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Post by graygoyle on Apr 27, 2019 2:47:40 GMT -5
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: ACCOLADE WHERE IS THE WORLD WITHIN?
SHADOWS crept from behind the cypress trees, reaching out for Sedgepaw as she ran. She could only hear air filling and escaping her lungs as she pushed through the cypress swamp. Humidity clung to the air, weighing it down onto her body, making her strides heavy. Mud crusted against her thick fur, flaking off as she pushed passed myrtle bushes and swathes of ferns.
Behind her, she knew Toadpaw was being hauled away. His body would be limp by now, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as spittle dripped down his chin. Mudpaw would be by his side, head low, eyes half-shut, mourning.
She ran faster.
The camp would be confused, then shocked, only to be devoured by grief. Sandthroat would demand for Heronpaw to do anything, everything to save his apprentice, knowing it would all be in vain.
Sedgepaw crashed through the underbrush, leaves clinging to her fur as thorns scratched at her legs.
Russetnose would burst from the elders den, overcome with dread, as he beheld the limp body of his only son. He would collapse on top of him, cursing the stars for taking his son away.
Night emerged, drenching the sky in indigo. Stars began to appear above in the moonless sky. The eternal blackness above consumed what remained of the tiny sliver of moonlight. Dark ruled the swamp, even the crickets were too frightened to sing their song. In the quiet, Sedgepaw’s head pounded with thoughts of Toadpaw and Mudpaw, shaking her.
Sedgepaw slowed as she recognized the narrow trail Blueflower showed her, the trail leading to the springs. The dust tickled her toes as a soft breeze rustled the myrtle bushes and buttonbush that lined the path. Her paws felt like they were about to fall off as she began her trek down the narrow path.
Guilt ate at her insides, and she felt hollow. Was Toadpaw dead because of her? Her gait slowed to a walk. She felt ready to give up. She wanted to turn back and vouch for Mudpaw. The freak accident cost him his chance at warriorhood… and it was her fault! She saw the viper, she should have done more… Squeezing her eyes shut, she pushed through the bracken with her head low. The scent of fresh spring water and the trill of frogs was what prompted her to open her eyes again.
When she did, she saw the three remaining apprentices sitting before her. Blackpaw, Yewpaw, and Ospreypaw were murmuring to one another, but when they saw Sedgepaw, they fell silent. Behind them, the effervescent springs rested, bubbling gently as the stars twinkled at the surface. Whitestar and Redleaf were sitting close to the lip of the spring, exchanging whispers.
Yewpaw’s eyes widened as she read Sedgepaw’s face. “What happened?”
Ospreypaw was instantly on her feet, rushing to her friend with concern in her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“It’s Toadpaw…” she croaked. “He… he…”
“He what?” Blackpaw demanded.
“A viper bit him,” Sedgepaw murmured.
“A viper?” Whitestar echoed, approaching her from the shore. “Dreadful…” The leader shook her head. “That’s the last thing we need… Another body to bury.”
Sedgepaw narrowed her eyes, catching her leader’s use of “another.” As far as anyone else knew, the last MarshClan cat to die was Rosebreath, Hollyfoot’s mother. Her mind flickered to Vinestripe, but she pushed the thought away. She was too tired to think about more death.
“I assume Mudpaw accompanied him back to camp?” Redleaf guessed.
“Yes, he went with Gingerstep. The viper was in the marsh.” The melancholy in Sedgepaw’s voice was evident, but neither the medicine cat nor the leader seemed to care. Instead, they exchanged a glance and nodded.
“A water viper’s bite is potent. There’s no way he survived the strike.” Redleaf’s voice was methodical, void of feeling. “I fear for Russetnose,” he relented, finally allowing some solemnity in his words. “That was his only son, and his only kin since he lost Dustpool.”
“We can mull over Russetnose after this test,” Whitestar decided. The impatient flicker of her tail betrayed her frustration. “Due to the unfortunate passing of Toadpaw, StarClan rest his soul, both he and Mudpaw failed to complete the last challenge. We will be continuing on without them, and the remaining apprentices will not be given a failure for the speed challenge.”
Sedgepaw opened her mouth to protest her leader’s callous dismissal of Toadpaw, but Whitestar was already leading them along the shore of the Starlit Springs. She followed after the group with her head low, tail dragging. Exhaustion threatened to overcome her. Ospreypaw’s scent comforted her as they walked alongside one another, and it was the only thing that kept her wits about her.
The cats continued along the shore in silence, becoming nothing but black silhouettes against the ethereal blue springs. As they made their trek to the Lunar Cavern, the stars seemed to descend on them, blinking at their paws.
“Fireflies,” Sedgepaw whispered, eyes widening.
The little lights danced around the cats, flickering like minuscule embers in the night. To Sedgepaw’s surprise, Whitestar seemed annoyed by their presence, and she flicked them away from her with her long tail. Redleaf seemed perturbed as well, for he picked up the pace.
“These are pretty,” Ospreypaw observed. Sedgepaw could hear a smile in her voice.
“Yeah,” Sedgepaw agreed. She thought about telling her friend the legend Blueflower shared with her, but thought better of it. There was a reason the warrior shared the story in secrecy. She also did not trust speaking of such mysticism around Whitestar or Redleaf; who knew what they approved of?
As they pressed on, it became evident that the fireflies favored Yewpaw. They slowly began to hover around her in a cluster, looking like a flame that lapped at her frame. Her sister seemed conscious of their presence, for her ears twitched and swiveled as if the bugs spoke to her. Sedgepaw grew concerned. If fireflies could talk, what would they say? Then again, if they were truly the lost souls of the dead… Sedgepaw imagined they had a lot in their mind.
“How are you feeling?” Ospreypaw murmured to Sedgepaw, clearly not noticing how the fireflies continued to collect around Yewpaw.
“I’m okay… Just tired.” Sedgepaw was lying, but she refused to unveil her true feelings, fearing they would pour out of her relentlessly, too strong for her to stop.
“Is that all?” Ospreypaw pressed, unconvinced.
Sedgepaw was unable to say more, for she witnessed her sister deliberately divert from the path, trotting briskly toward the springs. The fireflies crowded her, illuminating her tawny fur in the night, twinkling near her face, which was awestruck. Her ears continued to tremble, and her face was unphased as she set foot in the spring, causing the still water to ripple.
“Yewpaw?” Blackpaw called out, stepping toward her. Confusion littered his features, and he appeared scattered the moment Yewpaw strayed from his side.
