Post by » ѕнαdσω ⚔️ on Aug 6, 2016 13:27:48 GMT -5
ｃｌａｎｓ ｏｆ ｔｈｅ ｖａｌｌｅｙ
{{ A Clans of the Valley One- Shot }}
Imagine…a hidden Eden…tucked away in the embrace of the mountain peaks…shafts of light shining down from the heavens on to the rolling green hills of the tundra, the light chasing the shadows gleefully underneath the ancient pines of the forests, the glaciers releasing their bountiful, life-giving water into the shining lake that divides the valley north from south. Misty clouds rise up and glide over the mountains, sighing as their rains trickle down the cliff-faces in a grand spectacle of rainbows that dance like the ethereal lights in the night sky.
So much beauty and life…one would never suspect the sickness that lay within.
“Itzala, please, we must turn back. It is not safe. The disease-“
“Will soon spread to our kin if I do not see for myself the destruction it causes. I am tired of being kept in the boundaries of my own territory while drones of cats die in the other established groups. Understand, Crane, that I do not wish to stand by idly while the sickness of the valley grows.”
Crane, a lean, long-legged grey and white tom bows his head to Itzala, his amber eyes scanning the thinning pine trees ahead.
“As you wish, my lady, just know that what you may see could endanger your mind, much like it has already plagued the once peaceful dreams of some of your followers,” he warns her, his voice slightly trembling.
Itzala pauses at the edge of the tree line, her tall, sleek physique towering over the tom like a supple willow tree. Her dark pelt is wispy and reminds Crane of smoke and fog, black fur dominating her face, back, and the top of her tail, her legs disrupted with stripes of foggy grey along with solid grey on her chest, tail, stomach, and ear tufts. Her light green-yellow eyes pierce the late morning dawn like a beacon, her jaw set in a stubborn line.
“I am not afraid,” she meows, her thick tail tip twitching as she pushes aside the last of the bushes that lead to the lake.
What she sees grips her heart like a steel trap.
The bodies of tens of cats lay scattered around the lake, their pelts caked with mud and grime, as if they had run through the shallow parts of the lake in haste. Their limbs are at odd angles, most of the cats dead on their backs, their mouths parted open and their eyes staring sightless into the sunny sky, as if they had died in mid-spasm.
The lake-side slopes gently downward into the water where more bodies are floating in the shallows or are half on the shore while their haunches remain drenched in the water. Some bodies are surrounded by torn up vegetation, or puddles of yellow or red liquid.
Crane empties his stomach behind a bush, his abdomen heaving and his nostrils flaring at the smell.
Itzala calmly observes the scene, taking in details and diverting it to memory. She quickly realizes that this is no ordinary disease, that it has too many visible symptoms and too many victims from all ages to be natural. She decides to keep her conclusion to herself, knowing that it would only panic and disturb Crane even more.
“Please…h-help me…”
Crane gasps as he re-joins his leader, his amber eyes wide as he sees that one of the dead bodies is still moving, struggling to haul itself up from the lake-shore.
Itzala carefully walks forward, avoiding the puddles of smelly liquid as she approaches the young tom still clinging on to life, his once handsome white coat stained with mud and soiled with slime from the lake. His belly is swollen, distended to the point where even a pregnant queen would be worried about how she would give birth. His round blue eyes are blood shot, and his breathing is heavy and labored.
Itzala leans over the young tom, her desire to console and comfort him nearly over whelming, but she keeps a safe enough distance to remove becoming exposed.
“Young one, you must tell me from which group you came from. It is very important that you tell me so that I may prevent such death from happening again,” she murmurs gently.
The tom swallows thickly, and Itzala can see that he still carries soft, downy kitten fur on his flank and ears. He cannot be much older than 6 moons…
“I-I come from…the pines…the pines where they are th-thickest; the group…that Striker l-led.”
The name sparks interest in Crane. “Striker? Wasn’t he your brother, Itzala? They set up their camp along our eastern border…how could the disease have gotten so far already?”
Itzala shut her eyes tightly, blocking out the images of her strong and versatile brother from her mind. “Are there any from his group that are still alive?”
The young tom feebly shakes his head, his breathing even fainter now. “Striker…he s-sent us down to the l-lake…in hopes-in hopes that we would…meet up with s…someone from…from one of the other g-groups, but…anyone w-who saw us f-fled…”
“Cowards,” Itzala mutters under her breath, anger starting to rise within her.
Crane stepped closer then, his eyes glowing with sympathy for the dying tom. “If we had come sooner, we would have tried our best to help, even if it was as simple as providing your kin comfort in their final hours.”
The young tom tries to smile gratefully, but is too weak to even move muscles on his face.
“Rest now,” Itzala whispers, “Join your kin in our ancestors hunting grounds where you will never feel pain or loss ever again.”
The tom slowly drifts off, his head gently resting back against the shore, his eyes closing as he lets out his last shuddering breath before he stills.
Itzala’s anger boils up and over, and she lets out a frustrated screech into the air, the sound echoing throughout the valley.
Crane lowers his head, grief plainly seen on the planes of his face.
“We were supposed to be protected!” Itzala spits, standing and pacing in between the corpses, “We were supposed to be free from the evils of the Tribe our ancestors fled from…the Tribe who practiced ruthless rituals and who would gladly spill kits blood for entertainment…the Tribe whose curse brought upon the darkest abyss known to the stars…an abyss to where the cursed are sent to suffer in eternal punishment…”
“Itzala…”
The smoky she-cat whips around to face her companion, her green eyes glowing abnormally. “I swear on the life of my kin that if the Tribe has anything to do with this contagion that I will personally escort them all to the Realm of the Dead myself!”
Crane gives his leader a shocked look through wide amber eyes. “Do not speak of the Realm of the Dead in such company that we have, Itzala…you know words are-”
“Power. I know that, Crane, which is why I will use words against the Tribe if I must. If they wish to punish those who were meant to be more than pawns in their game, then they will have to think of a better way to enslave us. So long as I am breathing, Crane, I will make the valley a home that we can be free in; free from the darkness that we were born from,” she says darkly, rage and hatred for the Tribe that had killed her younger sister and mother festering in her soul.
Crane watches her warily, but he too wants the Tribe to pay for crimes to his kin. “Then let them burn in their own contagion,” he growls, coming to stand beside Itzala, “Let them cower under the strength and might of the valley tribes.”
“Yes,” Itzala hisses, “Let them burn and fester and rot like the sickness they made us into.”
“Jump and die.”
Her eyes were hooked into my soul, their talons tearing deep into my ethereal form. She appeared cold, numb, and bleak. Her features were frozen; no expression whatsoever lit their edges. The shadows were eaten alive in her black pelt, making her look flat and un-definable.
Snow flurries hung suspended in the air around us, falling to earth in slow motion, the full moon glittering off their delicate surfaces. A deep, clear stream ran in a semi-circle behind me, the edges of it frozen over, but the middle of the channel continuing onwards past me and over into an abyss.
The end of the world.
The ground which was covered in thick luscious grass dusted over in frosty dew ended abruptly at a drop off beyond her dark form. Little floating islands covered in sparkling mist from waterfalls could be seen on the horizon. Any falling snow that didn’t land on firm ground was lost forever in the chasm.
“Or…”
The plants were all frosted over in shimmering white power, their leaves pale purples and blues and greens. Bundles of roses sprouted up among the ferns, while towering willow trees sighed in the wind and let their long hanging leaves dance in a chilly draft, their tips touching the edges of the stream.
Soft scuffling sounds could be heard in the plant life, little white mice and pale squirrels were foraging for seeds, roots, nuts; anything they could get their tiny trembling paws on. The soft peal of bird song drifted in the air, echoing between the branches of the willow trees, their flapping wings causing little disturbances among the leaves.
A snowflake landed on my pale pink nose, making my nose sting with the cold, but I did not flinch or try to shake it off, for my evergreen eyes were still ensnared in hers.
“Stay and live.”
Why was she asking me this? This is the first time I have seen her since…
Silence follows her words, even the little creatures seem to have quieted down, as if holding their breath, waiting for my answer.
I didn’t have an answer. I was still lost in her eyes; eyes that were glowing, a dark and all-consuming energy pouring out of them.
They were a sweet combination of blue and purple…the reason for her name.
Indigo.
“Indigo…my love-”
“Jump and die, or stay and live,” she repeated, her face expressionless.
This isn’t her…if it was she would be rejoicing. She would be asking about our daughters…she would be telling me that everything will be ok…that we will see each other again.
“Indigo, Indigo it’s me, Warren…your mate!”
“Jump and die, or stay and live.”
A growl escaped from my chest, a cloud of moisture collecting around my muzzle.
“Is that all you can say to me? After two seasons of silence?” I demanded, my chest filling with sharp needle points.
“Jump and die, or stay and live,” she meowed, her voice sounding harder, harsher, and colder.
She was angry.
I took a deep breath to calm myself, fluffing up my dark tabby pelt against the cold, scuffing my white paw against the ground.
At least she is showing me something…
I slowly walk to the edge of the world, turning my back to her, looking out at the magical floating islands, the moon casting everything in a silver glow. It was beautiful and breathtaking.
“Jacinda is as spiteful as ever…she definitely got that from you. She’s working hard to keep everyone fed through this cold-sun…things have gotten worse since you’ve been gone. Prey is scarce, and the sands have started piling up outside our dens…Jacinda thinks we should move, but how can we? We’ve been in the valley for so long…
And Lilly…she had four kits, Indigo, her first litter, two toms and two she-cats, all healthy and lively! You should have been there to see your grandchildren. One of them has a black pelt just like you…and another has Lilly’s golden eyes…”
Indigo was silent, casting no shadow across the ground.
