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Post by » ѕнαdσω ⚔️ on Sept 24, 2017 18:16:26 GMT -5
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Act I: The Portal in the Ice
“I know I’ve asked you to come here once before, but this is strange…even for you, Darkmoon.”
Darkmoon looked over her dark, smoky gray shoulder to face the leader of GlacierClan, Icestar, who stood a safe distance behind her. Her expression was puzzled, her brilliant gaze dimmed in the shadow of the active glacier towering before them.
The glacier was fed by freezing rain collected in the slopes of the Sister Mountain which carved itself a winding path all the way down to the steep side of the lonely lake. Here the glacier would calve itself into the water every so often. The glacier was an important source of survival for GlacierClan as an endless supply of water even during times of drought.
And, unbeknownst to most of the clan members, the glacier also harbored long forgotten secrets. Which was why Darkmoon was here.
“I know that it’s not…proper for me to come onto another clan’s territory anymore, but I had to see it again. I think I can decipher what the glyphs say this time around,” Darkmoon explained, turning her attention back to the glacier which groaned and creaked beneath its massive weight.
I really hope it doesn’t decide to calve today…, she thought to herself, frowning.
Icestar sighed, reluctantly taking a few more strides forward until she was standing next to the battle-scarred warrior.
“If PineClan saw you here with me, they would assume I have allied with you and then they would not only declare war on MountainClan, but on my clan as well. You knew this, and yet you came because you think you can read some long extinct language on a rock?” She hissed in disbelief.
Darkmoon let a tiny smirk slip through. “As you said, you once asked me here before PineClan and their leader Treestar became hostile towards my clan. You are just as curious about the language as I am.”
Icestar huffed, fluffing out her pale white coat. “You still haven’t answered why you’ve put my clan in danger for...our selfish curiosities.”
Darkmoon finally returned her eyes to Icestar’s tall, supple form and dropped the cap on her power so that the clan leader could finally see her true identity.
Flaming crimson eyes met icy blue for the first time, and Icestar took-rightly-a large step back, her claws unsheathing.
“You! That’s why you showed the cursed sympathy,” She exclaimed, realization dawning upon her.
“That is also why I will do everything in my power to learn about my kind, so that I can continue to help them, and prove to the rest of the clans that they are not as dangerous or evil as some have made them out to be,” she said, her voice firm and confident.
Icestar sheathed her claws, but did not come any nearer.
“You have kept your secret well,” she admitted admiringly. “How will you continue to do so once you-”
“Enough chat,” Darkmoon interrupted, shutting her eyes and reverting her irises back to the hunter’s moon yellow everyone but Cursed knew them to be. “Show me the entrance to the cave again, and then once I have finished what I have come here to do, I will leave and never speak of our encounter,” she promised.
“Fine,” Icestar said quickly, flicking her thick tail toward the base of the Sister Mountain. “I will lead you to the mouth of the cave, but no further. You will not return, got it?”
Darkmoon nodded, pleased with this leader’s negotiating abilities and willingness to let Darkmoon help her own kind.
Maybe she is truly neutral on the matter. Cursed or not Cursed, her enemies are anyone that harms her clan.
Darkmoon followed in the leader’s footsteps, feeling a small ripple flow down her spine at the irony of her path.
. . .
“Here it is. I’ll leave you to it then,” Icestar said, her voice echoing in the large space before them.
Darkmoon turned to the leader, a cloud of moisture leaving her muzzle. “Did you want me to give you information on what I learn? It’s only fair, given I’m an intruder on your territory.”
Icestar shrugged, her icy irises scouring the slick, shiny blue walls around them. “Do what you wish with the information. It doesn’t concern me.”
Haha. Liar.
Darkmoon dipped her head low. “Thank you.”
Briefly, Icestar smiled and even let out a small chuckle. “You won’t need to bow to me after tomorrow.”
Darkmoon did not raise her head. “Perhaps.”
A bit confused by her response, Icestar said a curt goodbye and left, leaving behind a sweet smelling aroma that filled the cave space.
Darkmoon sighed, raising her head and examining her surroundings.
Thankfully, the walls of the ice cave weren’t too terribly slick which meant less water splashing onto her coat, and less of a chance of there being an unstable ice wall or a calving event.
She could see her reflection on some of the cleaner surfaces, her body becoming elongated or stretched in peculiar ways. It was then that she switched her eyes back to the crimson color, and watched as blood filled irises blinked back at her in the ice.
She’s right to ask. How will I keep this hidden as a valley clan leader?
Turning away from her reflection, Darkmoon padded further inward, following the cold, wet dirt floor until the walls of the cave closed in around her. Soon the space narrowed into a passageway that led deeper into the center of the glacier where the glyph covered rock formation was buried.
It took her a solid half an hour of walking until she reached the next cavern. It wasn’t as large or as impressive as the initial cave entrance had been, but this was where-half buried in the dirt-a relic of Cursed history still stood.
Darkmoon had known right away that it was a portal. Similar glyphs and markings had been found on the portal at the overlook on MountainClan territory, which was a gateway to the Abyss, one of the seven realms that make up the afterlife. She had always wondered if other portals existed on other clan territories, but had never been given the chance to find out until recently.
Admittedly, she hadn’t told Icestar what the portal was, only that the glyphs on the rock were ancient, and probably from a time when there were more Cursed in the valley. The Cursed had been the ones to carve and place the portals. How to activate them though, was still a mystery.
Confidently, Darkmoon knew she could make her own portal out of any material she could find: sticks, mud, dirt, or even leaves. It wouldn’t be permanent, but it was good for a one time usage with only a one way direction.