Sedgepaw also took a step toward her sister, concerned. Yewpaw froze with one paw in the springs, her lips parted as if she was about to speak. Ospreypaw, Whitestar, and Redleaf remained standing still, mystified.
Redleaf sighed sadly. “It’s the fireflies,” he assessed grimly. “They must be speaking to her.”
“Wh-What are they saying?” Blackpaw demanded. “Are they asking her to go for a swim?” Though he tried to joke and lighten the mood, the fear in his voice was evident.
“Let us pray they aren’t,” Redleaf rasped. “Fireflies are tricky creatures. They’ve been known to spirit away cats, whisk them far off into a land in-between the living and the dead.”
Sedgepaw’s ears flicked. That sounded nothing like what Blueflower told her. Was this what the warrior meant when she said Sedgepaw needed to know the “truth” before her test? She remained skeptical of her medicine cat, feeling mistrust for the odd glint in his eyes.
“If Yewpaw submerges herself in the springs, the fireflies can steal her soul.”
Redleaf’s growl only frightened Blackpaw more, for he turned to rush to Yewpaw.
“Stop!” Redleaf hissed after him. “If you touch her, you could fall victim to their magic as well!”
“I don’t care!” Blackpaw snapped. “I… I can’t lose her.”
“Blackpaw you received an order from your medicine cat.” Whitestar’s calm, cold voice froze Blackpaw, and he remained still under her icy glare. “Do not disobey him.”
“But—But I’m her partner! I must help her!” Blackpaw begged.
Sedgepaw was taken back by Blackpaw’s emotion. Suddenly, the cocky, brazen apprentice she knew him to be transformed into a passionate, desperate cat she never knew existed. Perhaps she was too hard on him? Maybe she had him pegged wrong. The care and devotion in his eyes for Yewpaw was never more evident before tonight.
“Enough of this,” Whitestar hissed. “This is a challenge of Yewpaw’s spirit. Though it is occurring outside the Cavern, it does not make it any less of her own. Allow her to overcome this obstacle and stand down.” Her final two words were etched with a chilling warning.
Ears folded, Blackpaw bowed his head to Whitestar, slowly returning to her.
Meanwhile, Yewpaw remained standing in the springs as the fireflies began to circle her. Sedgepaw pricked her ears, wanting to hear for their whispers, but she heard nothing but the screeching frogs and rustles of nocturnal animals in the underbrush. Yewpaw set all four of her paws into the springs, eyes wide as a full moon.
Sedgepaw uttered a silent prayer for Yewpaw, begging for her to snap out of this trance. After the forest seemed to stand still, a rush of wind buffeted the cats, and Yewpaw’s fur stood on end. All the fireflies simultaneously extinguished their lights as if blown out by the breeze. The tawny apprentice shook her head, panting softly, and she snapped her head around to stare at the cats surrounding her.
“I—uhm—I don’t know what came over me,” she admitted sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”
Whitestar nodded, continuing along the path in silence. Redleaf, however, lingered, eyeing her curiously. Sedgepaw felt her fur prickle protectively as the medicine cat’s eyes glowed for Yewpaw. She made sure to fall into step close behind her sister, brushing passed Redleaf while casting him a baleful glare. The medicine cat did not seem to take notice of Sedgepaw’s mistrust, for he still stared after Yewpaw with piqued interest.
“That was weird,” Blackpaw was murmuring to Yewpaw. Sedgepaw strained her ears to listen to their conversation. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing… I… it’s hard to explain.” Yewpaw shrugged him off, her voice quivering. “If I could tell you, I would.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Blackpaw grumbled, frustrated.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sedgepaw growled at him. “She gave you her answer. Leave her be.”
“Who asked you?” Blackpaw hissed, turning his head back to her with a curled lip. “At least I went after her, you were content to watch her get taken away.”
“What do you know?” Sedgepaw growled. “I care for her just as much as you do.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Blackpaw sniffed. “I was the only one willing to go after her.”
“Just shut up before I claw your face off!” Sedgepaw snapped, growing tired of the relentless rebuttal.
Blackpaw scoffed. “Typical Sedgepaw, resorting to violence to get her point across.”
“Would you both stop bickering?” Ospreypaw growled. “The Cavern is ahead.”
Sedgepaw was distracted from her rage by a massive wall of stone. The brown rockface was scarred by crags that harbored spongy clumps of moss. The spring fed into its side, splashing gently against the wall to darken its shade. The mouth of the cave was lopsided like a yawning snake, and a curtain of moss shielded it from the elements.
Whitestar hesitated at the entrance, waiting for the rest of the group to catch up. Sedgepaw was in awe of the vast wall of rock. She could not see over it or around it. On one side was the spring, and on the other the cypress forest, but the cave was so vast it threatened to dominate both landscapes with its rocky presence.
“Behold,” Whitestar meowed. She turned to the apprentices, expression blank. “This is the last challenge. It will take your skills in spirit to overcome it and become a warrior at last.”
“It is your job to work together with your partner, navigate the tunnels, and find the Lunar Cavern,” Redleaf spoke up from the back of the group. “Do not tread lightly. This is a labyrinth carved by time and endless rivulets of water, and it keeps the sanctity of our ancestors safe.”
“So long as you stick together, you will be fine,” Whitestar assured them. “Walking these tunnels alone is dangerous. Many cats pining for StarClan have gotten lost in here, never to emerge again.”
“Whitestar will be going in first,” Redleaf mewed. “She will be waiting for you in the Cavern. I will remain within the entrance.”
“You have all night to find the Cavern. If you do not find it before sunrise, if you exit the tunnels without finding the Cavern, or if you get lost and do not exit with your leader at the end, you will fail this challenge,” Whitestar explained studiously. “We will do our best to find you find you if you get lost, but there is no guarantee.”
“Though we cannot force you to work with your partner once you’re in the tunnels, it will behoove you to not go through this alone,” Redleaf stressed.
All apprentices nodded in understanding. Sedgepaw wouldn’t dream of leaving Ospreypaw in the tunnels alone.
As Whitestar entered the curtain of moss, she pressed close to her partner. They were so close now. The key to their earning of their warrior names stood before them, and it was as daunting an obstacle as it was vast. Sedgepaw had not the slightest clue what awaited her in the darkness of the tunnels.
It felt like moons passed by while Sedgepaw and the other apprentices waited for the go ahead from Redleaf. She gazed at the stars that shone in the sky, wondering. Would StarClan finally answer all her questions?