“Cats say Jacinda should be our new leader…can’t say I blame them. I’m getting older, and I am too used to the ways of the old clans…you knew how I was Indigo. You always supported me.”
She sighed softly.
I turned to her, surprised to see her body had turned to face mine on the cliff. Something in the depths of her eyes was…pleading.
“Jump and die, or stay and live,” she whispered, a wind whipping against her thin glossy fur colored the same shade as the night sky.
This isn’t real…Indigo is dead…this is another one of my dreams…right?
“I’m dreaming…you’re just a personification of my grief. You’re not Indigo; she wouldn’t be acting this way,” I murmured, shaking my head, digging my claws into the stony cliff, trying to wake up.
“N-no!”
I stopped, frozen.
“Warren…my love…”
“Indigo?” I gasped.
“Jump…and you die. Stay…with me…and you live,” she emphasized. Her eyes were still pleading, though her features remained an inanimate as ever.
She’s telling me something…but what? That if I jump into that abyss that I’ll die? Well of course I would…but does she mean in this dream…or in the Realm of the Living? And how could I stay in this place and be called living if my dead mate is here?
But I could stay with her…Indigo…
But my daughters…they need me.
I paced forward, gently touching my nose to hers and breathing in her sweet raspberry scent.
“I miss you…more than anything in this world…but you are gone, and I made a promise to you that I would keep our kits safe, no matter what.”
Her eyes filled, her paw suddenly coming out to clutch at my shoulder blade, her face falling into my chest.
“Jump and die…stay and live!” She cried, her frustration coming off in waves, but I could also see in her indigo eyes as she pulled back a glimmer of pride for my decision.
“I will see you soon my love, but only when it’s my time,” I promised her, my voice thick as I felt my heart breaking and shattering into millions of tiny fragments.
I then ripped away from her, turning and streaking to the edge, throwing myself over without hesitation.
I turned in mid-air and looked upwards to watch Indigo fade from view.
I awoke gasping in my brittle bramble nest, my broad chest feeling uncharacteristically heavy.
That was until I realized there was a pair of paws pressed into the flesh there, their claws glinting in the pre-dawn light, the heat from the Realm of the Living melting the ice from my bones.
“What? Who-”
“You jumped,” a voice said amusingly, the sound sending chills down my spine.
Claws were at my throat then, tearing and gouging until my life force was left to spill onto the sandy floor.
Pain…pain everywhere…why won’t it stop?
Warren…my love…you should have died peacefully…you should have stayed…
Indigo…
I faded away, a pair of indigo eyes welcoming me into the afterlife.
Greetings, welcome to my one-shot for Tuesday's Challenges. I am extremely proud of this one for some reason. I think it is because I chose to take an emotional route with this instead of a "perfect writing style" approach. This story hit's home with me, and I hope that other's will be able to share their feels to. :'3 Consider this an official Clans of the Valley Lore. Enjoy! <3
. . .
I was not born like you were; kicking and screaming into the living realm with nothing more than a soul and a vessel to carry it.
You were born from darkness, given to light as a precious offering. You were a blank slate, neither pure nor corrupted, just an empty canvas ready to be painted upon.
I was not born like you were. I was dropped from a high, desolate place, surrounded by faceless creatures whose only goal was to create.
I was dropped alongside many other strange pods of being, one of them being my twin.
She and I were the first ones to land in your living realm, but we proved to hold too much brilliance to remain there. Instead we were cast elsewhere, into the place we now call home; the World Soul.
She became Day, the light and everything warm, good, and living.
I became Night, the dark and everything cold, corrupt, and dead.
My sister was quickly partnered with Sun, a pompous, bright being who only seemed to care about out shining everyone else in the World Soul.
Every time it was my turn to take the sky, Day and Sun would leave spectacular colors behind, making me yearn for such a grand spectacle of my own. And then when it was time to leave, they came in with even brighter luminescence, blinding me and casting me away, back into the darkness that I had been forced to embrace.
Time past, and I was still Night, a blank, black empty void with no light to shed onto the living realm below.
I was feared, for I brought out the worst in others. I created dark opportunity and also awoke sinister beasts that fed on the flesh and blood of the living.
I was the mother of all monsters as far as anyone was concerned.
But I refused to give up. I wanted to have light. I wanted to be seen as something beautiful and loved, not as something to fear as Day and Sun sank into the horizon.
I was determined to find a partner of my own.
. . .
“Please, let me go, I-I have a family!”
“No, not until I determine if you are worthy enough to live in my presence.”
More time has passed. Now living figures such as yourselves have begun dominating the Realm of the Living. I have taken this to be a promising sign, an increase in the likelihood that my partner and companion will be found.
As always, I tilt the tom’s neck backwards, keeping hold of him with the tendrils of darkness that surround me in a shaded halo. I part his jaws with my blackened paw, and place my mouth around his.
A kiss of death.
It is merciful. It never hurts them. In fact they relax, their eyes widening in some sort of trance. Their expression one of awe and longing.
But, like always, it never lasts. That brief moment of wishful thinking is hardened by the crystallization of their souls. My darkness overwhelms them, and the warmth that they carry inside of them evaporates into the surroundings.
I feel that palpable emotion; grief, grief and a potent sense of loneliness as the tom’s body hardens and compresses, floating off the ground and turning into a brilliant, yet cold diamond.
A star.
I press my muzzle against his cold new vessel, a tear of starlight falling from my cheek, sizzling on his surface and causing him to float higher and higher into the air, until he joins the countless other stars that have failed to become my companion.
“Father?”
The grief heightens, but knowing who is behind me I manage to stop the tears and the quivers of loneliness in my body. I slowly turn around to face the new star’s son.
He is young, very young. He still carries his kitten fur, the color a lovely shade of pale silver. His eyes are chips of pale blue, so pale that the blue is almost silver like his fur.
“Who…who are you? What did you do to my father?”
His voice trembles…so delicate and precious that I slowly pace closer until my tail can wrap around his small shivering shoulders.
“I am Night, young one. Do you know what that means?”
His eyes grow impossibly large, his head nodding slightly.
“Yes,” he breathes, “You are the night sky, the one who brings darkness to our world.”
“Exactly,” I purr, caressing the top of his head with my paw.
“But…what happened to my father?”
No. Don’t ask me that.
“Well,” I began, my voice wavering, “he appeared to me…and…I had to test him.”
“Test him for what?”
Persistent.
“To see if he was a worthy companion…someone who could rise and fall with me, just like the day time sky and the sun do.”
“Then why is he gone?”
I was the one shivering now.
“Because, to see if they are a worthy companion I have to give them a glimpse into my heart…your father could not withstand what he saw there, so he became a star, and has now joined many others like him in the World Soul.”
He whimpers.
“Why did he leave me?”
The grief was coming on again. The unbearable loneliness.
“He didn’t leave you! I…I took him away,” I admitted, not wanting to turn the young tom against me, but knowing that it would cause me more pain to watch him blame his father instead.
Anger welled in the distraught tom’s eyes.
“WHY?!”
I sighed.
What’s the point in lying to him? You are Night, an undying being put onto this earth for some role you didn’t want. You have never been able to confide in anyone before, not even to your own sister who is too busy with Sun to give you a simple glance.
“Because…I am alone,” I murmur quietly, “I am sad…and alone…all the time. It is always dark wherever I go, and the only time I have ever felt warmth is when I see my sister Day and her companion Sun cast me from the Living Realm so that they can take over the sky…I am desperate…for someone…anyone…”
The young tom seems to soften.
“So…that’s why you took him? To try and see if he could give you company?” He asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His eyes narrow, and they begin to wander around us, to the dense evergreen forest, to the twinkling sky, to the snow covered ground.
“Test me!” He finally cries, “See if I am worthy!”
I can’t help but laugh.
“No, sweet one. You are too young, and simply not ready for such a test yet.”
A cloud of moisture escapes from his jaws as he heaves a heavy sigh, his gaze disappointed.
I decide to amuse myself.
“But maybe someday?”
Hope returns to the tom’s eyes.
“If I find you again once I’m old enough, and pass the test, does that mean I will get to see my father again?”
I shrug. “I suppose so.”
He smiles, a challenge in his silver eyes.
“Then I will see you again, Night! When that day comes, you will no longer be alone!”
I bring a paw up to my face and laugh again, feeling nostalgic of how many other times this has happened, and of how every single promise ended the same.
Death.
. . .
3 years later...
My sky was becoming quite cluttered.
My sister Day had finally taken notice, and was now scolding me on my…hunting habits.
But it was too late. She had started a vicious cycle.
I would kill, reaping the soul of a handsome young tom after tricking him into my seemingly loving embrace, and then Day would scold me.
I liked the new found attention I was getting, so I would do it again, reveling in both Day’s outcries and the feeling of turning every possible companion I touched into a cold stone…a cold stone like I was.
And here I was again, watching from the World Soul as Day and Sun illuminated the living realm, all the living creatures stepping out into the light with hope and happiness in their eyes.
Why do they fear me so? Why won’t they come out to see me and gaze at me like that?
Bitterness wells up inside me, a mix of burning hot and chilling cold, seizing every fiber of my being and causing my pelt to steam with anger.
My claws tear rifts in the sky, and it begins to darken.
Let daylight end, sister. I need more time to take care of some business.
As you wish, she says, quickly tugging a reluctant Sun with her as I head for the living realm.
I target a small camp of cats living in a high cave on the mountainside, plunging furiously to the ground.
As I land, everything around me becomes pitch black, and the screams begin.
