WispClan - The Guardians of the Coast - Dead, Don't Post

PROLOGUE

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A most enchanting silver glow from the waning gibbous hung over the woods, emphasizing the chilly atmosphere that rasped over the land like the tongue from a nurturing mother onto the back fur of her kit, but stroking the wrong direction. The air was still and cloaked in a thick gray veil turned silver by the height of the moon, emanating from the vast waters beyond the territories along its second half, shrouding everything it could touch. The hooting of an owl somewhere in the heart of the scraggly forest was one of the few sounds that broke the silence that hung over the region has heavy as the mist itself.

From the rocky perch looming high over the camp below, an elderly gray she-cat, her age of which was betrayed by the white fur on her muzzle, sat on her haunches, blending into the background like she was made of stone herself. Her gaze was pointed high, observing the heavens above. Some of the countless shimmering lights appeared to glow warmer than the rest, and even moved, gently dancing across the sky, hundreds of them, but these were not stars - fireflies gathered here after each dusk. Why here, that was not known, but here they were, like every night without fail. The she-cat found comfort in this fact. They were like the Gold-eye and Silver-eye themselves in that respect - they would always be here right on schedule, without change.

A new scent wafted up the elder's nose, mixing in with the smells of birch and oak, and the breeze carried over from the Sun-drown-place. Sweeter than the rest, but familiar all the same, she turned her head almost past her right shoulder to see the delicate shape of a small white she-cat approaching her.

"Silentsong." the gray molly meowed with courtesy.

The ghostly white she-cat dipped her head in respect as she continued her forward advance, ceasing her movement not two tail lengths in front of her superior. She waved her tail and performed a gesture with a forepaw in greeting.

"Juniperberry. You summoned me."

The gray she-cat nodded once. "Have you dreamt lately, Silentsong?"

Silentsong responded with further more gestures from her tail and forepaws.

"Yes, I have. It was home, that much was certain, but nothing was recognizable to me. I felt isolated, but I sensed I was not alone. My Elders were with me the whole time, although I could not see them, including yourself."

"No spirit guided you?" Juniperberry inquired. The white she-cat shook her head in denial. Juniperberry's eyes widened with interest at this revelation. The spirits always walked side to side with Silentsong, matching her pawstep for pawstep by her side, according to her. Her connection to the deceased was far stronger than any Mender had come before within recent memory. "We must discuss this with the others. All our sleeps were troubled this night. Follow." she meowed bluntly, pulling ahead, expecting the younger she-cat to trail behind her, an assumption she was correct in.

The arching entranceway opened up to a great antechamber. Silentsong was surprised by the sudden change in temperature as she entered the cavernous dome - an unusual level of internal heat and humidity remained trapped inside. Adding to the atmosphere were bulky colonies of fiery orange mushrooms that were plastered all over the length of the walls, some even inhabiting the ceiling, producing a toasty glow. Silentsong's intrigue was never dampened now matter how many times she visited this sacred place, the Elder's Den, in spite of the fact her visits were very few and far between.

Ahead of the pair was a gathering of Elders, chatting like starlings with hushed voices, muttering to each other with a moderate degree of urgency. Many turned to face the approaching pair.

"Juniperberry, you have brought the Mender." one of them croaked.

"Regardless of our summons from our Mediator, I suspect her presence would have found its way here regardless. Her mind too has been troubled, in this world and in the realm of visions." Juniperberry replied.

Silentsong took her place beside Juniperberry - the Elder she was closest to, to the point she might have even called her a friend - and held her head high at the others, not out of ego, but because most cats, them included, towered over her like lions or tigers. After what seemed like an eternity, at long last one of their voices echoed throughout the room.

"Mender, what did the spirits show you?"