“Apprentices, you may proceed,” Redleaf rasped. “May StarClan light your path.”
The pairs of apprentices approached the mouth of the cave slowly, collectively knowing and not knowing what was in store. The greatest mystery was about to be unveiled to them should they succeed: the power of StarClan. The Lunar Cavern, the place of worship for all of MarshClan, was so full of unbridled spiritual energy, that only the leader and medicine cat could enter unescorted.
And yet, the final challenge, spirit, had the apprentices go against everything they were told as kits. The greatest secret all apprentices came to realize: in order to become a warrior, they had to enter these hallowed tunnels… and find the Lunar Cavern without the guidance of their leader or medicine cat. As Sedgepaw set foot into the cave, her paw was greeted by the cool, smooth touch of stone.
Though the tunnels were engulfed in a black miasma, once her eyes adjusted she was able to perceive the silhouettes of massive precipices that flanked either side of her. Rivers of scarlet floatsone, frozen in time, seemed to be pouring from the roof, to spill at her paws in ripples of brown, red, and orange.
“This is unbelievable,” she whispered.
“I don’t like it…” Ospreypaw muttered. “It just looks cold.”
Sedgepaw turned to her friend, smiling. “Let’s get through this. Once we do, we will finally be warriors!” She tried to remain positive, but Toadpaw’s fate remained to cloud her mind and dampen her spirit.
“Okay.” Ospreypaw mewed. She glanced about the cave. “Where should we start?”
Though the narrow entryway remained singular, Sedgepaw was able to see it split into three directions up ahead. The fork in the road could mean their victory or their ultimate failure. It all depended on the path they chose.
“If it’s a test of spirit… maybe we need to feel which way is best?” Sedgepaw suggested.
“They all feel equally hopeless to me,” Ospreypaw deadpanned.
Chuckling, Sedgepaw approached the passageways. Her laugh echoed down their depths, prompting Sedgepaw to go silent. The sound of water dripping from the roof reverberated as she glanced between the passageways. They were all identical in width, and seemingly length, for the far stretches of each pathway were swallowed by shadows.
“We could always follow Yewpaw and Blackpaw,” Sedgepaw mewed. She could easily pick up on her sister’s scent, which led her into the middle passageway.
“But what if they’re wrong?” Ospreypaw countered.
Ospreypaw was right. Though she trusted her sister, she knew the purpose of the challenge was to rely on her partner not her kin. Shutting her eyes, Sedgepaw strained her ears, hoping to find something, anything, that would lend her a hint. She thought she heard whispers, carried in a gust of wind the bellowed from the far left passage.
“Did you hear that?” Sedgepaw whispered breathlessly.
Ospreypaw’s fur was standing on end as she nodded. “Yes… whispers.”
“It could be Them.”
Sedgepaw raced for the far left pathway, panting excitedly as the whispers grew more numerous. Ospreypaw was on her heels, her warm breath hot on her toes. The path grew more narrow, and Sedgepaw’s fur brushed against the cold stone walls on either side. The whispers coaxed her onward, and though she could not decipher words, she knew what was being spoken was meant for her and Ospreypaw.
The pathway led to an open dome that was almost as tall as a tree. She gazed above, witnessing an indigo canvas splattered with silver stars, shining for her. They lit the cave with their dim glow, chasing the shadows from the center.
“StarClan!” She mewed.
Ospreypaw came beside her, glancing around. “I don’t think this is it,” she mewed to Sedgepaw.
Though the sight was breathtaking, she knew her friend was right. Whitestar was nowhere to be found. She sat on the cool rock, sighing. Their challenge was far from over.
The whispers continued.
Sedgepaw’s eyes narrowed as she honed in on the source of the whispers. A small hole in the wall resided at the far side of the den, and Sedgepaw gasped. “Follow me!”
Racing across the cave, she came upon the small tunnel that burrowed into the wall. It was so small that they needed to crawl if they were to travel through it.
Ospreypaw gave a snort of disbelief. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she murmured.
“Can’t you hear Them?” Sedgepaw reasoned. “Remember, this is a test of our spirit. It’s not supposed to be easy!”
“I know!” She shrugged. “I just don’t like the idea of tight spaces.”
“Come on, we will be fine,” Sedgepaw encouraged.
As she turned to the hole, she realized her own misgivings. Such a small tunnel could easily narrow into a trap that would prevent them from escaping. They could remained entombed in it forever… Sedgepaw shook her head. Enough doubt! She needed to get through this to become a warrior. There was no turning back now.
Plunging into the tunnel, she scrabbled away, crawling into its depths. Before long, her whiskers were brushing against the walls, which hugged her broad frame like a cold cocoon. She wriggled on, but as the tunnel became tighter, she had less room to maneuver, and soon had to resort to dragging herself one outstretched paw at a time. She thought she heard heavy breathing, and a heartbeat. They became louder and louder, and she felt like the walls were trembling.
“Sedgepaw, I’m scared!” Ospreypaw cried out behind her. The sound of her voice was muffled by the confines of the tunnel.
Sedgepaw felt like she was gulping for air and knew fear radiated from her pelt. “We’re close!” she called back, lying, knowing her friend may not hear her. “Don’t give up!”
Ahead, she only saw darkness. The whispers morphed into distorted murmurs, laughs, and cries. The voices of the dead seemed to surround her, crushing her body with the weight of their past. So many stories flooded her ears, lost in translation as a filter time and dimensions divided them. She could smell the scents of cats unknown to her, but familiar all the same.
Just as Sedgepaw thought she would be suffocated by the madness of her transit, she pushed herself out into a massive cavern. Freed, she took a deep breath and allowed her heartbeat to return to normal. The cavern was split by spring water, which hugged a rocky shore. Boulders built a bridge to the center of the crystalline pool, with the last piece resting broad and flat in the middle.
Sedgepaw turned to the tiny tunnel entrance, her heart stopping when she realized Ospreypaw failed to leave the tunnel with her. She hurried to it, sniffing at the entrance, only to nearly jump out of her fur when Ospreypaw burst from it with a loud gasp for air.
“That was awful!” she wailed.
Sedgepaw laughed, almost hysterically. It was awful. This whole day had been awful. But it was finally coming to an end. “We made it,” she murmured to her.
Ospreypaw’s eyes widened as she took in the sight. “This is the Lunar Cavern?” She was breathless. The starlight shone on her black and white pelt with a pale sheen.