A permanent portal though, like these dark stones, took more power. Power that Darkmoon simply didn’t have.
She sighed, once again taking in the sight of the fallen stone.
At one point in time it had been laid flat with a long face, but now the face was tilted vertically and it acted like a pillar beneath the ice. It was clear the glacier had been the one to move it from its original position, but Darkmoon had no way to tell how far the stone had moved, or when.
But glaciers don’t form overnight. Sure, it can recede and advance every year, but not by much. It would have taken decades, no, hundreds of years for this one rock to be moved.
So how long ago were Cursed here before normal cats? When did this glacier begin to grow? And why was this portal abandoned?
These were questions she had no way of answering, much to her frustration.
Quietly, she stepped forward and grazed her paw along the flat side, admiring the dark material that glittered ever so slightly under the blueish tinted light coming in through the ice.
Amazingly, when she walked to the other side, the side of the boulder that used to be on the earth was rough, gritty, and almost vesicular. The sparkle was intensified, and the stone was warped in such a way that it looked like an intense wind had blown it slightly off to the side.
Almost like it fell from the sky.
Darkmoon returned to the smooth side of the boulder where the glyphs were carved in a perfect circle on the rock. In the center of the ring of Cursed words was a carved picture of a giant four-winged beast with a long, barbed tipped tail, a long neck, hind legs, and a beak.
Darkmoon had no idea what this creature was, but her best guess, despite the enormity of the size of the carving, was a type of extinct bird.
She sniffed, sitting down and reading the glyphs one by one, determined to crack the meaning behind it.
She began with what she knew. Certain objects like sun, rock, river, and cat had their own unique symbols. At this point, she had memorized 50 unique symbols thanks to her talks with the other Cursed she had welcomed into MountainClan, so she began with those.
Sadly, not very many of the glyphs were these simple symbols with one word meanings. So far she had only gotten the words: earth, sky, mother, and time.
Frowning, she took a moment to dig through her memories. She drew some other symbols into the mud at the foot of the boulder, looking up as she did it to check if any of the glyphs were matching.
Her frown deepened.
One section of the glyphs is describing the passage of time…but time is not moving forward continuously as it should be…it’s in a loop that connects and stretches to other infinite loops.
And on the other side, it speaks of the Mother who commands over our loop of time.
And then below, the typical patterns of earth and sky are skewed. There is another symbol layered on top that means “faithless”.
“What in realms name is this thing?” Darkmoon hissed, looking up at the final two sections of glyphs that she could not decipher.
She tried combining the glyphs she knew to match the ones on the rock that were unidentifiable, and began to form a clearer and clearer message.
This is not a portal to any of the seven realms.
Finally, she stood, and spoke the entire ring of words out loud.
“As time flourishes and life lies suspended upon its back, all must witness the collapse of the great domain upon the land. This realm will reach out into the infinite loops of time and break free of the Mother’s clutches to once again be reunited with Earth and Sky. With faith you have become blind, and to faithlessness you must return to be welcomed into the realms eternal…,” Darkmoon paused, her eyes widening.
It’s a phrase to activate the portal. I can simply say the same phrase to come back from the other side. I need to find out where this will take me!
“With this knowledge, I, Darkmoon, with the curse of death, approach you, Queen of the Endless Sands and Destroyer of Realms, to give me passage into the realms eternal!”
A sound like claws being scratched over slate ringed in Darkmoon’s ears, and a loud boom echoed throughout the cave, causing the ground and the air itself to shudder. The dark, glittering rock began to sparkle and glow until the tiny micro-crystals became giant gems that blinded Darkmoon, forcing her to close her eyes as the sound of shrieking lightning filled all her senses.
Then, a punishing scent of lavender slammed into her nostrils.
She gasped, choked, and then coughed, finding she was rolling down a slope into a miniature valley filled with tall stalks of lavender flowers. Above her head, unfamiliar trees branched out, but they left a large enough gap in the canopy to see a nearly full moon in a night-time sky.
I don’t recognize the stars, Darkmoon thought, alarmed.
But the night was beginning to fade, and the moon was on its way out, given the slightly lighter hue to the sky, signaling the arrival of the sun. The air was not heavy with the scent of pines like in the Valley, though there did appear to be some pine in the distance. Darkmoon did not know the name of these other trees, though they reminded her of thicker, slightly darker versions of birch trees.
Then, she felt something wet beneath her belly. Confused, she slowly stood, and nearly had a panic attack when she saw the fresh blood dripping from her charcoal pelt.
What? Whose blood is this?
A burst of wind rattled through the lavender stalks and parted some of the longer stems on the other slope ahead of her. Through them, she spotted a pair of striking yellow eyes staring at her.
So intense, but not cursed eyes. There is no flame in them.
She narrowed her cursed gaze at the pair of normal feline irises, letting her cursed power out and get a grip of her surroundings.
From that, she could tell that the cat was a tom, and that he was most certainly not cursed, but a certain energy emitted itself from his soul. A kind of energy Darkmoon has seen on cats just after they have made a kill.
She nearly called out, that is, until her tail bumped into a still body.
Looking behind her, she saw a young, brown tabby she-cat, probably the same age as a typical apprentice, with a fresh wound cutting from her chin and all the way down her belly and in between her hind legs.
A butchering…
Darkmoon’s crimson eyes slid to the apprentice’s eyes, which were barely open and blinking rapidly. She was in shock from the amount of blood she was losing. In the moonlight, she saw that her eyes were a soft hazel.
