A warm wind brushed through Rootkit's short black-and-white pelt, and when he opened his eyes, he found himself sitting on top of a high rock that seemed to stand for fox-lengths on end. Huh…? When he looked down, he spotted a luscious expanse of green grass that supported the rock and stretched all the way to the pale blue sky. For a moment, Rootkit was puzzled. How did he get here? This certainly wasn't ThunderClan territory. But it was a dazzling place with a scenic view, and a serene sense of calm flooded his body. What was the point of worrying?

When Rootkit looked down again, to try to figure out exactly where he was, there were dozens of cats that were not there originally. He didn't recognize any of them – although most of them held the scent of ThunderClan, he could see stars outlined in their pelts and their eyes. Their gazes were focused solely on Rootkit, and hope shone within their depths. Rootkit paused. He should feel disturbed, with the way they were staring at him. But all he felt was contentment.

"Rootkit." A voice echoed from behind him, a voice Rootkit had never heard before in his life. Rootkit turned on his heel to see a big flame-colored tom, sitting on the same rock Rootkit was. His green eyes were the color of leaves themselves, and because of the stars in his pelt, Rootkit had a pretty good guess of who this cat was.

"Are you…" Rootkit's eyes rounded with wonder. "Are you Firestar?"

"Indeed," Firestar purred. "You're smart. That's good."

"Wow," Rootkit gasped. "I've had dreams before, but I've never met a StarClan cat. Wait…" He paused, concern pricking his heart. Why was he meeting a StarClan cat? "Am I dead?"

"No." Firestar shook his head. "Don't worry, Rootkit. You're alive and well. Yes, I am Firestar. I was the leader of ThunderClan for generations before you, and I still watch my Clanmates every day. But there's something about you, Rootkit, that StarClan has ordered me to tell you." He paused. "You may not know this, but you are the kin. You descend from my grandson, Lionblaze."

I'm the kin of Firestar? Rootkit stared at the flame-colored tom with his jaw dropping. Yarrowstem never told me that! That's so cool! He was the kin of one of the greatest warriors that had ever walked the Clans! But his previous words struck a chord deep in Rootkit's heart, dimming the excitement about being Firestar's kin.

"Something about me?" Rootkit echoed. "Did I do something wrong?"

"The farthest from." Firestar braced his broad, orange-colored shoulders. "Rootkit, you are destined for more than you could ever know. Much will happen in the Clans in the following seasons, in the world at war, but there is no cat that will go through something quite like you will."

"I don't understand," Rootkit said, completely baffled. "I'm just a kit, and the only thing I'm going to be is a warrior. How do I have some sort of big destiny? Am I going to fight in the wars?"

"I can only tell you that you will suffer," Firestar meowed, sympathy in his green eyes, "but you will also grow strong because of the pain. You have a great destiny waiting for you, although it will be hard to follow, you must never waver from it. Keep your paws on the right path, and you will bring not just ThunderClan, but all of the Clans, to peace." The ginger tabby tom touched his nose to Rootkit's. "Rest well, Rootkit, for when you wake up, you will begin your journey to be a warrior unlike the Clans have ever seen before."

"Wait… Firestar…" Rootkit wanted to protest, but sleepiness was making his eyes heavy, and before he could beg the flame-colored tom to say anything else, to tell him more about this "glorious path," Rootkit found himself succumbing to sleep. The rock he was standing on and the valley around him disappeared to be replaced by darkness.

Rootkit woke with a start. He blinked his eyes open and recognized the bramble walls of the nursery. He felt his brother's warm body right next to him, and when he stretched his head over his shoulder, he spotted Yarrowstem curled up in a ball, her breath coming in soft snores. Rootkit gently pushed Pearkit off him, hoping that his brother didn't rise. He did not. Rootkit padded over to Yarrowstem and nudged her.

"Mom?" Rootkit whispered.

Yarrowstem opened a single eye. "What is it, dear one?"

"I had a dream," Rootkit whispered. "A dream I don't think any cat has ever had before."

"What was it about?" Yarrowstem's voice was muffled with sleep.

"I met Firestar." At that sentence, Yarrowstem immediately scrambled to her paws and stared at Rootkit.

"Say nothing else," Yarrowstem ordered. "We must speak to Ashenhawk."