Sedgepaw caught herself admiring the contours of Ospreypaw’s strong legs. The lighting had a talent for highlighting her features. She shook her head, knowing better than to stare for too long. She padded up beside her partner, admiring the encapsulated view of the night sky.
“This has to be it,” Sedgepaw murmured. Her golden eyes fell on the flat stone that sat in the middle of the Cavern. As she narrowed her eyes, she was stunned to see a fine layer of sand, pale as sugar, on its surface. What was more disconcerting, no pawprints were to be seen. Weren’t Redleaf and Whitestar supposedly here just yesterday?
Curious, Sedgepaw drew closer to the shore and bridge of rocks. The scents of cats were so stale along the pebbly bank, that Sedgepaw could only identify them as MarshClan and nothing more. Peculiar…
“Where’s Whitestar?” Ospreypaw wondered, wandering about the Cavern, wide-eyed.
Sedgepaw glanced around again. It would be easy to see her stark white pelt against the earthen canvas, but she only saw shadows. One shadow in particular was wider and deeper than them all, and it took a moment to realize that it was a large entryway. Perhaps the main entryway? From its depths, a pair of burning amber eyes shone, and Sedgepaw flinched back when the ghostly white figure of Whitestar detached from the darkness.
“I’m here,” Whitestar mewed coolly. “Well done.” Her eyes slid to gaze behind the apprentices. “I see you took the most difficult path to arrive here. An omen for challenges and great pressures ahead, but your ability to perservere foretells success.”
Sedgepaw smiled. Though she had an idea of what challenges lay ahead of her, she was pleased to know she had a chance to overcome them.
Paws patting against the earth sounded from the wide mouth Whitestar entered from. Blackpaw and Yewpaw burst into the Cavern, panting and smiling as they exchanged a triumphant glance with one another. Though Blackpaw’s jaw was still swollen from battle, he managed a grin wider than Mother Lake itself.
“And it seems Blackpaw and Yewpaw took the road most traveled, for those destined to rely on the tried and true way toward success and mold their desires to best combat the tribulations around them.” Whitestar nodded appreciatively. A Cheshire grin remained on her muzzle as she spoke. “The reality of the spirit challenge is this: all the pathes at the beginning of the tunnels would’ve led you here eventually. It was only the doubt in your mind or your lack of belief in StarClan that could’ve set you back from accomplishing this task.”
Sedgepaw’s eyes widened. It was… a trick? To think… she could’ve made it to the end without her struggle through the narrow tunnel.
“However, your faith in yourself and the Stars has proven true! Apprentices, follow me to the heart of the Lunar Cavern,” the leader commanded.
Whitestar flicked her tail for them to follow, and Sedgepaw sprung forward, giddy on her paws. This was it! As her first paw touched the stone leading to the center slab, she felt a shiver down her spine. They began to hop from rock to rock, and as Sedgepaw came closer, she felt more and more excitement rush through her veins.
Though Ospreypaw was quiet, she could see the excitement in her friend’s eyes as they lept from rock to rock, drawing closer to the heart of the Cavern. Behind her, she could hear the excited murmurs exchanged between Yewpaw and Blackpaw, and she shared their enthusiasm.
Once Whitestar set foot on the center slab, a silvery cloud of gust stirred around her like a plume of smoke. The stale scent of MarshClan churned with it, reminding Sedgepaw of a peculiar detail: why did the slab not smell of Whitestar or Redleaf? They were just here yesterday…
Stirred from her perplexion, when Sedgepaw set foot on the slab, her muscles hummed with an unspeakable energy. The strength of all her ancestors pulsed within her, and she thought she could hear their breaths and taste their scent. Surrounding her was the crystalline spring water that bled into the cave from the Starlit Springs. At the bottom, of unveiled several rocky clusters, porous from erosion, where algae of all colors of the rainbow gathered. Without the light of the moon, the reflection of the stars was more apparent, glistening at the surface.
Surrounded by the beauty and mystery of it all, Sedgepaw was speechless as she sat before Whitestar in a daze. As the other apprentices took their place before their leader, she gazed at the sky.
“StarClan, I bring these apprentices to you today as tribute, for they have shown the utmost devotion to You and MarshClan in their moons of training.” As she spoke, Whitestar’s eyes were on the stars, and she seemed entranced by their pale shine. “In turn, I humbly ask, as leader of MarshClan, that you bestow your guardianship and guidance in their impending moons as warriors and recognize their true names as we gather before Your grace.”
True names… Sedgepaw felt her heart soar. She would receive her warrior name tonight. Before her heart could soar over the moon, it fell, hard and fast, into the pit of her stomach when she realized the two apprentices that were missing. Toadpaw. Mudpaw. They both should have been here tonight. Sedgepaw’s eyes fell to her paws solemnly. How could she celebrate knowing what had been undone?
“With permission of our ancestors, I shall place my paw into the pool and receive their power and divinity,” Whitestar announced, continuing to recite the ancient warrior-naming tradition.
She turned, facing the still spring water. Sedgepaw watched, eyes as wide as a full moon. With an outstretched paw, Whitestar dabbed her toes in the water. Upon touching its surface, the crystalline water surrounding them was instantly turned red; its beautiful blue surface became a memory, as sticky, thick fluid took its place. Sedgepaw froze. Her jaw opened, lips trembling, when she saw her leader lift her paw from the pool, her white fur stained and dripping with blood.
Whitestar approached her, and Sedgepaw was too terrified to speak. Her leader seemed ignorant to the blood on her paws. As she pressed her paw to Sedgepaw’s chest, the liquid felt warm, and it smelled of fresh blood. Sedgepaw almost gagged.
“StarClan, the apprentice before me has continuously displayed great ferocity in battle. Her willingness to strike down those that harm our Clan, and her willingness to laying her own life down in order to protect others has inspired me to bestow this name on her: Sedgestrike.”
Sedgestrike was too consumed by the smell of blood to murmur a thanks. She only bowed her head. Her tongue felt like it turned to ash, drying her mouth and throat out beyond repair.
As Whitestar moved on the Ospreypaw, the blood surrounding them remained. She stole a glance at her friend, seeing that she too, like Whitestar, was unperturbed by the surrounding gore. Even as their leader pressed her bloody paw to her chest, she did not seem to notice.
“StarClan, the apprentice before me has exhibited swiftness in thought and gait since the start of her training. Her ability to think and move quickly has long been a boon for her and the Clanmates that rely on her. Due to her skill, I have decided to dub her: Ospreyflight.”