“He…he’s still here,” the young she-cat whispered, raising her paw weakly, trying to shove Darkmoon away. “Le-leave!”
Darkmoon switched her gaze back to the yellow eyes she had seen in the lavender stalks, but they were already gone.
Darkmoon growled, un-sheathing her claws into the crushed petals around her.
Great. Now he could be anywhere.
“Don’t worry, he won’t be able to kill me,” she assured the tabby, crouching down protectively over her body.
But when Darkmoon turned her eyes back to the she-cat, her eyes were closed, and she was dead.
Darkmoon sighed, shutting her eyes and bowing her head.
“Dammit, damn this all!” she hissed, hating this situation she’d gotten herself into.
Carefully, after making sure no one else was lurking in the shadows, Darkmoon positions the apprentice into a more peaceful position, spreading her legs out before her and laying her tail over her hind leg. From the other direction, it would look like she was sleeping.
Sounds of two cats over the crest of the hill begin to echo in the clearing, and Darkmoon cursed to herself, turning and running away from the scene, knowing all too well how it would look to see a stranger covered in another cats blood.
She hid in the same spot that the yellow-eyed tom had, taking a few moments to try and catch his scent, but the flowers overwhelmed any evidence he might have left behind.
A clever butcherer. This poor she-cat probably had no chance. She was dead the moment he laid eyes on her.
Two silver tabby she-cats come walking down the hill, spotting the already dead tabby she-cat. It seemed at first they thought she was sleeping, but one of them, the one with green eyes and a lighter coat, realized that the tabby was not sleeping, and begins wailing.
“No! Please no, please no,” she cried, running to the side where she can clearly see the long slicing gash. She then buried her nose into the tabby she-cat’s neck fur, her silver-gray tabby companion letting her lean on her for support.
You can help them, Darkmoon. You can bring the tabby back. It would be easy with how recently she just died.
Easy? Nothing about bringing someone back from the dead is easy! And what about the two living she-cats? The minute they see me, I'm dead.
But you are cursed. They can't fight you, and you know it.
I've promised myself I will never harm another innocent cat with my flame.
Not even to save a life?
Darkmoon bit down on her tongue, flipping through the pros and cons of bringing the tabby back to life. Realistically, she does not know these cats, and meddling with their lives could bring more harm than good.
But this scene; the hopelessness of the green-eyed she-cat, and the young, innocent life she is seeing cold and lifeless…it reminded Darkmoon of her own loss.
Moonpaw would want me to save her and make these cats happy again.
What am I going to do?
- - -
Act II: When the Dead Rise
Forget this, I’m going down there.
Making up her mind hadn’t taken long. The memory of Moonpaw’s demise still weighed heavy on her heart, even though many moons have passed since the accident. For all Darkmoon knew, her entering this realm had killed the young tabby she-cat by drawing attention to the area. Portals were strange anomalies in the Realm of the Living, and Darkmoon had seen her fair share of the consequences that followed the activation of a portal. It was how Moonpaw had died.
Slowly, Darkmoon stood, preparing herself for whatever reaction she was about to get from the two grieving she-cats. Instinct still told her to do something about the blood coating her belly and paws, but wiping them on the lavenders seemed pointless now. Lying about her involvement would eventually just lead to more conflict.
Not wanting to surprise them, she made sure to rattle the flowering stems as she padded down the gentle slope, the moon still casting its silver glow upon her smoky fur.
Wait, my eyes. I should hide those at least.
Darkmoon pulled the invisible cap over her eyes, but after checking the glow against her paw pad, she realized that her eyes were still red, and glowing very, very brightly.
What is going on? Is it because I’m in a different realm?
This should only happen in a plane of the afterlife. But clearly these cats aren’t valley residents…the scent is all wrong, and their body types and coats show nothing of living in a cold, harsh environment.
Sighing internally, she continued walking towards them, praying to whatever deity could hear her that they would not instantly run when they saw her bloody eyes.
It was the pale grey she-cat with the fainter tabby stripes and green eyes that turned first. It was a rapid turn, as if she had been preparing herself to encounter someone else in the area. It would make sense, given that the younger she-cat had died recently.
But it was not shock, disgust, or fear that shone in those perfectly rounded eyes. It was fury, a fury that made Darkmoon halt her advance.
The other she-cat turned as well, her reaction being a bit more natural with her pupils widening and the fur along her spine lifting.
“Who are-?” She began, taking a slight step backwards.
But it was the screech of bloodlust from the green-eyed she-cat that halted any and all possible communications. Her claws glinted in the moonlight as she dashed towards Darkmoon, murder in her eyes.
“I’ll kill you!” She snarled, clearly blind in her grief and rage as she swung at Darkmoon’s face.
It was easy enough to dodge the first blow, but the second came even faster, a tactic Darkmoon herself had taught her apprentice in the past.
She couldn’t help but admire the she-cat as she drove Darkmoon back, getting off clean strikes but never landing them. Some were a bit wide and wobbly, but given her current emotional state, Darkmoon couldn’t blame her.
Darkmoon continued to evade her attacker with ease, prompting the she-cat to become even more angry and furious. It got to a point where Darkmoon’s rear end was pushed up against a tree trunk, and the look in the she-cat’s eyes said she had cornered her and was now going to end her life.
Darkmoon grunted, hating herself for what she had to do.
Quickly, she squirmed and turned in place, digging her claws into the bark of the tree and swarming up its trunk, eliciting a surprised hiss from the green-eyed she-cat who watched her now with wider eyes.
“Get back here you coward!” She spat.
Keeping up her pace, Darkmoon launched herself from higher up the trunk and landed just behind the she-cat, and in one swift turn she now faced her.