I smile.
If this is to be my role for all eternity, then let me play it as if I enjoyed it.
Let me act as any other creature of the night would.
Let me be a monster.
I grab onto the first tom I see, crushing him to the ground and bestowing upon him the kiss of death.
He fades, and then crystallizes.
I find another wailing close by, and I wrap my jaws around his.
He becomes cold, and then rises to the sky.
I seek out another, quickly disabling him with a cut to his hind leg.
I test him, and he fails.
I strike down three more as rain starts to patter against the earth, a mist rising from the contact.
I am quick, dodging helpless attacks and bringing swift death to those who cry out the loudest. I move as nimble as a shadow, unseen in the dark, targeting tom after tom as they run or clutch onto their families.
It happens so quickly…that by the time I reach the last one, I have yet to shed a single tear.
“No…no, please…I can’t die!”
“Be grateful that I even considered you.”
“Ahhh…”
I watch the last tom rise into the sky, the rain washing away all of my fury, and soaking me to my very core.
I scream, my vice echoing out into the night time sky; the light dim, but present from all of the souls of the toms I have slayed…all of the ones who were not strong enough to withstand my despair.
“SOMEONE! ANYONE!”
I pant, collapsing onto my stomach as my legs sink into the wet dirt, the mud cooling my searing body. Lightning rumbles brightly in the distance.
“He…hel…help me…”
“Even in a state of grief…you are still the most beautiful creature in this universe.”
Weakly, I lift my head, squinting through the rain to catch the tall, thick furred figure of a tom, his bright eyes glowing unnaturally in the dark.
I missed one…that is a first for me.
I growl, slipping on my paws as I struggle to get up.
“You should be running fool!” I spit at him, “I am Night, the mother of darkness herself.”
His mouth curves upwards.
“Yes, I remember from the last time we met.”
A tom that has escaped me from my past? Impossible.
I finally stand, my eyes the color of starlight, my dark halo surrounding my body and extending outwards like a black flame.
“Who are you?”
The tom steps closer, and with every step, the darkness around me gets smaller.
His fur is pure silver, his body riddled with scars and wiry muscle. He walks with a practiced ease, confidence pouring out of him like thick ink. His eyes glitter coldly, and tell of tales of many battles fought, and glimpse into a life of survival and loss.
Eyes of silver light.
“I am here to be tested, Night. Am I worthy to be your companion?”
Shock, an emotion I have never felt before, pierces through me like a sharpened claw.
“It is…it is you…the young tom…,” I stutter, for once not able to find proper words.
My halo vanishes as he wraps his tail around my shoulders.
Just like I did all those seasons ago.
“You said that once I was old enough, I could come find you and take your test. If I passed, I would get to see my father again,” he replies softly.
For the sake of my sanity…I will not kill again.
“No…no, please…I can’t!” I cried.
He growls.
“You said all of that to me…you gave me that much hope…just to take it away? No, you will give me the test!”
“YOU WILL DIE! NO ONE HAS PASSED THE TEST! NOT NOW; NOT EVER!” I screeched.
He shakes me by the shoulders.
“I have dedicated my life to you!” He shouts, “I have spent many nights looking up into your sky; not Day’s! I have seen how the stars grow in number, and when I see their numbers increase on a stormy night, I know that is when you are the loneliest.”
I shake my head.
“No one smiles or greets me in this realm…I am feared…avoided…”
“But I don’t,” he murmurs, “I have gazed upon you every night of my life, and have only seen beauty…beauty and grace. I know you are a good being, but you are overshadowed and overtaken by light. All you seek is someone to share this burden with you, the burden of bringing darkness to our realm. I have shared this with everyone I know, including the ones you just slaughtered tonight,” he says, his voice stern.
Tears of starlight drip down my cheek.
“You…you wandered in the night time? You shared my grief with everyone you met?”
He nods. “Yes! Yes, Night. I have made sure, that even if I die, that you will never be alone anymore. Just…do not test anyone unless they are willing, alright?” He whispers.
My heart, the one I had thought to be dead, beats.
“Yes…yes, I promise!”
“Good,” he breathes, “now…tell me if I am worthy.”
I have learned through the millennia…that the act of death, is more like art.
It is filled with an expanding palate of color, of emotions like grief that leave a striking violet on the canvas. Of emotions like despair that leave tones of grey tearfully dropped onto a wet brush.
I have learned that death…brings about the truth.
“Darkness is not evil, Night. Darkness is just lonely like you are, wanting to find comfort.”
“I am darkness, young one. I am who I choose to be.”
“And who do you choose?”
“Hope.”
He lowers to the ground, craning his neck upward as I lean down to meet him, lightly caressing my nose against his.
“Before I let you glimpse into my heart, I would like to know your name.”
He breathes deeply, then exhales, the rain coming to a gentle stop.
“My name…is Moon.”
Entry for Tuesday's Challenges. Yet another Clans of the Valley one-shot...but with a twist. The main character does not have the spotlight. He is seen through another's eyes. Consider this a sneak peek for the soon to be posted novel, The Wanderer. Here I explored the wilting of ones innocence, and hidden motives for wanting to thrive in that environment, and how relationships in such a place may fold out. Please feel free to discuss among yourselves, I am curious to see how you all interpret this sudden burst of inspiration, and my take on it. Enjoy! . . .
“Hills have eyes, the hills have eyes Who are you to judge, who are you to judge? Hide your lies, girl, hide your lies Only you to trust, only you…”
– "The Hills" by The Weeknd
. . .
The hills are new…the hills are home.
You are vitreous; clear to see, easy to figure out, plain to any eye among these hills.
You do not know this, you are simply running away to a better life, for that is what you told the ones you left behind. Yet, deep down, the truth is you are seeking adventure, and thus excitement in your life.
As the sun begins to sink into this all seeing plane, the rays bounce off your shiny new skin, and many come to greet you to the hills, eager to crack you open and discover the raw material inside.
It is at the firelight that you see him, a handsome one with a dark and endearing gleam in his eyes. His irises are peculiar too, a mix of colors…chips of mint green, watery blue, honey amber, and scarlet orange. They should not belong on any living thing, but the strangeness of it passes over your head like a fly as he approaches, the light playing with his pale covering.
“Welcome,” he purrs, “I noticed you are new here, it’s easy to tell; no one here smells like gardenia.”
You feel flustered. A flattering comment right away? You rarely got any attention back at your old home, not to mention you also didn’t have any good looking toms their either.
“Well…I would assume so,” you stutter out, “for gardenias don’t grow here in the hills.”
He chuckles, a deep, light one that only makes your skin warm up more.
“And an observant one at that! That is rare here,” he comments.
It is then that those observations replay over in your mind. You remember seeing this one before he approached you, when others were greeting you. He had been off in a corner, surrounded by a couple of she-cats who had been curled up close to him, obviously eager for his affections. He only toyed with them, teasing and touching without giving them his full attention.
You squint your eyes, a warning…something telling you that he, despite his good looks and charm, is nothing to be lulled into.
“Thank you for your kind words, but I really must be on my way…I have yet to find a place to sleep,” you confess, figuring telling him the truth and ending the conversation would be the best way to deny him any further contact.
It is then that his eyes change. They are no longer gleaming with that dark and endearing overlay, but are instead sincere and concerned. He looks over his shoulder into the largest of the hills and flicks his tail in the same direction.
“My place is only over those ridges there. I currently lodge there with my family…would you like to stay with us?” he asks, surprisingly backing up a step or two to give you more space to see, and at the same time, making you feel safer and less…crowded in.
Who are you to refuse? He could have been making advances at first, thinking you were like those other she-cats of the hills, the ones whose vitreous armor has already been broken into, the ones whose lies are not so easily distinguished from truth. Any shiny skin that they still have is clouded, and it is hard to see any precious thing inside. This is what the hills did to them.
You know this, but you still came.
Eager to find out.
Eager to know.
Yearning for the excitement of the break-in.
. . .
A few moons later…
It is the flames that eat you alive first.
They blacken you, char your fragile appendages, and melt your shiny exterior.
You realize your vitreous skin is slowly being burned away, but you don’t care.
You would face those cursed flames for him, for even though he is the root cause for all these fogged up and smoky mirrors, he does not notice the damage, nor see the kind of being it’s turning him into.
There is simply too much ash.
You see this, because you weren’t born here. You were not raised into the hills like he was. You have a fresh perspective, you can see the flames, and you can see the scars.
He used them like he’s using you now. He wishes not to be felt, but instead touched, as if switching between a claw and a soft pad is not surmountable. You also are aware that you are not the only one he plays with. He still returns to other she-cats, ones who are more charred than you.
You still do not mind. For some reason it brings you excitement to see your shiny skin melt away, revealing what is underneath, just like those he has visited before. It is with him, and only him, that you have been able to be the self you have wanted to be for the longest time, because he is the only one who does not see use for such transparent armor.
It is also this new home, the hills, which feed this sense of awakening and adventure. The rolling plains with its sunken earth and unique floral patterns.
He still picks you gardenias every once in a while, briefly reminding you of the being you once were. The one with the vitreous skin and the shiny exterior.
It is one day, when he’s at it again, that he asks you something.
“Why do you stay with me?”
Oh, what a strange question to ask, one almost as strange as his beautiful irises, but you are happy that he is speaking out. He seems to be doing it more lately.
“Because I know, Pan,” you reply, softly feeling his shoulder with your paw, “I see what you do not. So I shall be your eyes, and you shall give me what I want most.”
“Which is?” he inquires, his gaze filled with curiosity, and something like regret.
“New skin.”