"Okay." Rootkit followed his mother as she exited the bramble thicket and headed into the cave that Ashenhawk slept in. Does she know she's kin to Firestar? If she did, wouldn't she tell me? But Firestar lived so long ago, I bet she wouldn't even know. Rootkit looked up to see the predawn sky, and wondered how Ashenhawk would react to them waking her so early. Yarrowstem squeezed her way into the cave, with Rootkit still at her heels.

"Ashenhawk?" Yarrowstem called out softly.

"Mm." The reply was a grunt, and Rootkit let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the den as he spotted Ashenhawk's silver tabby figure. The lithe she-cat got to her paws, confusion in her sleep-glazed eyes as she stared at Yarrowstem and Rootkit. "What is it? Are you two all right?"

"Tell her, Rootkit," Yarrowstem told Rootkit. Rootkit nodded and padded forward to meet Ashenhawk.

"What is it?" Ashenhawk repeated.

"I had a dream," Rootkit meowed softly, "where I met Firestar."

"Firestar?" Ashenhawk's eyes widened. "Keep talking."

Rootkit felt the fur on his spine prick at the intensity in Ashenhawk's gaze. "Firestar told me that I had a destiny unlike any other cat in the Clan. He said I'd suffer, but it'd make me stronger, and he said that I'd bring ThunderClan to peace."

Ashenhawk shut her eyes for a few moments, and then opened them to gaze directly at Rootkit. "Firestar is an honorable cat who did miracles for his Clan, in life and in death," she meowed. "There must be some reason that he was chosen to speak to you. This dream is important, and you were right to tell me of this."

"What do you think it means?" Yarrowstem asked, her lips pressed together.

"I think it means that Rootkit is destined for greatness," Ashenhawk meowed.

"Greatness?" Yarrowstem echoed. "Like, leader?"

"I don't know," Ashenhawk replied honestly. "There are many other ways to be great other than being a leader. I can only say that Firestar must be right when he says that Rootkit is destined to be an important cat in the Clan."

Rootkit's head bobbed back and forth as he listened to Yarrowstem and Ashenhawk contemplate on what the dream meant. None of them were asking him what he thought it meant, but honestly, Rootkit had no clue. He looked down at his paws. Even though Ashenhawk was right that it was an honor that Firestar spoke to him, if it put him in a destiny that would require so much suffering that he had to be warned about it, was it worth it? Rootkit was lost in his thoughts when Ashenhawk finally addressed him.

"Rootkit, go back to the nursery for the time being. Live your life as you normally would. StarClan speaks to us in weird ways – they never tell us exactly what they mean. What Firestar said to you will happen eventually. I don't think there's any need for you to worry. Firestar just wanted to let you know, to prepare for the future. Let me know if you have any more dreams, though."

"Okay." It didn't sound like a considerable solution, but Rootkit didn't know the other option. Yarrowstem didn't seem satisfied with the outcome either, but she too did not seem to have another answer. Yarrowstem nudged Rootkit, and the two cats left Ashenhawk's den. Rootkit looked over his shoulder to gaze at Ashenhawk, who watched the two cats leave with a hopeful look in her eyes.

Rootkit was quiet, and so was Yarrowstem when they entered the nursery. Rootkit settled down next to Pearkit, who was still sound asleep. Rootkit wondered if he should tell Pearkit about his dream. They didn't keep secrets from each other – Pearkit had told him what he found out about Coalshadow's past, and Rootkit often confided in him when he found himself worried. But something in Rootkit's gut told him that only Ashenhawk and Yarrowstem should know about the dream. For now, at least. He'd consider telling Pearkit some other time, but for now, the dream was between him, his mother, and the ThunderClan medicine cat.

What does this mean, though? Rootkit asked himself. I don't think I want to be Clan leader. It's too much work… too much stress. I couldn't handle it. also don't want to be a medicine cat. I want to be a warrior. What can I do as a warrior that'll render me great, like Firestar said? He sighed and rested his chin on his paws. Maybe I just ate too much fresh-kill, and the entire thing wasn't real.