The Cavern was quiet as Whitestar moved on. For Sedgestrike, the scent of blood was overpowering. Blackpaw was just as ignorant. His chin was raised proudly, jaw still swollen, and his green eyes blazed with confidence. When Whitestar touched her paw to his chest, his back straightened.
“StarClan, the apprentice before me has long shown courage and the will to protect the weak and misfortunate. His loyalty to MarshClan unquestionable. In honor of his vigilance and valiant heart, I bestow shall bestow this name: Blackhawk.”
Lastly, Whitestar came before Yewpaw. Sedgestrike gazed over the heads of her Clanmates beside her to see if she also seemed unaware of Whitestar’s bloody accolade. To her surprise, and eerie relief, Yewpaw’s fur was standing on end. Her green eyes darted about the Cavern wildly, in fright, and when Whitestar lifted her paw to push it gently against her chest, she froze. Did Yewpaw see the madness too?
“StarClan, the apprentice before me is known for supporting and encouraging her Clanmates. She is always willing to lend words of advice or comfort, and her spirit has proven to withstand the greatest adversities. Therefore, I think it’s most appropriate to name her: Yewbranch.”
Stepping back from the newly-named warriors, Whitestar took a seat before them once more. As she left them, the water surrounding them slowly faded back to normal. Sedgestrike shivered as the last metallic whiff of blood bled into the air before being drowned out by the scent of wet stone and the night sky.
“StarClan, I present these new warriors to You. I entreat You to accept their names and hearts into Your arms, and embrace their destinies as warriors!” Whitestar’s voice echoed through the Cavern; it reverberated off the walls, causing loosely-clinging gravel to rattle onto the floor from the ceiling. Though there was no verbal response from their ancestors, the silence was heavy, and it felt like they were surrounded. The feeling did not fade as Whitestar spoke again, “Congratulations, you are all now warriors of MarshClan.”
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Post by graygoyle on Apr 27, 2019 2:56:46 GMT -5
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: A WARRIOR'S WELCOME DROWNING OUT OUR MISTAKES
ONCE Sedgestrike arrived back to MarshClan camp, the sun was on the rise. The shadows of night were all but a distant memory as dawn drained its darkness; replacing it was a canvas of pastels in the sky that shone in the reflections of the dewdrops that shivered on the reeds and grasses. Distant clouds, silvered by daybreak’s pale gold light, whispered of an impending storm. Rain would become more commonplace as the days of riverswell came into full bloom. MarshClan existed in a pendulum, which swung to and fro between wet and dry seasons, riverswell and rivernarrow respectively. The scent of rain in the air coupled with the sticky humidity that clung to Sedgestrike’s pelt alerted her of several storms to come.
Riverswell brought with it as much life as it did destruction. Sedestrike gazed across the marsh, looking north towards Mother Lake and MarshClan camp. Soon, Mother Lake would be replenished to her full glory, much like her sister, the moon. Fishing would become popular again for hunting parties. However, should Mother Lake become too swollen with rain water, her girth could swallow MarshClan camp, and force them to migrate to the palmetto fields and sparse pine forest that flanked the cypress swamp.
It was a period of transformation for more than just MarshClan’s newest warriors. All around them, the world was evolving and molding to the merciless speed of time. Sedgestrike felt caught in the midst of it, entangled in a perpetual metamorphosis that threatened to strangle her should she learn how to contort and twist her body to the fancy of the strings. Since the final moon of her apprenticeship, she was riddled with signs and omens that kept her up at night. In her heart, she knew the visions would not evaporate now that she was a warrior. In fact, she felt they would only become more fierce. If she truly had a destiny to fulfill, it would only become more demanding now that she came of age.
Pushing through the stalks of maidencane and sawgrass, Sedgestrike followed Whitestar as she led them back to camp. Her heart fluttered. She was returning to MarshClan a warrior. Behind her, she could feel excitement teeming from her fellow rookies. Blackhawk in particular, was galavanting through the brush like a buck showing off his new rack of antlers. Head high, chin raised, voice boisterious, Sedgestrike felt consumed--if not suffocated--by his energy. She only wished she could share it. She was haunted by her latest vision: Whitestar’s paw turning the Lunar Cavern’s water to blood. She christened Sedgestrike and the others with that same paw, and it felt like she doomed them rather than commended them.
As Sedgestrike set foot into camp, she was greeted by another grave reminder: Toadpaw.
Lying limp in the clearing, his bloated body was adorned with marigold, tiny milkweed blossoms, and white wax begonia petals. In his locked jaw was a bundle of sage, which was said to help the dead on their walk to StarClan. Collapsed over his body was the shaggy frame of Russetnose. He appeared to be asleep, for his body rose and fell slowly. Surrounding the fallen apprentice were the other MarshClan cats that would be responsible for his burial: Heronpaw, Sandthroat, and Mudpaw.
“Oh no,” Yewbranch whimpered. Sedgestrike could see her green eyes glistening as she pushed passed them. She went straight for Mudpaw, greeting him with consoling licks and mews. Sedgestrike watched as her brother stiffened and shoved her off with a grumble. Yewbranch flinched back and her tail drooped.
“Hey, what was that for?” Blackhawk barked. The long-haired warrior’s paws thundered as she ran to Yewbranch. “She was only trying to help you feel better,” he reminded Mudpaw.
Sedgestrike frowned when Mudpaw returned Blackhawk’s scorn with a hollow gaze and a shrug. When his listless eyes slid behind the black warrior’s and found hers, his gaze turned to a glare. Sedgestrike felt her heart sink as her brother gave a snort and looked away. He was still upset with her. Very upset with her.
“Such a grim welcome,” Whitestar observed. Her voice was too calculating to hold emotion. “We should proceed with the burial straightaway. The last thing we need is to dampen moral even more.”
Redleaf nodded. “They were likely waiting for your return. The leader must send off the dead to be buried, elsewise they may be doomed to wander in-between.”
“Toadpaw will need you as well,” Whitestar pointed out. “Heronpaw may have dressed the body, but he has not been recognized by StarClan. You must be there when he is laid to rest.”
Sedgestrike’s ears swiveled as she continued to eavesdrop on the leader and medicine cat as they divvied up their responsibilities. Their exchange felt methodical, cold, as if they were carrying out a chore rather than burying a Clanmate.
As they continued to linger on the fringe of camp, Sedgestrike felt Ospreyflight brush against her. “You know that it’s not your fault, right?” she murmured.