. . .
One season later…
The hills are no longer so new to you. You have conquered its peaks and its valleys, and have seen all the wonders you have thirsted for.
You no longer shine or stand out among the living here. You are just as broken, charred, and filled with grey lines as everyone else.
All but him. He still has that flame, the one that ignites whenever he sees a new one come, and then once again you and all the rest will all have new scars.
You think you have no more room, but somehow he always finds tiny cracks and folds that foster a clear glass wall.
It has come to a point where days with him have lost their excitement, and you now have come to know the answer to all the wounds, and all the fires that have now been extinguished.
He needs to wander away, much like you did, to find a new home. To re-discover what it is like to have vitreous skin.
“Pan, I think you should do it.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
It really is such a simple answer. He no longer fits in here, a single flame with no one left to feed or strengthen it. His time of growing here is over.
He needs new skin.
“I will miss the hills…,” he admits, “and I will miss you, my friend.”
You smile. A true smile…a rarity in this relationship. He truly has grown and has reached his limit. A sagacious gleam flits around in those exotic irises. He is no longer so endearing to you, though you will miss his presence.
Before he leaves, he picks you one last gardenia before he goes, and it is then that you make one last sacrifice to him. You know you are one of the few he has come to trust in the hills, for you have seen through all the flames. It is time to rid oneself of lies…you must start learning how to tell the truth again, if only for him.
“Pan?”
He turns, his eyes wide, and filled with excitement, something you haven’t seen there for many moons.
“Yes?”
“Change your name,” you say, “that way you can truly start fresh in your new skin.”
He appears confused. “Why?”
You smile again, this time, a sad one.
“Because that’s what I did when I came here. It made things easier when getting involved with new cats. You don’t have to think of the past if you don’t go by the name given to you from it,” you murmur.
An understanding settles in his multi-colored eyes, and he thinks for a few moments, before smirking, that endearing look coming back to the planes of his face, the same one that lured you to him the moment you saw him.
“I think I would like to be called Wanderer,” he says proudly, knowing it would make you happy if he chose something you had discussed with him.
Yes, for he has to wander away to find a new home. Wander away, Wanderer…
“That suits you,” you replied quietly, thoughtfully watching as he walked away into the rising sun over the hills.
An eagerness reaches you, and excitement fills you. Now that Wanderer is gone, you now have the chance to re-discover your new home, but this time instead of coming in with a heart for all to see, you will have it concealed behind the hills, waiting to ignite the flames to break into new vitreous skin.
For the hills have eyes…who are you to judge?
. . .
The Avalanche
This is Cloudspot's POV of the avalanche in chapter 4 of "Curse".
It comes like I knew it would.
The sky darkens and shuts its eyes, the ground quakes and trembles in fear; and the trees groan and scream in pain and sorrow as they are pushed aside by a wall of ice, rock, and snow.
It’s the avalanche. The one that has been haunting my dreams sense my kits were born. Nearly every night, I see it come roaring down the mountainside like an unforgiving torrent of blizzards. In each dream I see it from a different viewpoint. One time I am standing on the crest of a grassy hill at the base of the mountain cliff, and I watch it crunch the rock above me and see it fly over my head down toward the MountainClan camp. Another time I watch it from the overlook, where I can see where it starts on the snowy banks of the Great Mountain. I watch it become unstable and start to slide away, more and more snow and ice and rock barreling down the mountain, reaching unimaginable speeds and picking up more debris as it reaches the edge of the Pine Forest and clears a path so large that the Siberian River could flow through it, twice. I watch as it flattens my home, and takes with it the lives of my kin.
In each dream I am an observer, and I see it in so many ways that I feel almost…grateful. If this were to truly happen, surely I would glean enough information to where I could escape with my family unscathed?
But…as I watch it barrel down on me now, with my kits, Blackkit, Mintkit, Stormkit, Ospreykit, and Shadowkit, and my mate, Maskstar, I realize that there is no plan. There is no way to prepare for this nightmare.
I exchange a glance with Maskstar, his strong amber gaze holding mine, an understanding between us.
He will die for these kits, even if they aren’t his own.
He rushes out of the medicine den where we were visiting my daughter, Shadowkit, who had fallen off a cliff earlier that morning and broken her front leg. I can hear his deep voice yowling out orders to the clan, urging them to get everyone out and to head for the edge of the territory as far away from the avalanche as possible.
I quickly go to Shadowkit’s nest, picking her up by her scruff as gently as possible. Her evergreen eyes, my eyes, are wide and full of confusion. My son, Stormkit comes up beside us, his black and white patched pelt fluffing up in terror, though his deep blue eyes are full of bravery as he mews encouragement to Shadowkit whose tortoiseshell pelt is plastered in bitter smelling herbs.
Sunflower, another queen, mother of her son Eaglekit, comes and picks Eaglekit up along with my daughter Blackkit whose amber eyes and tortoiseshell pelt make her look like a gentle autumn leaf. I catch Eaglekit’s blue, frosty eyes looking over to see a glimpse of Shadowkit in my jaws. He doesn’t look terrified. He looks calm, but obviously worried. Something about him seems achingly familiar, as if I have seen him in a past life, but I refuse to linger on the feeling now. I have to focus.
I watch them go, a sharp pain in my chest making me nearly gasp for breath, my calmed focus breaking.
The sky is getting darker.
Hawkshade, Eaglekit’s father, picks up my daughter Mintkit, with the medicine cat, Moonfern, following close behind, abandoning her herbs and instead going for my smallest kit, Ospreykit, who is wailing loudly, her tiny colorful paws reaching out towards me as she is whisked away.
Don’t feel, just get them out alive!
I put on a burst of speed and force my way out of the medicine den, making sure that Stormkit keeps up and that Shadowkit is held firmly in my jaws.
The sky was turning pitch black.
The trees were crashing to the ground on my heels.
Maskstar comes swooping in at just the right time, as I knew he would.
He was waiting at the entrance, his fiery amber eyes meeting mine once again, and so much passion within them that I once again feel the pain in my chest.
I wish I could have had that with him. I wish I could have been brave enough.
I wish I could be brave now…I wish that I could refuse what he is about to take from me, as I know he will.
He snatches Shadowkit away from me, turning and leaving me to pick up Stormkit by the scruff, whose solid and stubborn face is still concentrated on his sister.
As I knew it would be…
I take Stormkit by the skin of his neck, keeping back my wails and cries of grief.
We are sprinting through the pine trees, the shadows no longer broken up by sunlight, for the chaos and mayhem has swallowed it all.
I can hear the screams and wails of my clan mates, and I realize that not all of them got out before us.
I can hear their bones snap like twigs.
I have to go faster…faster…
I must make it!
I watch Maskstar’s thick tail bob ahead of me, Shadowkit’s legs waving wildly in the wind in front of him. I wish that I had been holding her.
…As I should have been.
Coldness burns my tail, and I am suddenly pulled to a stop as my hind legs are crushed under the weight of a speeding rock, shattering my bones.
I cry out, my first instinct to toss Stormkit away from me so that he might escape, but then I feel the snow starting to pile up on top of me, and I realize that if I did, he would die alone.
I quickly wrap his small body against my chest, pushing my fore-legs against the ground and shouldering the weight of the rock and snow off of him, creating a small space beneath me. I feel my teeth gnashing together with the strain of holding so much weight above me, one of my fangs cracking and splitting off into my lip.
I look upwards to see the last of the pine trees be swallowed by darkness.
. . .
Every time in that dream, I saw myself holding Shadowkit.
I saw us being buried together under the avalanche.
I saw us dying together, and ending the curse once and for all.
But…I am a coward…and cowards don’t deserve to be heroes.
“Mama, why are you shaking?”
I wanted her to have a chance…just a chance…is that too much to ask?
“Mama…you’re bleeding!”
“It’s alright my love. Do not be frightened,” I purred roughly, leaning my neck forward and brushing my nose against Stormkit’s shivering forehead, my heart breaking as I see the pool of blood underneath me where my hind legs should have been standing.
Where was the pain? Shouldn’t I be feeling pain? Where is the punishment for my cowardice?
“It’s so cold, mama…when can we go home?”
Why…why us? Why him?
Why couldn’t I be told what was to come, instead of receiving these ambiguous and painful prophetic images?
“Soon, my love, let’s just…enjoy the fresh air a little longer, ok? Mama just wants to…clear her head.”
“Ok, mama,” he mumbled, curling up closer to my shaking chest, my legs about to give way at any moment.
I ignored the signs…the dreams…the random spurts of knowledge and power. I took it all as a hopeful indication that my ancestors and bestowed on me special gifts to help my clan.
But I was so, so wrong, and so naÏve.
My mother, Nighthawk, told me stories; stories that she had to wait to tell until I was old enough to understand.
My mother explained to me the nature of the curse, how it was like a virus, how it would evolve and morph into something different for every generation so that no one strategy could beat it in its own game
Nighthawk knew that discontinuing the family line would break the curse, as it would be the obvious answer to such an ancient and seemingly impervious omen. And she did.
There is a special herb that only grows on TundraClan territory that can cause a she-cat to become infertile. My mother was desperate enough to do this, even though she wanted kits more than anything in the world…all for the sake of ending misery and agony.
My father was the Medicine cat of MountainClan at the time. He had been the one to suggest the herb to Nighthawk. They were close, as I had been told. She would have gladly become his mate and had his kits if the curse was non-existent, but she put the future ahead of herself, where it belonged.
That night after she took the herb, she was kept in the medicine den, for the herb had possibly life-threatening side-affects.
I remember her telling me that she wished she had died that night.