Greenleaf turned into leaf-fall, and Finchpaw and Brookpaw became warriors, Finchwing and Brookfeather. Streamstone gave birth to Dovekit and Bearkit, and Maplefall gave birth to two kits, Hailkit and Ravenkit. Nettlesnow, Flintstar's mate, had also moved into the nursery, expecting his kits. Rootkit barely had room to move, between the queens and the kits. Lightningkit and Flamekit had become apprenticed with the names of Lightningpaw and Flamepaw, to their mentors Coalshadow and Tinyfire.

Rootkit was getting bored. He wanted to go out and explore the forest, to see what beauties they had to offer him, but all he did was sit in the nursery and listen to how Pearkit wanted to be a good warrior. Although he respected his brother's ambitions, Rootkit was tired of listening to the same thing every day. There was a burning question that both brothers shared, though. When will we be apprenticed?

The question finally came out of Pearkit when the two kits were playing with their father. "Dad, we're already six moons!" the gray tabby kit exclaimed, pouncing on his father's tail. He nearly reached Coalshadow's arms by now. "When are we going to be apprenticed?"

Rootkit waited for Coalshadow to answer. His father's voice rumbled lowly in his chest as he meowed, "It's up to Flintstar to decide, not me."

"Can you at least mention it to him?" Rootkit asked hopefully.

"I can." Coalshadow got to his paws, his whiskers twitching with amusement. "I see how eager you two are out to get into the forest, and I do agree – you are six moons already. You should be apprenticed by now. I'll go discuss it with Flintstar."

Rootkit silently wondered if Coalshadow's intentions were just to stop them from talking about how much they wanted to be warriors. But he shook those thoughts away as soon as they came. Coalshadow wanted his sons to be good warriors as much as they did. He watched with his paws tucked under his chest as Coalshadow scaled the Highledge and mewed into the shadows of Flintstar's den. He disappeared into the cave.

Pearkit bounced up and down in excitement as his yellow eyes focused on Coalshadow's trailing tail. Rootkit couldn't help the crackles of exhilaration kindling in the depths of his heart. For the first time in moons, he thought back to the ominous dream he had in the nursery, where the great leader of ThunderClan, Firestar, had appeared to him.

Is this the start of my great destiny? Rootkit wondered. Being apprenticed? His claws slid out of their sheathes as he contemplated the path in the future for him. All of it started with his first paw to being a warrior – becoming an apprentice. Who will be my mentor? What will I learn? Will I be a great warrior like Coalshadow? The questions rushed through him like a whirlwind until the one that had been haunting him ever since he received the dream swamped over all the rest. Will I be good enough for the destiny Ashenhawk and Firestar said I'll have?

The sweet scent of his mother trickled into Rootkit's nostrils as he heard her light pawsteps behind him. Both he and Pearkit turned to face the golden dappled face of their mother. Yarrowstem's brilliant green eyes focused on the Highledge and a deep purr emitted from her body as she asked, "What is your father up to now?"

Pearkit ran circles around Yarrowstem. "He's going to ask Flintstar if we can be made apprentices!" the gray tabby kit yelped. Rootkit was surprised at how big his brother had grown – he reached his mother's chest, and his body was a lot more heavyset than it had been a few moons ago. Rootkit wondered if he had grown as much as Pearkit did, and when he stepped closer to his brother, a wave of embarrassment flushed over him as he realized he wasn't nearly as tall as Pearkit. That won't stop me from being apprenticed though, will it?

Yarrowstem's ears twitched with faint surprise and she cast a surprised look at Rootkit. "Is that true?" she asked him. Worry glinted in her eyes, and Rootkit was puzzled. What did Yarrowstem have to be worried about? He had a great destiny ahead of him, didn't he? He'd think that she'd want him to be apprenticed sooner rather than later.

Rootkit nodded. "Yes," he said, arching his claws into the grass beneath him as he awaited his father's arrival. The anticipation was nearly enough to cease his heart from beating as he focused his sharp yellow eyes on the Highledge. After what seemed like four seasons, Coalshadow's dark gray pelt appeared from the cave, sleek and muscular as it shone in the morning sunshine. Flintstar was behind him. The ThunderClan leader was tall with long limbs and stocky muscles. His silver tabby fur was sleek and well-groomed, and there was a sense of strength that glowed in his yellow eyes. Rootkit felt a flash of respect for such a strong looking tom, even though he didn't know exactly how well he led his Clan.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather underneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting!" Flintstar yowled, his voice penetrating the walls of the stone hollow. Coalshadow slid down the Highledge and took his spot underneath the rocks. Pearkit looked as if he was about to run over to Coalshadow, but Yarrowstem pressed his tail to the ground to stop him from taking off.