“Sorry,” Darkmoon hissed, now using her cursed power to ignite her right paw.
“What the-”
Quickly, Darkmoon smacked the side of the she-cat’s skull with her ignited paw, and then watched her go flying sideways a good fox-length or two before sliding down into the flower bed.
“Stonetail!” The other she-cat cried, her eyes filling with horror as Darkmoon now faced her.
“I didn’t want to hurt either of you, but I had to knock your friend out so that we could talk,” Darkmoon explained, not moving from her spot near the tree.
The silver tabby she-cat hissed. “Who in StarClan’s name are you?”
Darkmoon doused her red flame around her paw, shaking it out to relax the muscles she had used.
“My name is Darkmoon, I am the…”
She said StarClan. They must be members of one of the four clans from a different time. But should I tell her my status as a future leader?
“I am a warrior of MountainClan.”
Her brow furrowed, confusion crawling across the plains of her face. “There is no MountainClan,” she said, her tail tip twitching.
Oh…
Darkmoon had to pick at strings now. “What clan do you hail from?”
“ShadeClan, which is the territory that you are on right now,” she said, her voice now hardening.
Darkmoon looked around, shock enveloping her.
Where am I?
Darkmoon laughed half-heartedly. “I must have gotten lost!”
The she-cat growled. “Look, I don’t know if your some flesh bound Dark Forest cat, or just a confused kitty-pet, but the blood on your fur belongs to Thrushpaw, the medicine cat apprentice of our clan. You must answer to our leader, Graystar, if you want to leave our territory.”
“I didn’t kill her,” Darkmoon replied, nodding to the body of Thrushpaw. “I arrived just before she died. There was a tom hiding in the lavender stalks over on that ride. He had yellow eyes.”
The she-cat’s eyes looked up to the ridge she had mentioned, then behind her to Thrushpaw, and then back to Darkmoon.
“Explain yourself to Graystar, Darkmoon,” she said finally, carefully walking up to her.
A loud frustrated hiss followed by a groan echoed in the clearing. The other she-cat, Stonetail, was already conscious.
Darkmoon’s brow raised on one side. “She’s tough,” she remarked.
The silver tabby paused her advance, looking Darkmoon in the eyes.
“That is Stonetail. She never backs down easy,” she growled, almost glaring as Stonetail came into view once more, blood trickling over one eye.
“You…what are you?” She gasped out, her green eyes filled with a different fire. A fire of instinct.
The silver tabby spoke up. “Her name is Darkmoon. She claims to not have killed Thrushpaw, and she says she saw another cat here, a tom with yellow eyes. I was going to take her back to Graystar to let her explain herself.”
Stonetail growled. “I don’t care, Streamheart. She’s got her blood all over her. That’s a good enough reason for me to kill her right here and now.”
Streamheart’s gaze softened. “Killing her won’t help Thrushpaw.”
“You can try,” Darkmoon said to Stonetail, flexing her claws. “But I wouldn’t waste your time. There are better things that we can be doing to help Thrushpaw.”
“Help her?” Stonetail hissed, outrage clear in her eyes. “She’s been butchered! There is nothing-”
“I can bring her back,” Darkmoon snapped, moving her glowing red eyes from Stonetail to the still body of Thrushpaw behind them.
Silence followed with both Streamheart and Stonetail giving her blank stares.
Then, Stonetail began to laugh.
Streamheart gave her companion a warry look, wondering if her friend had lost it.
“You’re kidding me right? A cat with red flames coming out of her skin with fiery red eyes, massive strength and the ability to bring the dead back to life?” She paused to laugh again, her blood dripping onto the flowers around her. “This has got to be a nightmare. Some really sick, completely un-called for nightmare.”
Darkmoon sighed, moving forward towards Thrushpaw’s body.
Neither of them stopped her, though she fully expected them too. They must have been in too much shock and confusion to care anymore about what she did.
Lying flat on her stomach, Darkmoon laid her front paws over Thrushpaw’s head, and then she bowed her own head over hers, touching her nose to her now chilly flesh.
“Death,” she whispered, feeling her flame rush forth and envelop her.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Stonetail yelled, marching toward her only to have Streamheart hold her back.
“Let’s just see what happens,” she urged her, her eyes entranced by the red flame rising and dancing around Darkmoon and now Thrushpaw.
“If she burns her body then there won’t be any evidence to give to Graystar you mouse-brain!” Stonetail hissed at Streamheart, trying to shove her out of the way.
“But look,” Streamheart insisted, pointing with her tail. “The flames aren’t burning her!”
Stonetail fell silent as Darkmoon worked, pushing her flames into Thrushpaw’s body, feeling out her hollowed husk and looking for the place that housed her soul.
The soul was housed in different parts of the body for non-cursed, but Cursed always had their soul housed just behind their eyes. It was like a center of power for the soul to reside, and it was where Darkmoon could most easily tug it back into its former home.
Just as she had predicted, finding and dragging Thrushpaw’s soul back to her body was easy. Her body was chilled, but not cold, with blood still running through her veins. The soul was all too eager to plunge back into the brown tabby’s body, and once it was entangled in its spot in the apprentices stomach, it only took another minute or two before Thrushpaw took her first breath.
“She…she did it!” Streamheart gasped, her jaw nearly dislocating itself from her shock as she watched Thrushpaw’s chest begin to steadily rise and fall.
Stonetail was silent, but her eyes were fixed on the apprentice’s stirring form. Slowly, she stepped forward, and inch by inch, made her way to the wall of flame surrounding Thrushpaw.