She remembers her friend, her medicine cat, her only partner in this world who could love her unconditionally…she remembers his eyes turning the iconic cursed evergreen.
I was born three moons later…on the same day that my father took his last breath.
. . .
I know it’s time when I feel the bones in my fore-legs start to crack and pop.
I’m still wondering why there is no pain.
“Mama, your eyes are glowing!”
I notice that the little space I have made with my body is now lit up in a bright, warm, green light, and it’s coming out from my skull.
“Oh, I’m sorry dear. It must just be the reflection of the ice. If it scares you just look away, Stormkit,” I meow as gently as I can, even though it sounds almost like a growl.
Liar. You know what it means.
“No, mama, your eyes are beautiful.”
I shake violently now and I use my chin to tuck Stormkit beneath me, his head right under my ribcage.
“Were not leaving, are we mama?”
“No, my love, we are not.”
“Will…will I see you again?”
A whimper escapes my throat.
Weakling.
“Yes. It may take a while, but I promise; I will find my way to you, no matter what it takes.”
My voice is shaking.
“Is it going to hurt, mama?”
I can take his pain…I know I can.
“No. Just try and sleep, darling. I will make sure that when you wake up you will be in a better place where you will be happy and free of this nightmare. I will see you there, and then we can be together.”
“Ok, mama. I love you…”
“I love you too, my love. More than you will ever know.”
He tucks his head at an angle that I want, and I wait till I feel his breaths even out, and a steady rhythm rises and falls within his black and white splotched chest.
He is asleep.
The green glow from within my eyes brightens and heats the air around me, like a small flame in a tomb.
“Pain…,” I whisper to the darkness.
Then, I let go, and my weight and the weight above me crushes Stormkit beneath me, and snaps his neck.
I feel the neck vertebrae in my own neck snap the same way his does as his pain is transferred onto me, and I scream, my stomach heaving and my eyes watering up as debris flies up into my irises from the force of my body slamming into the ground.
I cry and scream and wail for the next few hours until my voice becomes hoarse; until all I can muster is a dry croak.
I die from blood loss.
. . .
Do you see now, what my family must go through?
Do you see now, the pain that we all wish we could avoid?
The Curse is not the same for all of us. It never will be.
And it will not be the same for Shadowface.
In our twilight hours, the Cursed are faced with the certainty that they will never be welcomed into StarClan’s hunting grounds, and instead will be sent into the never ending Realm of the Dead.
Even in our deaths, even if we end our lives, we will not win.
Living as a cursed being is much better than being a lifeless, soulless spirit forever wandering the Realm of the Dead.
We prefer to live with the fire and darkness of pain than with the numbness of death.
That…is just who we are.
The Poppy Seeds
Hello all Curse fans and non-Curse fans! If you are reading this that means you have found an exclusive bonus scene of my story » C u r Š Ε - - ||, exclusively for Chapter 17. As some of you might have already found, there are other bonus scenes on the front page, don't forget to read those too!!
This scene came a day after finishing chapter 17, strangely enough. After asking fans weather or not I should add this onto what's already been posted for Chapter 17 on the Curse page, I have decided to make it a bonus scene instead of adding it onto what is already Chapter 17.
So without further ado, I give you the alternate ending for Chapter 17, cleverly titled: The Poppy Seeds.
The Poppy Seeds
Instantly, my eyes filled with a red haze as the shock of the news wore off.
Mintfeather, her expression becoming nervous, slowly took a step back. “Shadowface? What’s wrong, aren’t you happy?”
“Where is Moonfern?” I asked, my voice as cold as flint.
“She went to go get berries for Rushstorm’s belly ache, and she was also going to bring back more poppy seeds-“
I was on my paws then, thrusting my face close to hers. “WHERE IS SHE?”
Blackheart’s honey amber eyes widened in shock, stepping closer to me and farther away from Rushstorm who I could tell was still reeling from the news.
“What’s gotten into you, Shadowface?! What has Moonfern got to do with any of this?”
I snarled, whipping around to face Blackheart, her stupidity making me want to claw my eyes out. “Poppy seeds! Think, Blackheart!”
I pushed passed her roughly, charging out into the clearing.
The sound of clumsy paw steps followed me.
“Wait, Shadowface-”
“This is none of your business Eaglefrost!”
He rushed forward and stood in front of me, blocking my path and looking down at my trembling form with understanding and a hint of anger in his eyes.
He didn’t say anything for a good long while, he just stared into my eyes, into the rage and fire hidden within. There was something he knew that he wasn’t supposed to. That much I could tell.
“Moonfern is at the south end of the Siberian River. That’s where she gets those herbs from.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I know why you were taking so many poppy seeds Shadowface. It wasn’t just because of your nightmares, was it?”
Curse you, Eaglefrost…why are you always the one to see right through me?
“Move aside,” I hissed, glaring straight into his eyes, unflinching.
“No. Not until I know that you’re not going to hurt our medicine cat.”
I laughed bitterly. “I won’t hurt her, I’m just going to hurt what’s inside of her.” And with that last confusing statement I ran past him, ignoring the pains in my stomach and heading toward the river and Moonfern.
. . .
Once I found her, I knew it wasn’t her.
She was hunched over, one of her paws hanging limply in the water of the river, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes empty and void of any trace of life.
It wasn’t until I came within a claws distance that her body woke up, her light green eyes becoming darker and more vibrant, an evergreen glow emanating forward from her skull.
“Well, well, well…took you long enough to figure it out, my pet.”
I shivered, a sickening dread filling the very core of my body.
It was him.
“Why?” It was all I could ask.
“Why?! HA! Why not? You were mouse-brained enough to be racing off into the moon light with your lover…what’s his name? Rushstorm? Or is it Eaglefrost, the untouchable one?”
I growled, extending my claws into the soft dirt, the cold bite of the snow helping to keep my burning rage in check.
“Don’t you dare bring them into this-”
Moonfern’s body faced me, his eyes calculating and observing every single hair on my body. His gaze raked me up and down as I spoke, and then he interrupted by chuckling with a sick glee, his fangs protruding over his lip in some sort of toothy grin.
“Oh, I didn’t have to bring them into this, Daughter of Cloudspots…you did that all on your own! Such a joy that half of my work has been done for me…in fact you brought one of them in so deep that his brood is now growing inside of you,” he raised Moonfern’s paw to point at my abdomen, which now felt like it was burning.
“My plan was perfect. You couldn’t have had any idea what I was truly using it for,” I snapped, wanting to deny everything that was happening to me.
I can’t…I can’t be a mother. I can’t watch my own blood grow up only to see them turn into this…to be consumed by something so dark and isolating…
He tilted the medicine cats head at almost a ninety degree angle, his eyes becoming very wide, like an owls.
“You forget, Shadowface, how many have tried to escape my reach before. This has been attempted three times exactly, with you being the third. I have to admit, I didn’t realize it until I saw you sneak off into the night with your tom. Once again, a very fatal mistake.”
He sounded bored. It was clear that he could not care what I did.
I bared my teeth, wanting so badly to rip into his throat, but knowing that would only put more innocent blood on my paws.
Where are my ancestors when I need them? Wolfheart, Cloudspots, Falconwing, even Shadowhunter would be a nice back up right now!
“I still have time! I can still break this curse and free myself and my ancestors from your schemes!”
He sighed, standing and beginning to stalk in a circle around me, his eyes narrowing in on my stomach.
“I still have time, I still have time, I still have time…you all say the exact same thing at the exact same time. You find out your carrying a miracle inside of you, and yet you beg and plead and wish for those tiny precious lives to vanish, to be exterminated…what did those unborn kits ever do to you, Shadowhunter…what did they ever do to you…”
I narrowed my eyes, finding myself curling my front paw over my stomach protectively. “Shadowhunter? What do you mean?”
His eyes were far away now, and he walked even slower around me, coming to a faint-hearted stop to my right, sitting down heavily on his haunches, Moonfern’s messy silver tabby fur glowing in the white sparkling light from the sunlight hitting the snow.
“You should feel lucky, Shadowface. Your daughter might just be strong enough to bring this all to an end…with every generation that is born, your powers grow stronger. You being the strongest at this present moment out of all your ancestors…”
I narrowed my eyes, deciding to keep my mouth shut and instead learn what I could from him before he vanished. I also noted that he didn’t answer my question about him saying Shadowhunter’s name instead of mine.
But there was one question that had haunted my mind ever since I first felt him in my head.
“Why don’t you just kill me?”
I whispered it, each word spoken with care. I had never thought about dying. It was out of the question for me. I refused darkness when it called. I would rather burn in the flames of a cursed life than die before I could attempt to do everything in my power to break free.
He smiled through Moonfern’s lips. “Now that’s a first.”
“Really? I figured if others before me had ended their lives themselves than there should have been some begging for you to do it for them,” I hissed.
He nodded. “Yes, but that’s not what you’re asking. You are asking why? Why don’t I end you here and now? And I can tell you Shadowface, that it would be easy for me, but it isn’t fun…I like watching you all…trying to find me…trying to blame me and end me…only one of you has come close to the truth, but I had to end that little ray of hope because it was much too early…I wanted more time to see Shadowhunter’s line suffer…”
“Who was it?”
Keep him talking. Maybe he can tell me something useful.
“Humph, you are more curious than your kin…that is for sure. I might as well reward you for getting this close. Her name was Jadestar, daughter of Shadowhunter, leader of MountainClan.”
I felt my jaw fall open.
Jadestar?! One of the most famous Valley leaders in clan history? She’s my ancestor? How in the Realms name did I come from that?!