Sedgestrike avoided her stare. “It feels like it is.” She grimaced, growing angry at herself. “I saw the viper… I tried to stop Mudpaw, but he wouldn’t listen. I--I couldn’t save them both.”
“But you at least were able to save one of them,” Ospreyflight reasoned. “We may have had two bodies to bury if you didn’t.”
“It shouldn’t have been a trade-off!” Sedgestrike hissed, crushing her paw into the earth as she stamped it.
Whitestar was making her way to the Fallen Cypress as Sedgestrike was assaulted by guilt. Redleaf followed suit, sitting at the foot of the hollow cypress trunk, tail wrapped neatly around his paws. Neither stopped to acknowledge Toadpaw’s body nor offer condolences to his gathered loved ones. Sedgestrike felt a pang of rage. How could they be so heartless? She instinctively drew closer to her leader, knowing she was about to call the Clan to gather, careful not to come too close to Mudpaw.
“MarshClan!” Whitestar yowled. “I call you to gather before the Fallen Cypress, I have important announcements to make.”
Cats, warriors, apprentices, queens, and elders slowly poured from their respective dens. Only the dawn patrol and sentinels were out of camp, so MarshClan’s clearing was almost full. Almost all the warriors were present, save for Hollyfoot, Zinniablossom, Fogspots, Mothfur, Littlebrook, and, Sedgestrike’s heart sank, Blueflower. Sedgestrike could see young Foxpaw alongside Pebblepaw, trying to sit straighter so he could see over the warriors’ heads. Lilypaw likely accompanied Mothfur on patrol. Of the queens, elderly Shellshine and a very pregnant Juniperheart sat outside the nursery. Jasminefur likely wanted to shield her kits from Toadpaw’s corpse, for she remained in the nursery with them. Larkwing, Owleyes, and Cypressfang stepped outside the elders den. Vervainclaw was likely asleep still in his nest.
Surrounded by her Clan, Sedgestrike felt comforted. They all sat a respectful distance away from Toadpaw’s corpse as it lay in the center of the clearing before the Fallen Cypress. For once, the Clan was quiet. No hushed murmurs or whispers fluttered between them. Only the distant, sorrowful cry of a mourning dove could be heard, echoing what all the gathered cats felt: remorse.
“As many of MarshClan’s most senior members know, the final test for apprentices is rigorous and unforgiving. It hurts my heart to say that this was not the first misfortune nor the last,” Whitestar began grimly, head bowed. All the cats of MarshClan reflected her, bowing their heads in silence. “However, it is the test that makes MarshClan strong and ensures we have warriors that are ready and able to endure the greatest hardships, no matter the cost. In the end, we all know it is StarClan that chooses which of our apprentices are ready to accept the duty of a warrior.”
MarshClan was silent. Sedgestrike’s heart felt heavy.
“Toadpaw was always full of laughs. He lived with boundless optimism, much like his father, and always knew the best places to take naps.”
A resonate chuckle emerged from the gathered cats as they collectively recalled their own memories of Toadpaw lounging and chortling. Some began to murmur softly and share their recollections. Others smiled wistfully. Sedgestrike’s head remained bowed, eyes shut. This was her fault. How could she enjoy Toadpaw’s memory, when she was the one that reduced him to one?
“We can all sleep well tonight knowing Toadpaw remains in the welcome arms of StarClan forever. He will be greeted by his mother, Dustpool, and all of our ancestors. In life, and in death, Toadpaw will remain full of laughter and good sleep.”
Redleaf stood, as if on queue, and approached Toadpaw’s corpse. The apprentice’s loved ones also stood, though Russetnose continued to cradle his body as he rested atop it. Redleaf lowered to murmur to the elder gently, and Russetnose hesitated before rising to his paws. Sedgestrike was shocked when it seemed he aged a hundred moons overnight. His eyes were drooping, whiskers frazzled, and he face consumed by several new gray hairs. Grief did not treat him kindly.
“With a heavy heart, I send Toadpaw to be laid to rest. Those closest to him shall lower his body while Redleaf holds a private funeral. MarshClan, make way for your our Clanmate one last time and you may pay respects as he passes.” Whitestar’s head rose. She watched as those closest to Toadpaw hoisted his body up to be carried, with Redleaf leading the way. “May StarClan light your path,” she prayed.
As Toadpaw was carried through the crowd, which had parted for him, cats murmured their condolences and respects. Sedestrike, watching him pass, lowered her head. “I’m sorry,” she mewed.
Once the funeral provision left, MarshClan returned to its usual murmuring congregation. Sedgestrike heard them speak solemnly of Russetnose and Toadpaw’s fate. She felt too hollow to join them.
“There is one more announcement I must make,” Whitestar continued, rising to her paws. “May our newest warriors step forward?”
Summoned from the masses, Sedgestrike robotically stepped forward. She was joined by Blackhawk, Yewbranch, and Ospreyflight. The Clan gathered around them, eyes wide, excited murmurs rising.
“I present to you MarshClan’s newest warriors: Sedgestrike, Blackhawk, Yewbranch, and Ospreyflight!” Whitestar called their names out in celebration. Many of the cats cheered, but too many hearts were heavy for it to become a ruckus. Whitestar acknowledged the fluctuating morale and continued, “It is in times of great hardship that StarClan blesses us with events that deserve celebration. Though our hearts are heavy, we must remember what we should be grateful for.”
The cheers became a little louder as less cats felt guilty about celebrating so soon after Toadpaw was sent off. Sedgestrike heard waves of congratulations and best wishes. She did not feel deserving of any of them. Keen on letting Blackhawk soak up all the praise, Sedgestrike began to inch away from her place before Whitestar. She wanted to get out of the spotlight. She wanted to sleep for moons. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life.
Before she could make her escape, Whitestar’s mew rang out once more. “What’s more, we have to recognize our honor graduates.”
Eager silence settled within the Clan. Sedgestrike could feel them teeming with wonder and excitement. It was beginning to rub off on her. Her curiosity was strong enough to overpower her guilt.
“MarshClan leaders have long recognized apprentices that excelled in comparison to their peers during the final test. In order to commemorate their success, they are dubbed ‘honor graduates.’” Whitestar’s smile was thin. “The pair of warriors with the least amount of failures on their test are as follows…” The pause that ensued charged Sedgestrike with anticipation. “Sedgestrike and Ospreyflight!”