The ThunderClan cats began to gather. Sootfall, the Clan deputy, glanced at Flintstar with surprise flitting in his yellow gaze, but shrugged his broad shoulders and took his spot underneath the Highledge. Ashenhawk emerged from her den, scraps of leaves hanging to her silver tabby pelt as she gazed up at Flintstar. Rootkit recalled that Ashenhawk was Flintstar's sister. How odd that must be, he thought, being Clan leader and having your sister as a medicine cat. From the warriors' den, cats began to emerge. Brookfeather and Finchwing, the newest Clan warriors, exchanged puzzled glances as they joined Stormpaw and Sagepaw, the eldest apprentices. Longbranch and Tinyfire padded over to Coalshadow and sat down next to him. Heatherice licked her long dusky fur before touching noses with her mate, Oakfire. Rootkit scuffed his paw on the ground and sat next to Yarrowstem, who encouraged Pearkit over.

Rootkit cast a glance at the nursery. Bearkit and Dovekit poked their heads out, their eyes keen with interest at the Clan meeting, but their mother, Streamstone, ushered them inside. Ravenkit and Hailkit were nowhere to be seen, and Rootkit guessed because they were too young to witness a Clan meeting – they still would be suckling at their mother's belly. Nettlesnow, even though heavily pregnant with Flintstar's kits, had left the den to watch the meeting, her gaze focused on her mate.

Flintstar acknowledged her with a wave of his striped tail. "Clanmates!" he yowled, his amber gaze focusing on the cats gathered beneath him. "ThunderClan is strong. We have many kits in the nursery – and more to come," he added with an affectionate look at Nettlesnow. "Two of our kits have reached six moons, and it is time for their training to begin. Pearkit, Rootkit, come here."

It's time! Rootkit felt frozen to the ground as all of his Clanmates focused their eyes on him. Pearkit nudged him forward, and the two kits padded below the Highledge, looking up to gaze at Flintstar. Flintstar's tail flicked as he looked up at the sky, and then back at the kits. "Rootkit, Pearkit, you two have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. Pearkit." He gestured with his tail for the dark gray tabby kit to come forward. Pearkit's amber eyes blazed with excitement as Flintstar leaped from the Highledge onto the camp floor. "From now until you become a warrior, your name will be Pearpaw." He gestured with his tail towards Oakfire. "Oakfire, you were my apprentice and you learned well from me. Pass on everything you know to Pearpaw."

Oakfire! But he's so stern! Rootkit's heart pounded with anxiety as Oakfire padded over to Pearpaw and touched noses with his new apprentice. Even if Pearpaw shared Rootkit's concerns, he showed no indication of it, his eyes glowing as he returned his mentor's touch. He glanced over at Rootkit and mouthed, "It's your turn!"

Rootkit gave Pearpaw a nod and looked up at Flintstar. Flintstar's eyes were scanning the crowd. Is he thinking about who would be a good mentor for me? Then he glanced back down at Rootkit. "Rootkit, from now until you become a warrior, you will be known as Rootpaw. Vinestep, you will be Rootpaw's mentor. I trust you to pass on all you know to this new apprentice."

Rootpaw's heart glowed with warmth as Flintstar named his new mentor. Vinestep was a respected warrior in ThunderClan, known for his honor in battle and his kind heart towards his Clanmates. Vinestep padded over to Rootpaw, his green eyes glowing as he touched noses with his new apprentice. Rootpaw returned the gesture, his black-and-white tail waving in excitement.

"Rootpaw! Pearpaw!" cheered the ThunderClan cats. Rootpaw glanced over to see his father and mother among the loudest cats. Pearpaw basked in the praise, but Rootpaw found himself uncomfortable under all the gazes of his Clanmates. Then, glancing at Pearpaw and how confidence seemed to radiate from him with every breath he took, Rootpaw lifted his head and met the eyes of his Clanmates steadily.

I am Rootpaw, and I will fill the destiny that StarClan has laid out for me.