She looked at Darkmoon. “Can I…?”
Darkmoon nodded. “The flames won’t burn you, but be gentle. She’s still transitioning.”
Stonetail nodded, probably not knowing anything that Darkmoon was talking about, but she clearly didn’t care either way, because the pure relief and happiness in her eyes shined like a star in the night as she stepped into the flames and touched Thrushpaw’s flank with her nose, watching as the long, unforgiving wound began to stitch itself back together.
“Hey there, Thrushpaw,” she murmured, letting out a few gasps of laughter as Thrushpaw’s eyes began to flicker open.
“St-Stonetail?” She groaned, looking bewildered.
Darkmoon smiled, watching the two interact. Warmth spread all over her and then dashed inside of Thrushpaw’s body, helping to raise her body temperature.
“I…I was dead,” she croaked, looking around her, her eyes slowly widening as she took note of the red flames around her.
Stonetail smiled. “Yeah, you were. But this strange fire cat came and saved you.”
“Fire cat?” Thrushpaw asked, looking up at Stonetail as if she had grown an extra head.
“We will get to that later,” Darkmoon assured the two, slowly dimming the flames until they were doused once more.
Thrushpaw leaned her head back to see Darkmoon, and her eyes widened in recognition.
“You…I told you to leave,” she said, her voice hoarse and scratchy. Her voice would soon come back normally, but it would take a good few hours before it was completely healed.
“I told you he couldn’t kill me,” Darkmoon said with a smile. “And I couldn’t leave such a brave cat behind to be buried in the ground without giving her a second chance.”
Thrushpaw grinned from ear to ear, relief coursing through her. “I’m alive…,” she whispered in wonder.
“You’re alive!” Streamheart echoed, walking up to her and touching her nose to her forehead.
Stonetail nodded her head to Darkmoon, her eyes now wary, but filled with gratitude. “Thank you…Darkmoon,” she said solemnly.
Darkmoon dipped her head in return. “You are most welcome…does this mean I don’t have to go see your leader?” She joked.
Stonetail smirked. “I think this is even more of a reason to take you to our camp.”
Thrushpaw’s eyes then widened like moons. “Wait!” She croaked, “Can’t she bring back my brother too?”
All three cats shifted their eyes to Darkmoon, who sighed internally once more. She knew this was a mistake.
“Maybe,” Darkmoon said, her voice stern. “But I can’t be bringing back every dead cat that I see. How long has he been deceased?”
“Less than a day,” Stonetail replied, reaching down to help Thrushpaw stand.
Don’t do it, Darkmoon. You got to get back to your clan. Who knows how long you may have been gone already?
“Alright. Then take me to him,” she meowed.
You soft-hearted fool.
Thrushpaw’s smile brightened, and she looked up at Stonetail and Streamheart with excitement in her eyes.
“Is the red in her eyes going to go away?” Stonetail spoke up as Thrushpaw finally stood on semi-stable legs.
Darkmoon nodded. “She’s technically still a corpse, my power is just animating her until her body can heal.”
Thrushpaw gulped, her eyes filling with fear. “That’s terrifying to think about.”
Darkmoon laid her tail along the young she-cats shoulders. “Just move carefully and eat and drink as much as you can. It will help,” she told her.
Thrushpaw nodded, looking down at her paws as she began to walk away from the crushed flowers and blood stained petals, making sure to keep her stomach away from tall, sharp stalks.
Darkmoon slowly followed, taking note of how Streamheart and Stonetail walked on either side of her, boxing her in. They knew she had just helped them, but, understandably, they didn’t know the full extent of her power. For all they knew, Darkmoon could have just brought Thrushpaw back only to kill her again. Or something even worse.
I just hope I can remain on their good side. A Cursed can burn tens of cats if they wanted, but a whole clan with fighters just as skilled as or more so than Stonetail?
Basically, I’m a tiny flame on a stem about to be blown out.
“Welcome to ShadeClan, Darkmoon.”
- - -
Act III: The Reality of Power
It was a normal camp. Dens were situated around the outside near the walls with an entrance well-guarded and protected by a hollowed out log. The clan seemed well structured. A dawn patrol was being formed, prey was being distributed, and apprentices were rising for their daily duties. It was peaceful…if you didn’t count the dead body in the middle of the clearing.
Sitting around the body were two cats; a mottled golden queen and a brown tabby tom with a white underbelly. With the way their heads were bent, and the reluctance they showed at joining the normal pace of the camp, they must be the parents.
“Fath!-”
Darkmoon quickly slapped her tail over Thrushpaw’s mouth, making sure no one was looking at her as she did so. “Don’t be stupid. You must act like nothing happened. Plus your wound is still healing. Running over to them might re-open it.”
Thrushpaw frowned, but nodded. “Right. I forgot. Sorry.”
Stonetail smirked, looking down at the apprentice. “If only you would listen to me like that.”
Thrushpaw’s ears brightened in color. “Darkmoon is scarier…”
Good. She has normal blood circulation.
Streamheart laughed quietly. “I have to agree.”
Stonetail grunted, her smirk removed. “Let’s just get this over with. Darkmoon, I apologize if-”
“Who is this?” A thick-furred dark gray she-cat hissed, her fangs protruding from her lips. She had been standing next to the entrance, and only now noticed their little group coming in.
Darkmoon quickly lowered her gaze, cursing her strange eyes.
Streamheart answered, her voice calm and collected. “This is Darkmoon. We found her on our territory and are taking her to see Graystar. She has important information on the…illness that killed Thornpaw.”
Almost confident.