“Uh, oh…wow…”
Yep, that’s how you respond to the tom who’s ruined your entire family.
He grinned, his limbs beginning to twitch. “Unfortunately you will never find her in the Realm of the Dead with the rest of your family. She is mine, a sign of good faith between me and Shadowhunter.”
I hissed in frustration, wanting be rid of his presence. “Whatever happened between you and Shadowhunter? What could she have done to deserve all of this?”
Moonfern’s body was shaking more violently now, and her eyes flickered back and forth from evergreen to a light green.
“I…am just…returning the favor…”
Then her eyes returned to normal, and she collapsed on her side, the sickening presence of what used to be inside of her slowly trickling away.
Shadowhunter…what did you do to bring this all down upon us?
The Crimson Bloom
A [ Ｃｌａｎｓ ｏｆ ｔｈｅ Ｖａｌｌｅｙ ] one-shot. Entry for Tuesday's Challenges.
“The song is about asserting yourself and reclaiming your humanity through an act of love. Turning your back on the theoretical thing, something that’s not tangible, and choosing to worship or love something that is tangible and real.” – Hozier
"Take me to Church" by Hozier
My lover's got humor
She's the giggle at a funeral
Knows everybody's disapproval
I should've worshipped her sooner
If the heavens ever did speak
She's the last true mouthpiece
Every Sunday's getting more bleak
A fresh poison each week
"We were born sick," you heard them say it
My church offers no absolutes
She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom."
The only heaven I'll be sent to
Is when I'm alone with you
I was born sick
But I love it
Command me to be well
Aaay. Amen. Amen. Amen.
[Chorus 2x:] Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life
If I'm a pagan of the good times
My lover's the sunlight
To keep the Goddess on my side
She demands a sacrifice
Drain the whole sea
Get something shiny
Something meaty for the main course
That's a fine-looking high horse
What you got in the stable?
We've a lot of starving faithful
That looks tasty
That looks plenty
This is hungry work
[Chorus 2x:] Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife
Offer me my deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life
No Masters or Kings
When the Ritual begins
There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin
In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene
Only then I am human
Only then I am clean
Ooh oh. Amen. Amen. Amen.
[Chorus 2x:] Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life
The Story
It took me a long while to understand what he meant, and in turn understand why he left my mother and me.
Maybe it was because for generations my family has been obsessively waiting for me to be born…for my kind to be born. A kind of being who transcended all others, and who could defy the boundaries between life and death.
For on the day I opened my eyes, the crimson roses bloomed on the mountainside, filling the greenery with beautiful blood…blood that was the same color as my irises.
My father saw those irises and witnessed the joy bloom on my mother’s face just like those bloody roses, her awe like the one someone would wear when staring at a dead cat wrapped in a cloud of stars.
He saw this, and maybe he realized my mother was no longer devoted to their love, but was now consumed with the crimson bloom inside my newly opened eyes.
. . .
I was born into this world as the weakest in a litter of three; two toms and myself, a she-cat.
My mother was named Cloudstep, a long-haired dark grey she-cat with snowy white paws. I was never told my father’s name, for he left us just after I opened my eyes, and was murdered by the rouges a few days later.
I do, however, remember clearly what his face looked like.
It’s my first clear memory. A memory of blood, and of a face in a permanent snarl, its fur as red as fur can get, the ears shredded, and the nose a calm peach.
Both of my brothers were red too, but neither survived their first moon, for we were given life in the middle of the cold-sun, and sickness was prevalent in the old and the young.
My mother told me I survived because I was born during the time of the crimson bloom; a time when the slopes of the valley become covered with red roses in the whiteness of the snowy banks. She said the flowers only bloomed when one of my kind was born, and from then on the roses would grant that special birth a long healthy life filled with the promise of strength and beauty.
I believed her, as any daughter would, and took it on as my reality.
. . .
Seven moons later…
“Hey, Darkpaw!”
It was cold-sun again. Here in the valley we were lucky to get more than three moons of warm-sun per season, and this season’s warm-sun was particularly short.
But that didn’t deter any of the valley clans. We were used to this harsh and unforgiving environment. Even the apprentices were making the best out of the cold.
I lifted my head, about to respond when a pile of snow fell on me, flattening me to the ground.
Laughs burst out around me.
“Wow, she really must have been deep in thought to have missed that!”
“Great…thanks Galepaw, now I feel guilty for doing this…”
“Oh, lighten up, Moonpaw! It was funny!”
I growled, thrusting myself upwards from the snow and locking my crimson eyes on Galepaw, a stormy grey tabby tom with random white streaks throughout his pelt and misty blue eyes.
“So, it was you?” I hissed, grinning as I saw fear bristle across his body like ants drowning in water.
He gulped, trying to be brave, “Ye-yeah? What are you going to do about it?”
I purred, strolling up to him and then carefully placing my dark smoky grey paw upon his head.
“Oh, nothing…just this!”
I brought back my other paw and jabbed it forwards, hard, at his throat.
He choked, falling over and gasping.
“Darkpaw! Why do you always have to resort to throat punching?”
Ebonypaw, the speaker, was a very dark black she-cat with a strange blueish hue, like a raven’s feathers, on her pelt.
She sat by Galepaw’s side, rubbing his shoulders as he got his breath back.
“I think it’s cool, she’s the only cat who knows how to do it,” Moonpaw said, leaping down from the pine tree where she had knocked over the pile of snow onto me.
I smiled at her as she approached, her pure white pelt nearly blending into her snowy surroundings, her extremely pale blue eyes shining with humor.
She was slightly taller than me, her legs long and limber. She looked a lot like a perfect snowflake.
She was Ebonypaw’s sister, but they looked and acted so unalike you wouldn’t be able to tell until they told you.
Ebonypaw scoffed, helping Galepaw up. “Of course you would think Darkpaw’s attacks are funny!” she scolded, her watery blue eyes furious.
I laughed, Moonpaw joining in.
“You’re just mad that I’m still the only one who can defeat Galepaw in combat!”
“Am not!”
Moonpaw leaned in to whisper in my ear, “I heard the reason she wants to be stronger than him is so that she can protect him, isn’t that cute?”
I giggled, my ear tips turning red.
Ebonypaw narrowed her eyes, her pelt bristling.
“What are you two cackling about?” she snapped.
“Oh, nothing,” I purred, nodding my head at Galepaw, “I would apologize, but he kind of had it coming.”
Galepaw groaned. “Forget it. Let’s just head back to camp, I’m starving!”
We all laughed then, Ebonypaw taking the lead in the next joke.
“You’re always hungry!”
I hung back a little, watching my three friends as they walked away from me, heading back to the MountainClan camp.
Briefly, Moonpaw looked back at me and smiled gently, not bothering to ask why I wasn’t coming. She knew this is what I did, I just liked to enjoy things looking from the outside in.
“Darkpaw…”
I jumped, narrowing my eyes and spinning around as my friends vanished into the trees, leaving me alone in the forest.
“Whose there?” I called, my voice hard as flint.
The voice was thin and faint, like a sigh carried upon the chilled winds.
“Bring about a crimson bloom…save the curse…”
I hissed, turning around again and finding myself face to face with the pine Moonpaw had climbed, and seeing that nested among its roots, there was a single blood red rose.
. . .
“Mother…are ghosts real?”
Cloudstep laughed, nestled up in a comfy nest in the warriors den with a decently fat squirrel under her paws.
“Ghosts? No, sweetheart. There is only StarClan, and they do not bother with us common cats. They only communicate with valley leaders or our medicine cats.”
“Oh…are you sure? Because I heard…,” I paused, suddenly afraid of what my mother would think if I told her that I was hearing strange voices in the woods.
Only StarClan and the Dark Forest are supposed to exist…if it isn’t StarClan…what if I’m crazy?
“Yes? What is it? You know you can tell me my precious flower,” she purred.
I swallowed my cowardice, gathering courage in my stomach.
“There was a voice…that knew my name, and they told me I have to bring the crimson bloom back, and to save the curse,” I meowed, locking my eyes on her to gauge her reaction.
She seemed, disturbed…maybe even slightly disgusted, but there was something in her eyes that told me that something I said made her feel nostalgic.
Then, she told me something that would change my life and my reality forever.
She told me, that I was cursed.
. . .
Six moons later…
I hated my eyes now, and almost anytime I spotted a red rose, I would go stomp on it and bury it.
“Darkpaw?”
Moons past this way, and life went on, but a part of me was left behind, buried with those roses, caught up in the discovery that I was not like other cats.
“Darkpaw, what’s wrong?”
That I was never going to be allowed into StarClan’s hunting grounds.
“Darkpaw, say something!”
That I had the power to…
“Yes?”
I slowly came out of my thoughts, only to find myself imprisoned by Moonpaw’s icy gaze.
“You’ve been acting so off lately…come on, I know just the thing to cheer you up!”
My eyes widened as she tugged me away from the training pit, the sunshine pooling on the ground causing her pelt to sparkle like the surface of the lonely lake.
“What are you doing?!” I protested, pulling backwards on her grasp.
She was tugging on my paw with her jaws, stubbornly trying to pull me away from our training session while our mentors were off getting the others to do combat sessions.
“We can’t just leave!” I hissed.
She growled around my paw, tugging harder, her irises filled with humor.
“Come on, I know you like adventures!”
She then abruptly let go, sending me backwards onto my rear end, sand and pine-needles flying up into my nose.
I sneezed, then glared up at Moonpaw, her expression triumphant.
“You’re coming with me, rose,” she teased, using my nick name which only made me want to go with her more.
“You stink,” I hissed, grinning as I ran away with her toward the Great Mountain peak.