When the ceremony ended, Rootpaw padded over to Vinestep. Vinestep dipped his head briefly towards his new apprentice – Rootpaw couldn't read what emotion was in his eyes. Was he pleased to have Rootpaw as an apprentice? Rootpaw swallowed the lump in his throat. Pearpaw was already surrounding Oakfire, barraging his mentor with a flurry of questions. Rootpaw lowered his head respectfully to Vinestep.

"Right, first, we're going to explore the territory," Vinestep mewed. "It's crucial to know where the borders are, and maybe we'll do some hunting practice along the way."

"Will Pearpaw come with us?" Rootpaw asked, staring at his brother who was already performing a battle move. His heart flipped in his chest as Pearpaw flicked his legs out, practiced and well-rehearsed, as if he was a warrior already. I don't want Vinestep to think that I'm not taking my training as seriously as Pearpaw, but I don't know if I'll be half the apprentice he is.

Vinestep followed his gaze. His whiskers twitched. "Not if you don't want him to. We'll go at your own pace, not Pearpaw's."

Rootpaw felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Thanks."

"I'd better tell Oakfire, though." Vinestep waved his tail at his apprentice, ordering him to stay where he was, and Rootpaw scuffed the ground as his mentor padded over to Oakfire and murmured something in the old warrior's ear. Oakfire nodded, and Vinestep padded towards Rootpaw. His mentor nodded. "Okay, let's go."

Vinestep stretched his ginger-splotched legs and took the lead, his pace brisk but not too fast so that Rootpaw couldn't keep up. The ThunderClan warrior led his apprentice out of the heart of ThunderClan territory. Now that Rootpaw was out of the camp for the first time, he could see the world around him – and his curiosity to explore it was too grand that he could not help but slow down and take it all in stride.

Venturing into the heart of ThunderClan territory was like stepping into a world he had only seen in his dreams. Towering oak trees stretched their branches overheard, forming a leafy canopy that filtered the sunlight into dappled patterns that flickered on the forest floor. The ground was carpeted with a carpet of fallen leaves and moss, yet also marked with the countless pawsteps of ThunderClan warriors that had come in this direction.

Moss-covered rocks lay scattered among the roots of the ancient trees. The scent of damp earth mingled with the taste of birch and oak, and the wind gushed through the trees and into Rootpaw's ears. Ferns unfurled their fronds in shaded nooks and wildflowers swayed in a gentle breeze. Hidden pockets of sunlight illuminated patches of wild berries.

Rootpaw felt his eyes sparkle as he took in the world around him. He was part of this, part of something much bigger than himself. This was the forest that had nurtured and protected his ancestors for generations on end. He shut his eyes and let the variety of scents dance on his tongue, the sounds of the birds singing and the mice pattering run through his ears and shifted his paws so they crunched the leaves or slipped against the moss. Breathe in, he thought. Breathe out.

"Rootpaw!" Vinestep's harsh voice knocked Rootpaw from his thinking and he opened his eyes to look at his mentor. Vinestep's ginger-and-white pelt was a stark difference from the colors of the world around him, but the irritation flaring in his green eyes was the same exact shade of the grass beneath his paws. "Why are you standing there with your eyes shut? We don't have all day."

Rootpaw shifted his paws. "But the forest is so beautiful," he protested. "We should walk more slowly so we can drink in every scent and see everything. The border isn't going anywhere."

"But the sun is," Vinestep quipped dryly, his tail lashing. "And warriors don't spend their day looking at the sights. Pretty flowers aren't going to feed your Clan or stop invaders, and you won't know how to do that if you don't know where the borders or the best places to hunt prey are!"

The ferocity in Vinestep's voice made Rootpaw flinch. Stung, the black-and-white tom stared at his paws. Vinestep's voice was considerably softer when he spoke again. "Come on, Rootpaw. We can't just stand here all day. We're in a time of war, and ThunderClan needs warriors, not wanderers."

Rootpaw looked up. Vinestep was moving now. The black-and-white tom cast one more look at the wildflowers that bloomed around him and quickened his pace, following Vinestep as his mentor led him through a twisting and winding path through the oaks. Even though Rootpaw tried his hardest to pay attention to his mentor's words, once in a while he would glimpse a blue jay perching on top of a tall tree or a bellflower blooming from the roots of an old tree, and he couldn't help but stare. Vinestep's hiss would always bring him back to reality, and after a few instances of that, they stood at the WindClan border. The scent of the moor cats billowed towards him, and the stream that marked the border lapped at the banks.