Darkfeather’s amber eyes narrowed, and they lowered to Darkmoon’s paws which were still stained in Thrushpaw’s blood.
“Did she kill someone?” She hissed, raising her eyes to glare at Darkmoon who still hides her eyes from the she-cat.
“We are taking her to Graystar,” Stonetail growled, clearly not wanting to deal with the she-cat. “Get out of the way.”
Streamheart shot Stonetail a glance, but she didn’t react. Instead Darkfeather snorted, taking a step back. “I hope you will teach this Darkmoon how to look at her hosts. It’s rude.”
Darkmoon smiled slightly, liking this she-cat’s attitude.
Streamheart nodded to the she-cat, flicking her tail and leading their group further into the camp.
“Go to your parents,” Stonetail told Thrushpaw gently. “Tell them everything will be fine now.”
Thrushpaw nodded, gently touching Stonetail’s shoulder with her nose and carefully padding over to the pair of grieving cats. They barely responded to her presence, as if nothing had happened to threaten their daughter’s life.
You both are lucky. You will never have to know the horror your daughter experienced.
“Where have you been?” A tom’s voice called from the warriors den.
Instinctively, Darkmoon turned, her eyes meeting ones of golden amber.
The body of a lean black tom halted, his angular face freezing as he saw Darkmoon’s bloody gaze. His expression only became more horrified and intrigued as he saw the blood staining her fur.
Stonetail quickly stepped between them, her gaze bearing down on the tom. “You saw nothing.”
His forehead scrunches, giving her a skeptical look. “I beg to differ.”
Darkmoon lowered her head once more, turning away from those haunted eyes.
He’s seen things. He didn’t react like Stonetail or Streamheart when he saw my eyes.
She hissed. “You-”
“Hey, Stonetail! Coal was worried about you. Where were you last night?” Another tom asked, coming up beside Coal. He was a more muscular tom with a ruddy, brown tabby coat and friendly, deep green eyes. When he saw Darkmoon, his eyes widened, and he took a slight step back.
Coal gave his brother a sideways stare through narrowed slits of his eyes.
They don’t have warrior names. What are they doing in a clan?
Stonetail sighed in annoyance. “I was out looking for Thrushpaw, to make sure she was safe.”
“And you just happened to come back with a foreign she-cat with blood red eyes?” Coal asked. He moved his eyes to Darkmoon, taking in every detail of the she-cats physical presence.
What does an outsider think of me, I wonder? Without knowing what I am?
“It seems I’m not the only foreign cat here,” Darkmoon said, deciding to lift her eyes back up to his. “You don’t belong here either.”
Coal opens his mouth, only to have the larger tom step in. “We’ve been here long enough to be accepted into the clan,” he said politely. “They have been very kind to us, whether or not we belong.” He meets her eyes head on, though Darkmoon can clearly see the movement of his jugular as he swallows.
Streamheart smiled in response to the tom’s words, and even Stonetail let a gleam slip into her gaze.
These four have a bond. However small.
Darkmoon dipped her head, hiding her eyes as more cats began to notice the strange cat in their midst. “Good,” she said simply.
“Come, before we get stopped again,” Stonetail meowed, ushering them onward to the leader’s den.
“Why did you bring her?” Coal asked Stonetail, following her and Streamheart as they escorted Darkmoon into the rocky den.
“It’s complicated…,” Stonetail responds hesitantly, sliding her green gaze over to Darkmoon’s shadowed form as they go under the ceiling of the den.
All three of the ShadeClan cats paused to stare as Darkmoon’s eyes lit up the inside of the den in a bright, crimson glow. Each of their eyes reflected the light, making their irises have a red tint.
Darkmoon almost wanted to laugh at the spectacle.
“What in StarClan’s name?”
A tall, prim white she-cat with similar green eyes to Stonetail came out from the back of the den, followed by another she-cat who had an air of static lightning around her which completely stole Darkmoon’s attention.
It was the white she-cat who had spoken, and her expression was narrowed in suspicion.
Stonetail flicked her tail to Darkmoon. “Featherstar, we found this she-cat on ShadeClan territory. She can help Thornpaw.”
Coal frowned. “How? He’s dead.”
Stonetail looked at him. “I know. This is going to sound very strange…but this she-cat has special abilities.”
Streamheart nodded, backing her up. “Yes. We saw it. She brought Thrushpaw back to life, and she says she can do the same to-”
“Stonetail!”
A loud, angry male voice echoed in the camp, and a shadow filled the entrance to the den. It was the tabby tom, the father of Thrushpaw and the fallen Thornpaw. Next to him was a frightened Thrushpaw, her glowing red eyes blinking rapidly.
Mouse-dung. I didn’t think about that!
Stonetail froze, her tail bristling. “Grasspelt? What’s wrong?”
He shoved his daughter forward in a careful manner, flicking his tail to her colored irises. “This is what is wrong! Plus she’s spewing some nonsense about that blood covered she-cat you brought into our camp! Did she infect my daughter with some illness? Have you brought plague to our home?”
No, she has brought death to your home, Grasspelt.
Darkmoon stepped forward, knowing only she could calm the situation. “Your daughter was killed. I found her and managed to bring her back to life. Look at her stomach if you don’t believe me.”
Grasspelt snarled, his pelt bristling. “Crazy she-cat! What have you done to my daughter?”
He’s not in a right state of mind. Just as Stonetail was when she found Thrushpaw.
Then, that crackling presence walked in between them, going up to Thrushpaw. Her gray speckled tabby pelt was lying flat on her body despite the tension.
“Please show us your stomach, Thrushpaw,” she asked calmly.