. . .
“Maybe I don’t want to have kits, mother!”
“But you will have kits! And you will bring into this world more like you!”
“Why? What’s the point? You said StarClan was the only good thing to look forward to after I die, but now you say that my kind never will enter that realm! Why would I cause my kits that same pain?!”
“It’s that she-cat, isn’t it? The one you chose to represent in your warrior name?”
“What?”
“You heard me, Darkmoon! Ever since-”
“Don’t you dare bring her into this, it is my choice whether or not to have kits!”
“Then you are a disgrace to me and to StarClan!”
“Fine! Maybe I like it that way!”
. . .
I ran with Moonpaw to the very top of the peak, taking a hidden trail that wound all the way up to an outcrop that gave a fantastic view of the entire valley.
Hauling myself up the last few paw-steps, I took a moment once my head peered over onto the outcrop to gaze upon Moonpaw who stood at the very edge, her face lifted up to the sky, her expression peaceful as the warm winds played with her white pelt.
“So…why did you bring me here besides the cool view?” I asked her, gazing at her curiously.
She smiled as she turned to face me, gesturing with her tail for me to come join her at the edge.
I approached, and as I did I noticed a strange marking etched into the stone.
It was a perfect circle scratched into the stone. Inside the circle were delicate symbols and patterns. At the very center there was a larger etching…a blackened tadpole looking shape that was curling around itself.
I laughed, looking up at Moonpaw.
“This is neat! What is it?”
She pondered for a heartbeat, looking a little shy.
“I think…I think it holds a power of some kind. When I touch it, it feels warm against my paw…what if this was something that was here before…before StarClan?” she whispered.
Before…StarClan? No. Impossible.
“No, there is only StarClan,” I murmured.
“Oh, come on Darkpaw, just touch it!”
“No!”
“Are you afraid? Neither of us have ever seen or felt evidence of StarClan…but this, this is real, and tangible! Like the crimson bloom that occurred when you were born. A beautiful coincidence! What if this is something else; another coincidence? Just touch it, Darkpaw,” she encouraged.
I narrowed my eyes, and slowly brought my paw forward to touch the etching right next to where Moonpaw’s was.
Death then crawled up my leg…and the world went pitch black.
. . .
Everything was black.
I couldn’t see anything.
The earth beneath me was a very cold, bitter stone, turning my blood there numb.
Then, out from the darkness, a dim red glow appeared, and grew and grew until the blackness above me became a crimson sky.
I twisted and turned, trying to see landmarks, but the stone was grey and flat, the horizon empty.
“Strange…that when I finally came to find you, that you would be here.”
I gasped and whirled around, coming face to face with a red-eyed she-cat.
The same eyes as mine.
Her coat was split perfectly between black on the right side of her body and white on the left, the border of the two colors constantly shifting, as if her fur was fog attached to her frame.
“Who are you?” I whispered, “Are you a StarClan cat?”
She shook her head. “My name…is Hadiya, and I’m far from a glittering StarClan ancestor,” she said gravely.
My body shook, and I felt my limbs getting weaker.
“If…you’re not a StarClan cat…”
Hadiya smiled. “I am a cat, just like you, I have just moved on from the Realm of the Living.”
“Realm…of the Living?” I hissed, confused.
She sighed. “Should have figured. Well, let’s just put it like this, StarClan, or the Realm of the Stars, is one of seven realms, one of them being yours, the Realm of the Living.”
StarClan…isn’t the only one?
“How can I believe anything you say?”
“You can choose to believe in anything you want to, little one. You just got to be brave and choose what feels more real and tangible to you.”
I backed up slowly, suddenly finding myself belly deep in crimson roses.
“N-no, I don’t want to believe in anything!”
“Listen, Darkpaw, you are different than everyone else…and because of this your life will be different from all others. You will be stronger, faster, more dangerous…but you can also be a savior. That is why I’m here-”
“No!” I protested, covering my ears with my paws.
Hadiya growled, red rose petals beginning to rain down from the sky.
“Stop! You must listen and get past whatever is blocking you from your curse! You can’t keep denying your nature.”
“No! Just leave me alone! I’m not sick! I’m not sick!” I screamed.
Hadiya was touching me then, her paw resting gently on my head.
The roses then vanished.
I breathed heavily, slowly dropping my paws from my ears and looking up at Hadiya.
Her eyes were filled with a deep compassion and of an understanding that at the time I wish I had.
“My precious, precious descendant…you are not sick…you are blessed,” she whispered, her breath smelling like the pines back home.
She then lifted her other paw, a small crimson rose resting on her paw, bringing it up to my eye-level.
“All your life, you have been given dreams…theoretical happiness. But with this curse that you can see and feel within yourself…you can finally find love and believe in something that is real.”
Then, Moonpaw materialized next to me, her eyes wide as an owls.
“Moonpaw!” I gasped.
Her eyes were wrong. They no longer sparkled…they were vacant, filled with horror.
“I-I can’t…be here…help me…”
She then fell, collapsing onto her side.
“Moonpaw!” I wailed, collapsing next to her and shaking her, panic taking over me.
“Help me!” I pleaded to Hadiya who had taken a few steps back.
“No,” she whispered, “this is no longer your reality. You must move on. Use your curse and bring her back to life.”
“No! No, Moonpaw!”
Her body…her body was becoming so cold…
My eyes then lit up, an intense fire erupting in my skull.
I cast a hungry red glow onto her body, turning her pure white pelt into a stained crimson.
“Come back to me, Moonpaw!” I screeched, feeling this strange power flow through me, the hunger turning into a burden, feeling those red flames inside of me burst forth and attach themselves into Moonpaw.
“Moonpaw!”
. . .
We arrived back in our own realm in the same contrast.
Dark on light…red on white.
“No…,” I whispered, my paws placed on Moonpaw’s still chest, “Co-come back to me…”
She didn’t move, she didn’t breathe.
My curse…at the time I was too young to understand that I could have saved her.
I was too pure, too innocent to understand death, even though I had witnessed my father’s blood as a kit.
I cradled her head in my paws, curling up closely to her body as her warmth faded.
Beside her, resting in her paw, was a single crimson rose.
The rose…my new tangible reality.
Only seven moons later, another crimson bloom would arrive in the valley.
And her name, was Shadowkit.
Nulla Perditio
Nulla Perditio - "Non-Existent Destruction"
Welcome! This is another Clans of the Valley one-shot with a special concentration on the Curse story. I've had a lot of curious readers ask about the time between Jadestar's leadership and Shadowface's birth. What happened to other members of Shadowface's cursed family? What means and methods did they use to try to break the curse? While we have gotten to explore Jadestar's struggle, and get insights into the fate of Shadowface's great grandmother, grandmother, and mother, Wolfheart, Nighthawk and Cloudspots, there are lots of other interesting stories to be told. This particular one takes place only a few generations after Jadestar's death. As a forewarning, there might be some things you might not get unless you have read Curse, but whether you are reading chapter nine or haven't touched Curse, you can still enjoy this look into Curse history! Enjoy! Happy reading. (:
- - -
Destruction.
You’ve never truly experienced it until you’ve been on the other side of a curse’s fury.
Even as I stand here now, watching my clan go up in flames, I am still in awe of the sheer power hidden in the valley.
Where did it come from? How did felines come to possess it? Are they even cats anymore?
I was born into this life, a life of cursed. My family has been subject to the tortures of their kind for generations, and thus far, none of us has been able to break the cycle.
Birth, motherhood, death. Birth, motherhood, death. Birth, motherhood…
Green flame reflects in my green irises. The green fire licks at the green pines and scorches the green grass. It releases green screams as my clan mates fur turns green. Green tinted smoke rises into a green storm ready to dispose of its green water onto the green world.
Green…all I see is green…
My curse…is green.
That is all I know.
That is all that has been known.
He’s walking toward me now, a dark cursed creature emerging unscathed from the green flames, his handsome features turned sour by his malevolent gaze. His eyes burn with the hatred of a thousand crying souls. What have you done? Where is she? What have you done to my daughter? He cries.
My son. He’s glaring at my son who is cradled in my paws. My only son. I wasn’t supposed to have a son. He didn’t want me to have a son.
Why is my clan still burning? Hasn’t the storm begun?
Lightning breaks the clouds and shatters to the ground, lifting the furs on my spine.
His eyes are there in mine. We have the same evergreen irises. I can’t tell the difference between mine and his, even though he is destroying everything that I held comfort in. I would never do such a thing. I would never take away someone else’s reason for living. So why are our eyes the same color?
I am not a monster. I am a warrior of MountainClan. I am a queen of two healthy kits.
My job is to protect my clan…so why am I hurting them?
Why is he destroying their lives?
Why am I standing here, doing nothing?
Mother, where are you?
Mother, why didn’t you warn me?
Mother, why did you give me this curse?
“Mother…”
His black pelt ruffles in the angry wind. “Give him to me, Ravenstep.”
I look down, gazing upon the small, dark, brown tabby body of my son. His eyes only opened yesterday, and they were as blue as the sky and as piercing as a glacier.
He looks so much like his father…
Another lightning bolt descends and grazes a pine, splitting it in half and falling on the elders den, crushing those inside.
Why don’t I hear screams? I can feel the raindrops.
I raise my eyes to his, their depths glowing brightly. The sky has darkened further, and now every light source sends out beams of light.
“Eaglekit is not yours to take,” I whisper, clutching my son tighter in my grasp. He has passed out from inhaling too much smoke. I need to get him away from here.
Why can’t I move? I’m getting wet.
He growls, flames hungrily swallowing his fur, and yet it does not burn.