A roar of applause followed, and MarshClan flooded Sedgestrike and her friend. She was surrounded by proud faces and jovial smiles. She got smothered in pats on the back from their tails and friendly nudges. The moniker “honor graduate” seemed more superficial now that Sedgestrike earned it. Though she was awash with celebratory mews, they fell flat on her disheartened face.
“In order to properly welcome our new honor graduates, the alumni that earned the title in the past will gather together to recognize their fraternity.” Whitestar added.
Sedgestrike’s ears perked. She did not know honor graduates would be given such a vast welcome. Perhaps the title was not superficial after all? Interest piqued, she tried to pick out other honor graduates from the past. She only knew of Snakefang and Juniperheart, the two most recent warriors before her and Ospreyflight to earn the title.
Sighing to herself, Sedgestrike peeled away from the crowd, allowing them to swarm Ospreyflight, Blackhawk, and Yewbranch. She longed for solitude. Her long night drained her of energy, and she thirsted for rest. Head lowered, she did not realize she was headed for the apprentices den until she was standing before it. That’s right… She was not allowed to sleep there anymore.
“You want to come back already?” Foxpaw chirped. He hopped to her side with a smile. Sedgestrike returned his grin, not having the heart to resist his brimming jolliness.
“I’m just tired.” Sedgestrike yawned. “I didn’t realize where I was walking.” She slumped, sitting on the cool grass with a sigh. “I didn’t get a chance to sleep last night.”
Foxpaw mimicked her, slumping into the grass with an exaggerated sigh. Sedgestrike giggled, but then grew solemn once more. It seemed Foxpaw shared Mudpaw’s sense of humor. “Well, don’t go in there!” Foxpaw snapped teasingly. “You’re too big for the apprentices den.”
Sedgestrike smirked impishly. “You’re right…” She leaned back, relenting, only to sink forward. “I think I’ll just sleep here.”
“Wait--what?!” Foxpaw began to back away, only to be toppled by Sedgestrike as she fell onto him with a yawn. “H-hey!”
“Wow, the grass is extra comfy today.” Sedgestrike purred, gazing at the slowly brightening sky as Foxpaw remained trapped under her back. Her thick, long fur concealed the little ginger apprentice, only his head popped out of the swathes of her fur. She snuggled her back on top of him, making him grunt in protest. “Good night!”
“U-ugh! You mousebrain!” Foxpaw grunted, chuckling. He wriggled like a worm beneath her. “Your big butt is crushing me!”
As Sedgestrike pretended to shut her eyes and snore, a shadow was cast over her. Foxpaw froze beneath her, and Sedgestrike peeled her eyes open to see was disturbed him. Batface was hovering over her, brow quirked. “I see becoming a warrior has failed to mature you, ‘honor graduate,’” he observed tauntingly.
Sedestrike sat up in an instant, scoffing. Foxpaw scrabbled to his paws and hopped off, clearly intimidated by the senior warrior’s appearance. Seeing Batface used to conjure a similar reaction from Sedgestrike when she was his new apprentice, but now, she smiled at him. “Batface,” she greeted.
“Congratulations.” His rasp was full of emotion, so much so that Sedgestrike could not pinpoint just one.
“Thank you, Batface… I don’t think I would’ve made it this far without you.” If her younger self witnessed this exchange, she would’ve gagged.
“Probably not.” He chuckled as her face wrinkled. Sobering, his voice became serious. “Whether you were fated or guided to this outcome is irrelevant. A victory is a victory.”
Sedgestrike’s heart felt full, it threatened to swell within her chest and burst from the confines of her ribs. “Will… will you retire now?” she asked softly.
Batface’s grizzled muzzled wrinkled with a grin. “I think I have a few moons left in me. I’m not ready to be reduced to a lazing sack of fur yet,” he rasped. He gave an animated sigh. “But no more apprentices, that’s for sure.”
“Good,” Sedgestrike chirped. “Wouldn’t want you to get a new favorite.”
“When did I say you were my favorite?”
She smiled fondly. “You didn’t have to.”
Batface’s gravelly purr soothed Sedgestrike. They shared a comfortable silence, which came to an end when Fernstream emerged from the crowd. Her green eyes were glistening with adoration when they fell upon Sedgestrike. Batface, acknowledging her mother, bowed his head to her and slowly backed away. Sedgestrike was left to be solaced by her mother’s embrace; she craned her neck to hug Sedgestrike’s, purring loudly so that rumbled against her, lulling her.
“Mother,” Sedgestrike breathed. She did not realize how much she needed her mother’s touch until she had it.
“I’m so proud of you, Sedgestrike,” she murmured. “So proud.”
“But--but I didn’t--”
“Shhhh… shhh… I know. Don’t worry your heart.” Fernstream’s comforting mews dared Sedgestrike to unfold. Her worries, fears, and guilt melted from her body, and she was limp against her mother. “You’ve come so far, my little one. I cannot put to words how proud I am of you.”
Sedgestrike could not form coherent sentences. She feared if she opened her mouth, she would sputter or cry. She remained silent, enjoying her mother’s warmth.
“Don’t dwell on what happened to your brother, Sedgestrike. You can’t allow that to weaken your spirit.”
“How do you know?”
“Gingerstep told me everything yesterday. She saw you try and stop Mudpaw and how he fought back. She tried to help you guys, but she was too late.” Fernstream leaned away from Sedgestrike, gazing into her eyes. “Does that mean it’s her fault?” she asked.
“No!” Sedgestrike protested. “She did everything she could! I saw her running to us!”
“You need to be just as forgiving of yourself as you are of others,” Fernstream advised, smiling gently.
Sedgestrike fell silent. Of course Fernstream was right. She always was.
“It was Toadpaw’s time,” Fernstream added solemnly. “We cannot control StarClan’s will.”
“StarClan’s will…” Sedgestrike’s eyes widened in realization. “That’s right! I had to talk to you about something.”
Fernstream nodded slowly. “I hadn’t forgotten.”
Fatigue was replaced by fear in Sedgestrike. Shuffling her paws, she jumbled through ways to word her thoughts well.
“I… When I fell from the Great Cypress…”
“Yes?” Fernstream leaned in.
“I heard you.” Sedgestrike met her mother’s gaze, chin raised. “I heard what you and Redleaf were discussing.”
Her mother froze, eyes wide. For once, it seemed like she didn’t know what to say.
Sedgestrike lowered her voice, whispering, “I know the prophecy.”