"This is WindClan," Vinestep told him. "Swiftstar is their leader, and Berrysplash is their deputy." His green eyes narrowed. "Swiftstar was born a rogue, and he's as merciless as one."

"How did the WindClan cats allow a rogue to be their leader?" Rootpaw wondered.

Vinestep's gaze drifted over the rolling moorland. Rootpaw wondered what it must be like to live there, without the shelter of the trees, the wind tugging at your whiskers, so much land to explore. "I was just a young warrior when WindClan recruited a cat named Swiftheart," he said slowly. "I don't know much of what happened. I'm not a WindClan cat. But there was no doubt that he was strong and fearless." He lowered his voice. "But fearlessness can sometimes equal mercilessness. The warrior code tells us to have mercy on our enemies. Swiftstar has never heard of that word in his life." His shoulders were rigid.

Rootpaw didn't know what to say. He gazed over at the moorland. What did Swiftstar look like? How did his deputy contrast with his ruthless mindset? Did Swiftstar have any kits? Did he follow the warrior code, even though he was born a rogue? Does the warrior code matter if you were born a rogue? he wondered. "Has Flintstar fought Swiftstar before?"

"He has," Vinestep replied grimly. "And he will again."

"Until?" Rootpaw asked.

"Until one of them loses their last life to their enemy." The callousness in Vinestep's voice made the black-and-white apprentice freeze. Rootpaw looked over at the moorland. It was beautiful, with the various wildflowers spanning the hills and the heather sprigs sprouting. Every so often he would see a rabbit pelt, as if chasing the wind. How could cats fight over prey? It didn't even belong to them. It belonged to the earth. Longing tugged at his paws, and he padded over to the stream, wiggling his haunches as he contemplated what might be on the other side. I wonder what'll happen if I cross?

"Rootpaw!" Vinestep's voice was stern, and Rootpaw felt teeth pricking his tail as Vinestep pulled him back. "Were you not listening to me? Do those ears work? You can't cross WindClan territory. Swiftstar will have a field day with a mouse like you!"

Rootpaw flattened his ears and stepped away from the rushing stream, even though the scents from the moor seemed to be beckoning towards him. So much land, and he wasn't allowed to explore it? Another day, he thought to himself. He tried not to feel stung by Vinestep's comment. Instead he turned to his mentor and nodded. Vinestep's tail twitched in irritation. "We'll go see the ShadowClan border, now."

Vinestep shot off again. Rootpaw scrambled to his paws and followed his mentor, envying the older warrior's long legs and broad shoulders that helped him glide effortlessly through the rough terrain, while Rootpaw struggled to keep up – both with stopping to look at the scenery around him, and struggling to scale the rises and jumps that Vinestep could. They swerved through rocks and paths until Rootpaw could hear the bubbling of a stream. The stream is the border with ShadowClan, too? he wondered.

"Lionstar is the leader of ShadowClan," Vinestep explained. "His deputy is Toadstep. They're as fierce as foxes. ShadowClan is not to be trusted." His claws flexed as if he was wishing to dig them into a ShadowClan cat's pelt.

"Are they like Swiftstar?" Rootpaw couldn't help but ask.

Vinestep stopped and frowned. "None of our cats have been found dead at their border, but the cold wind from the mountains blows through their hearts," he said, seeming to choose his words carefully. "They attack us just as often as Swiftstar does." He gazed across the stream, the wind buffeting his fur. "Every cat is our enemy, Rootpaw. The only cats we can trust are our own Clanmates."

Rootpaw listened to his mentor's words carefully, but he couldn't help his heart from sinking. He was an apprentice of ThunderClan now, and he wouldn't have it any other way. But why couldn't he stop and be in tune with the earth, rather than fussing about borders and worrying about attacks from other cats? Would this be his entire future, worrying about borders and battles?

Firestar said I have a great destiny ahead of me… but what if it's a destiny that I don't understand? I don't want my destiny to be dictated by pointless battles and continuous suffering. How can this possibly be the right thing to do?