“There is a price to pay for murdering an innocent,” he says, reaching his paw out for Eaglekit.
That is right…innocent lives must be avenged.
I feel my son slipping into his grasp, his claws closing around his small fragile body.
“Eaglekit is not yours to take,” I murmur, my eyes unfocused and my breathing uneven.
“He is mine, Ravenstep. Every single kit you will ever produce will be mine,” he hisses, narrowing his eyes at Eaglekit who lays limply in his embrace.
Yes. Innocent lives must be avenged.
“But why him? He is innocent. His life…it cannot be destroyed,” I say, confusion causing my mind to spin out of control.
The rain cannot put out the green flames licking the green pines or the green grass. My clan mates have either run from the camp or have been incinerated. There is no more screaming. There is no one left to scream.
I am not a monster…
“He once lived during Jadestar’s time in a past life. I cannot let him live again. He will destroy everything I have worked for…you don’t want that do you, Ravenstep?”
“He…no, she’s supposed to break the cycle…my daughter…mother…”
“Guardians are too much trouble. They spell disaster and destruction for both our parties.”
“He’s a guardian? Mother said I was supposed to have one…”
I feel claws around my throat. I can’t breathe. Automatically my paws go up to his. I pull and scrape and claw, but his hold does not budge.
“None of you will ever have a guardian. I will make sure of that!” He snarls, consumed by an inner rage that I didn’t think existed.
I am lifted off the ground, and tossed.
The rain has slicked back my dark grey tabby fur, my black stripes now darker than the shadows under the pines. My eyes close. I know I am flying over the walls of the camp. I can feel flames brushing my damp fur, their heat making my skin tingle. The branches of the pines I’m sent through tickles my fur. My stomach flies into my mouth, and my bones creak from the force of being thrown so far.
Where did this power come from? If we have the same eyes, where is my power?
Why did I give Eaglekit to him?
I am caught.
I gasp, desperately grasping onto whatever is catching me. I feel thick fur underneath my claws. I draw blood.
We skid for a good distance before coming to a complete stop. Mud, twigs, and bushes stick to us, and as I am set back on my paws, I can look up into the eyes of my rescuer.
He has yellow eyes; bright like the sun.
“Are you ok, Ravenstep? Where are Eaglekit and Ivykit?”
He smells like pines…is he from PineClan?
“Sunclaw! The MountainClan camp is on fire, we must go save the others!”
Sunclaw whips his head away from me, looking at the she-cat who spoke, his white and golden tabby stripes glowing eerily in the storm.
“Everyone in there is dead, Birchwing. No normal cat survives green flames.”
I hear a frustrated sigh.
“We were too late then?”
Sunclaw looks back at me, reaching with his paw to gently wipe away mud on my face.
“No. We’re not. Her kits are still in there. And I have a feeling someone is in there with them.”
Birchwing gasps. I can finally see her appearance as she gets closer, her electric blue eyes locked on my evergreen. She’s a light dusky brown she-cat with small white paws, long legs, and a white-tipped tail. She’s clearly from TundraClan.
“When did Ravenstep get those eyes?”
Sunclaw continues to clean mud off my face and neck, being careful with the fresh injury on my throat.
“She’s Jadestar’s family. The Fallen Warrior hunts her,” he says grimly, his tail tip twitching. “The green eyes are his mark.”
Birchwing shakes her head slowly, grief filling her gaze.
“How low have cursed become?”
Sunclaw stops cleaning me and helps me lie down. The ground is wet and cold, but I can barely feel it.
Where are my kits? What am I doing here? Why can’t I speak?
“Sunclaw…Jadestar was your family too, wasn’t she?” Birchwing murmurs, realization coming to her eyes.
Sunclaw turns away, and when he does I can see a large white patch on the right side of his face.
I touch an old scar on my face, tracing it from above my brow and across my right cheek.
“Yes, which is why this is personal. Let’s go, Birchwing.”
She nods, her electric blue eyes suddenly glowing brightly, a tiny flame present deep within her irises.
Sunclaw’s eyes does the same, and together they run through the smoke, approaching the MountainClan camp with great speed.
No…don’t go…he will…
I passed out, the stress too much for my body to handle.
. . .
“She couldn’t do anything. Her mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening.”
“Poor thing…Ravenstep shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”
“We can’t help. It’s beyond us.”
“I just wish we could have saved Eaglekit…”
“I know.”
“I need to erase their memories. If word got out that this happened to MountainClan…there will be a panic.”
“And a hunt. The Fallen Warrior will be tracked down, but they will never catch him. He’s already dead.”
“It will be a lost cause from the start. He’s a spirit without his soul.”
“I wonder where it is…his soul, it should have gone with him into the afterlife.”
“Whatever happened, this whole place is destroyed which is what matters now…do you think you can do something about that?”
“Yes. I can change the fate of this place, just make sure you take care of their memories. There are some things I can’t reverse.”
“Of course, Sunclaw.”
. . .
I awoke with the sun beating down on me.
I gasped, getting up quickly, my heart rate taking off, thrumming in my chest. I looked down at my fur, it was completely clean.
I looked around, shocked to find myself lying in front of the nursery.
The den wasn’t scorched.
My heart rate continued to climb.
I scanned the camp, and there was no smoke damage, no burn marks, and no signs of destruction.
I saw the shadows of my clan mates. Most of them were asleep peacefully in their dens. None of them were piles of ash. All of them were unscarred.
The elders den looked different. A fallen pine tree now made the roof of the den instead of the thick bramble that used to be there.
I brought my paw up to my throat, wincing when my pad grazed my skin.
It was severely bruised.
I took my paw away, my whole leg shaking.
I ran into the nursery, ignoring the pine needles that scratched harshly at my pelt.
I looked into my nest, and saw my daughter, Ivykit, quietly sleeping, curled up in a tight ball with her black nose twitching from a small fly buzzing around her.
I swatted it away, leaning down to feel Ivykit’s heartbeat. It was there. It was moving.
Something is missing…something is not right…
Why am I checking the camp for signs of a fire?
Some instinct propelled me back out into the camp clearing, my legs steering me in the direction of the camp entrance.
“Ravenstep!” Someone hissed.
I jumped, turning and seeing a white and golden tabby tom-cat with yellow eyes peering at me from a group of bushes next to the camp wall.
“Sunclaw?” I hissed back, my green eyes widening. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes widened in exchange. “You remember my name? You shouldn’t…what do you remember?”
Green flames erupted from my right paw, and I lifted it into the air, bringing the full force of my inner flame down on Sunclaw’s face.
He didn’t expect it at all, so my paw connected with his flesh, flinging him down onto the ground, sprawling into the dirt.
I climbed on top of him and grasped his chest fur, pulling him up then slamming him back into the ground again.
“What happened?” I demanded, my heart rate still not calming down.
He spat out blood, shock evident in his gaze.
“You obviously remember enough if I get this kind of treatment.”
“Enough of your games! Where is that other she-cat from TundraClan? Birchwing? You two ran into the smoke and left me out in the woods!”
“For your own safety!” Sunclaw hissed, trying to pry me off him, but my green flame was licking at his chin fur, so he couldn’t move too much, or else he would turn into kindle for the fire.
“What did you do to me? To my clan? Why can’t I remember everything? Something is missing!” I cried, my breathing becoming unstable.
Sunclaw raised his arms and clasped his paws around my shoulders.
“It doesn’t matter. Everything is how it should be and that’s all you need to know.”
I sniffed, my body shaking.
“The elders den…there is a pine on top of it.”
Sunclaw shrugged. “It looks cool?”
I shoved him harder into the ground.
“Whoa! Rave-Ravenstep! We saved you all, you should be grateful!”
“There should be two kits in my nest!”
Sunclaw froze, his yellow eyes filling with a dark emotion, diluting the brightness of his eyes.
I panted, extinguishing my flame in my right paw and rolling off of him, lying next to him in the soft green grass.
“I’m supposed to have two kits…Ivykit and…and…”
“The other one,” Sunclaw finished for me, his voice curt.
“The other one had a name,” I whispered fiercely, tracing the scar on the right side of my face with my paw. “I got this scar for that one. I saved that one from a hawk.”
Sunclaw rolled on his side, laying his paw on my chest.
“You don’t want to remember, Ravenstep. Trust me. It is better this way. We avoided the destruction of MountainClan, and now you can live out your life with Ivykit,” he said softly, urging me to see this lie as my new life.
I got up, my evergreen eyes burning.
“No. You destroyed my kit’s life. He should exist, you see, because this scar says he does,” I explained roughly, touching my scar again, “but because of you he will never be remembered. You have destroyed him. You have murdered him,” I growled, glaring down at Sunclaw.
“Him…so you are more than just one curse,” Sunclaw murmured, standing on his paws.
I felt something building with my heart beat. With every breath I took, something screamed in my head to do something.
The innocent should be avenged.
Yes.
Mother, where were you?
Why did they murder his daughter?
The screaming echoed loudly. There was no ignoring it.
Sunclaw backed up a few paces. “Ravenstep…what are you doing? I am the last of my kind, don’t do anything brash.”
“But as you said, I am more than one curse…so let me carry that burden for you!” I snarled, my paws flinging out to wrap around his neck.
In one quick motion, I ended him, his body going slack.
I am not a monster…
Destruction.
I have experienced the full thrust of it. It killed my clan mates, razed my camp to the ground, and erased my son’s name from my very soul.
It caused me to murder my kin.
You never want to be on the other side of a curse’s fury, or else, everything around you will burn in their wake.
What did you do, Shadowhunter? Was destruction the only answer?
Yes.