“Sedgestrike…”
Sadness overcame her. Seeing Fernstream’s guilty expression, hearing the shame in her voice… Was her mother going to turn her away? Was this too much? She could not bare the thought of losing her too. She already felt like she lost Yewbranch and Mudpaw.
“I’m sorry,” Fernstream mewed.
All around them, the Clan was still embalmed in chaos. A flood of emotions stirred a tempest that hummed endlessly in camp. Laughing, crying, cheering. Today was a day for celebration and remorse; joining the two opposites together created a magnetism that drew everyone together, and they meshed without noticing the dread in Sedgestrike’s face nor the guilt in Fernstream’s.
“I don’t want you to be sorry,” Sedgestriked protested. “I just want… answers.”
Fernstream sighed softly, nodding. “Okay. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Why did you keep this from me, from us, for so long?”
“I… wanted to protect you. The prophecy tormented me before you three were even born. I could not stand the idea of you being tormented just the same.” She lowered her head. “I was going to wait until all three of you became warriors and tell you everything together; I see now that it wasn’t meant to be.”
“You were a medicine cat apprentice? Redleaf’s apprentice?” Sedgestrike leaned in, hungry for answers.
“I was… a long time ago. I wasn’t older than six moons old when he took me in, saying the stars whispered my name.” Fernstream shrugged. “It never felt right to me.” Her gaze ventured to the gathered cats, and she smiled fondly as she watched Shaleheart and Blackhawk rub shoulders, hooting and cheering in the midst of the celebration. “I always adored your father. His boundless optimism, his laugh… I wanted to be with him more than anything.”
“So you abandoned your position?” Sedgestrike pressed. “You did it all… for love?”
Fernstream nodded, still smiling. “How could I not? The thought of not being with him, having his kits, raising a family alongside him… it tortured me.” She leaned in, a knowing twinkle in her eye. “Would you not do the same for love?”
Sedgestrike sat back, taken by the question. She thought… if she had to choose between being with Blueflower and being a warrior… what would she choose? In her heart, she knew the answer. Relenting, she leaned back with a soft sigh. “But why us?”
Fernstream hissed. “You are meant to be,” she asserted. “That much I know. If you weren’t you would not be here today. StarClan works in mysterious ways… maybe this prophecy was not meant to be taken literally?”
Sedgestrike shrugged, feeling hopeless. “I don’t know what it means.”
“I wish I could tell you.” Fernstream’s voice broke. “I really do… but I have yet to come to a conclusion.” She righted herself, back straightening, eyes bright. “But I do know that I could never regret having you three. You all are my greatest treasure.”
The raw, powerful love Fernstream felt threatened to sweep Sedgestrike away. No one could convince her that her mother was not the strongest warrior in the Clan. For her to defy even the stars, potentially, in the name of being a mother… Sedgestrike could only dream for such resolve.
“Yewbranch and Mudpaw know,” Sedgestrike added, ears folded.
“They what?” Fernstream gasped, shock etching across her face.
“I told them two days ago…” Sedgestrike admitted, averting her gaze. “They… didn’t believe me. Mudpaw got very upset.”
Fernstream sighed sympathetically. “It’ll be okay, Sedgestrike. Maybe it’s best if they don’t believe… a prophecy like this... it’s… hard to handle.” She shook her head. “Mudpaw is so much like your father. He enjoys life too much to imagine it not meant to be.” Fernstream sounded melancholy as she continued, “Shaleheart doesn’t know either.”
“He doesn’t?” Sedgestrike’s ears perked with surprise. “I thought you two shared everything…”
“I would shoulder the Great Cypress to protect the ones I love. I could not bear the thought of wrecking your father’s life with my existential dread. It’s not his burden to bear.”
“But it’s ours,” Sedgestrike murmured grudgingly. Of all cats, why did Shaleheart deserve not to know?
“Patience,” Fernstream reminded her softly. “Your father’s strengths are different from ours. We cannot blame him for not sharing our will just as you cannot shame a flower for not being able to grow as tall as a tree.”
“What do we do now?” Sedgestrike asked, hoping to receive a light at the end of this long, dark tunnel.
“We wait,” Fernstream mewed simply. “If this truly is a prophecy, we will wait for it to run its course. You’re destined to fulfill it.”
“But… I don’t want to start a revolution,” Sedgestrike protested meekly. Though she knew her destiny was laid out before her, she feared treading onward. “I don’t want to be remembered as a villain or a tyrant nor do I want that for Yewbranch or Mudpaw. Is there no way to stop this?”
Fernstream shook her head. “Not all rebels are villains, Sedgestrike. Lightningstar is a--”
“I know, I know… he’s remembered as a hero.” Sedgestrike groaned. “I’m tired of hearing that name. I’m nothing like him.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, “Besides, everyone likes Whitestar. Why would I be celebrated for getting rid of her?”
Fernstream’s expression darkened. “Not all cats in MarshClan are satisfied with the way things are,” she mewed cryptically.
“What do you mean?” Sedgestrike pressed.
Fernstream averted her eyes as Whitestar approached, amber eyes blazing. Sedgestrike stiffened, only to slowly relax when she saw a genuine smile on her face. “Sedgestrike,” she greeted. “I suggest you rest up before this evening. The previous honor graduates will be holding a special ceremony for you tonight to welcome you to their fraternity. Ospreyflight is also aware and has retired to the warriors den.” Whitestar spared a glance for Fernstream. “That is, if Fernstream allows it.”
“Of course, Whitestar. What kind of mother would I be to let my daughter go without sleep?” Her mother’s mew was surprisingly terse.
As Whitestar left, Fernstream got to her paws. Sedgestrike stood as well, not wanting to leave her mother just yet, but Fernstream shook her head. “You need sleep, little one,” she reminded her.
Sedgestrike hesitated. “But…”
“We can speak more tomorrow,” Fernstream promised. She smiled at Sedgestrike. “Thank you for talking to me. I… I really am sorry I kept this secret for so long.”
Sedgestrike shrugged. “Just… don’t keep any more from now on, okay?”
“Okay.” Fernstream’s eyes darkened. “I won’t.” She leaned in to rasp her tongue across Sedgestrike’s cheek. “Get some rest now. You have a big night ahead of you.”
“I will,” Sedgestrike promised, smiling. Her smile faded as Fernstream walked away. How could she possibly sleep now? A revolution waited ahead, destined to happen, and Sedgestrike had not the slightest clue how, nor why. What was worse? She knew who would start it: her, Yewbranch, and Mudpaw.
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