Thrushpaw lied on the ground, and then rolled over.
Grasspelt gasped, his amber eyes widening past physical normalness. Even Featherstar hissed.
The wound that had killed the apprentice was now nothing more than a long, angry red line from her chin to her tail. Darkmoon smiled internally, appreciating her work.
I managed to save a life. This drama is all worth it.
The she-cat who had asked Thrushpaw to roll over was clearly Graystar, for when she spoke, everyone in the den listened intently. “There is no possible way she could survive an injury like that. Clearly there is some merit to what Stonetail and Streamheart are telling us.”
“How…how did you get that scar?” Coal asked, his eyes flickering with horror.
Before Thrushpaw could answer, Darkmoon stepped in. “You recognize that scar, don’t you? I saw a yellow-eyed gray tom leave the scene. I believe it was he who cut down Thrushpaw. Do yellow eyes and a gray coat mean anything to you?”
Coal gulped. “Yes…yes it means a lot to me.”
Graystar looked around at the cats in her den and growled. “Everyone but Featherstar, Stonetail and Coal get out. We need to speak privately. Streamheart…introduce this she-cat to Thornpaw. Make sure she doesn’t leave.”
“Yes, Graystar.”
Darkmoon was escorted out, her glowing red eyes dimming once she was back under the sunlight. More cats had appeared in the camp, many more than Darkmoon was expecting.
“Featherstar…is some of her clan here?” Darkmoon asked Streamheart who paused to look around at the cats with Darkmoon.
“Half of WillowClan is with her. They were chased off their territory from a fire. We lost a good number of cats,” she meowed quietly.
Darkmoon sighed, once again feeling a heavy weight press down on her heart. There was nothing she could do for burnt cats.
“I’m sorry,” Darkmoon said. “For what it’s worth.”
Streamheart blinked at the strange she-cat, dipping her head ever so slightly to her. “It’s worth something.”
Darkmoon then walked toward Thornpaw, ignoring the whispers and frightened glances aimed at her. She needed to become accustomed to it if she was ever going to reveal her true identity to the valley clans.
Thornpaw’s mother stood and backed away, joining Thrushpaw and Grasspelt who stood behind Darkmoon. Together, they watched as the red-eyed she-cat lied down beside the corpse of their kin.
I have more of an audience now…hopefully I can concentrate.
Darkmoon exchanged a glance with Streamheart, who gave her a nod of approval. Shutting her eyes, Darkmoon turned away and exhaled, a small shrieking sound announcing the presence of her flames bursting out of her skin.
Shocked gasps and a few screams echoed in the camp. Some cats stayed put and un-sheathed their claws, while others quickly backed away, hiding in any way they could.
“Don’t be afraid!” Streamheart called to them. “It won’t burn you!”
Darkmoon grimaced, her fire slowly seeping into Thornpaw’s flesh. It was much colder than Thrushpaw’s was, and there was no eager soul hanging around hoping to be reunited with its host body. It had accepted its fate.
Come back. I can help you.
Darkmoon searched for the main area that the soul used to sit in, finding it at the base of the apprentice’s tail. Using her flame, she focused her heat there, and created an inviting vessel for the soul to return to.
She could feel it, squirming back down from whatever realm it had gone to. Yet, it had a certain glow about it that had Darkmoon immediately on edge. It didn’t seem right.
Souls shouldn’t have such a sickly glow to them…they are bright, like stars.
Before she could figure out why, the soul was already racing down towards the body, smacking itself into the area Darkmoon had warmed for it. By instinct, Darkmoon began to form connections between soul and body.
Certain connections though, weren’t clicking.
Darkmoon opened her eyes. “Streamheart.”
Streamheart cautiously approached, coming up to Darkmoon’s side. The red flames were smaller than before, but the heat was still enough to make Streamheart sweat.
“What’s wrong?” She hissed.
Darkmoon’s eyes flickered back and forth over Thornpaw’s body, still trying to frantically make the connections meet. “You said Thornpaw died because of an illness?”
Streamheart nodded, looking confused. “Yes…is that a problem?”
Darkmoon growled, shoving her fire deeper into the apprentices flesh. “Yes. It’s a huge problem. The virus hasn’t left his body yet.”
Streamheart tilted her head, her eyes widening. “You can’t cure it?”
Darkmoon growled. “Do I look like a walking cure to you?”
Streamheart shrugged. “Kind of?”
Darkmoon sighed. “Bring his family over to me. I need to speak with them.”
Streamheart still looked confused, but obeyed, signaling for the family to approach.
Thrushpaw walked quickly up to Darkmoon’s side, pressing her side into hers. “He’s coming back, right, Darkmoon?”
Darkmoon looked down at the young apprentice, reminded once again of Moonpaw.
I can’t save everyone, can I?
“The illness he died from is still in him,” Darkmoon told her gently. “I can make his body and soul whole again, but I don’t know if he will survive for long. He will need herbal treatment immediately…do you and your family want to take the risk of bringing him back, even if he may suffer all over again?”
Thrushpaw’s mother, who was heavily pregnant, sobbed. “You mean he may still die?”
Darkmoon nodded, turning her eyes away as the mother wailed, burying her muzzle into her mate’s shoulder.
“No! He won’t die. I can save him,” Thrushpaw meowed with determination. “Robinfoot and I can heal him! Just bring him back…please!”
Darkmoon ignored the apprentice, waiting for Grasspelt to say his thoughts.
Thrushpaw looked to her father, her hazel eyes pleading and filling with tears. “Please! Please, you have to!”
Grasspelt sighed heavily, his gaze roving over his son’s body, his irises reflecting the red flame around them.
“My daughter was butchered, and yet you brought her back to life. My son is dead, and here you are, offering to bring him back as well…,” Grasspelt hesitated, but his eyes were now glued to Darkmoon. “I don’t know if you are sent to us from StarClan or the Dark Forest, but if you can bring Thornpaw back, then do it.”
Thrushpaw sighed in relief, and Darkmoon nodded, returning to her task and making the final ties between soul and body.
“I’ll go get Robinfoot. We need to prepare,” Thrushpaw said eagerly, turning and walking at a furious pace toward the medicine den.
Then, Thornpaw breathed in.
“Thornpaw! He’s-he is awake!” Grasspelt nearly shouted, his pelt standing on end.
Thornpaw’s mother leaned over him and began grooming his ears, her purrs growing louder as Thornpaw began to groan and open his eyes.
Darkmoon smiled. “You were doubting my power,” she said to Grasspelt.
Grasspelt shook his head, not in denial but in disbelief. “Well, yes, I-I couldn’t believe my ears nor my eyes at first, but I see what you are capable of now. Thank you, Darkmoon. You have saved my family. I will never forget your kindness here today.”
Darkmoon stood and bowed before Thornpaw’s father. “No need for thanks.”
Darkmoon slowly backed away as the rest of the clan came to inspect the now very alive Thornpaw who looked around with much confusion. Thrushpaw came back with a bundle of herbs and began to pester him, making sure he ate the entire pile.
Probably strengthening herbs so that he can be given more potent herbs later. She’s smart. I hope she knows that she can take those same herbs now too. It will help her focus.
“You said you were from MountainClan…do all cats in your clan have the same power as you?” Streamheart asked, her ears twitching.
Darkmoon almost wanted to laugh at the prospect of an entire clan made up of cursed cats with the power over death, but Darkmoon swallowed it, not wanting to offend Streamheart. “No, I am the last one of my kind.”
Steamheart’s eyes widened. “The last? What happened to the others?”
Darkmoon lowered her eyes to the ground. “My kind are called Cursed…for good reason.”
Streamheart looked up at the gathered clans, looking thoughtful. “Cursed…what a horrible name for someone so willing to help out complete strangers.”
Darkmoon smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. “There are other Cursed with different powers from mine. I have gathered as many as I can under the protection of MountainClan. The rest of the clans…they don’t trust us.”
Streamheart shook her head. “I guess I can see why, given your obvious strength…but with gifts such as yours, you should be much too valuable to be shunned from your own clans.”
“I have a feeling my four clans are much more unforgiving than yours,” Darkmoon said, humor staining her voice.
Streamheart laughed. “Perhaps.”
Darkmoon laughed darkly then, causing Streamheart to look at her with a wary look. “What is it?”
Darkmoon shrugged. “I’ve realized…how differently power represents itself in different situations. During times of war, Cursed were exploited favored for their immense control over fire and physical strength. During times of peace, Cursed were feared for their inability to control their powers and the thought of that power being used against innocent cats…but how can I change the situation back home to make it more like this one in ShadeClan? Do I have to start a war? Murder some cats and blame it on someone else? Set fire to the forests and starve the other clans?”
Streamheart cleared her throat. “I’m sure you could do all of those things and more…but what about a solution not involving genocide?”
Stonetail emerged from the leaders den then, looking very angry and upset, storming her way past the crowd around Thornpaw. Coal followed slowly behind, but he looked more tired, as if a giant weight had just been lifted off of his shoulders.
Streamheart immediately stood. “Stonetail-?”
“Not now, Streamheart,” Stonetail replied as she stalked past her and Darkmoon, shouldering through the camp exit.
What happened there?
“Just let her be,” Coal said, his expression revealing nothing as he came to stand before the two she-cats.
“What did Graystar say?” Streamheart asked, her eyes full of curiosity.
Coal didn’t reply immediately, instead he stared at Darkmoon, his eyes narrowed in thought. “Graystar wishes for you to stay in our camp,” he said then, not answering Streamheart’s question.
“Am I allowed to leave, or am I a prisoner?” Darkmoon asked.
Coal’s eyes darkened. “She wants to use your power to protect the clan, so you are not permitted to leave.”
Streamheart hissed. “She has no right to do that! Darkmoon just saved two of her cats lives, she should be grateful and let Darkmoon leave.”
Darkmoon shook her head, immediately understanding her situation. “No, she has every right to hold me here. She just stumbled upon a way to make her warriors immune to death. If you were leader, would you let that power go so easily?”
Streamheart sighed in frustration. “Yes, I see your point, but it’s still not right.”
“There is no right or wrong when it comes to being a clan leader. There is only the clan and whatever stands against it,” Darkmoon said coldly. She looked from Streamheart to Coal, and then asked, “Where am I being kept?”
“Same place that me and my brother were kept when we first came,” Coal replied, twitching his tail in the direction of the make-shift den. “She’s ordered Stonetail and you, Streamheart, to guard her at all times.”
Streamheart glowered. “Of course.”
In peace and war times, Cursed will be exploited, Darkmoon thought to herself as she was led away. Kill as many normal cats as you’d like, but the valley clans will fight over the cursed like a pack of wolves fighting over a corpse in order to always have the upper hand.
And I have most of the Cursed in my clan now…we will be the primary target for any of the other clans to come after.
Is there no way to get the clans to trust Cursed? Are we just doomed to be powerless for the rest of our existence?
Is this the reality of the power we were given?
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by Twilightsparkle?!!
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