Mender. That is how she was designated by virtually all who were higher ranking to her. At least Juniperberry identified her by her real name, all the more reason why she personally preferred her above the rest, no disrespect intended. She was wiser too, she often concluded. She had never seen her bicker, lose her cool, or jump to conclusions as quickly as the rest of her denmates, if really at all. There were countless times she had sowed the seeds of chaos back to order, almost acting like a Mediator herself - that was something else she admired about her. When she talked, the room fell silent and everyone treated her words with the utmost respect. Some level of bitterness lingered within the petite she-cat from way back in her Noviceship, emerging in the form of a tinge of envy towards Juniperberry's stature. Silentsong herself had never been taken seriously until well deep into her training to becoming the next Mender of WispClan, and to this day, she had reason to believe not all of her Clanmates had granted her their utmost faith and respect.

I'm sure they'd feel different if they came to me with a broken leg and granted me their time of day for me to work my wonders.

Silentsong responded with her traditional form of communication - a form of sign language that many of her Clan, although not all, had been required to master the understanding of. Such a feat had not been achieved overnight however - she swore the more youthful cats were as stubborn as their seniors.

"The spirits did not walk with me tonight," she communicated. The faces on the Elders reflected the shocked look that Juniperberry had displayed when she had revealed this information to her just before. "But I was not alone. Although no cat fell upon my senses, I was still protected," she clarified before carrying on. "I was at a shore, but it was not Cordial Cove. The sand was replaced with paw-sized water-weathered stones, while the sun-drown-place still stretched out to the edge of my horizon. The water was lapping back and forth at my paws for some time before it began to retreat. The tide was receding at an alarming rate. The pebbly shore was quickly replaced with sticky sand beneath my feet as I chased the waters as far as my breath could carry me.

That is all I remember."

The Elders conversed with themselves in response, their words barely distinguishable from each other.


"What does this mean?"

"I had a similar dream I think."

"This cannot be a coincidence."


One by one, once calm had finally settled upon the group, each Elder shared a their own dream, each one vastly different to the next. One spoke of leaves falling in the height of full-growth until the trees were bare, while another weaved together their vision of the river, the one that divided much of their territory from the untouched land beyond, as it split its course and ran elsewhere, while a third spoke of the stars and the inky blackness of the night sky flipping to be reversed with the endless blue abyss that was the sun-drown-place, and the tales kept on coming.

"Change must be coming. Great change!" one of the Elders spoke aloud with great anxiety. "Don't you see? The Wicked Times, like the Elders proposed back in the elder days. It was said that our Clan would be given its greatest test, a fire that would burn across the land and scorch all in its wake! Full-growth is approaching, preparations must be made!"

Silentsong turned to her side as she saw the ghostly gray figure of Juniperberry heave with disapproval, as if she dealt with matters such as this on a regular basis.

"We must not interpret the words of our ancestors quite so literally," she meowed. "They could not foresee the exact events generations past their time. They could only read the signs the spirits and the World chose to share with them and bestow that knowledge upon their successors. Our Clan has faced tribulations before, and we survived them. We shall survive this too."

"But what change will there be? Mender, are you sure the spirits did not whisper their wisdom to you? No prophecy was given, no omen could be interpreted?"

"Do you doubt the word of our Mender?" Juniperberry growled. "They speak with clarity. They cannot help that they cannot see what has yet to be shared with us."

"But surely the S-- He has seen something, has He not?" the Elder retorted.

"That is up to Him to disclose and when, and not a moment sooner, and do not speak His name with such disgrace. Be glad that you caught your tongue before you uttered His name without His presence. Have respect." Juniperberry barked back with an unusual amount of venom present in her words. In response, her denmate flattened their ears and shrunk back to fall in line with the others.

Silentsong prodded the she-cats shoulder with one paw, rousing her attention.

"But has He seen anything, Juniperberry?" she inquired harmlessly.

"We must have patience. Only the Risen knows."

"That isn't entirely correct. Time also knows." came a voice from the shadows. It was a lightly pitched, almost nasally voice, and one that almost sounded otherworldly, as if it were out of sync with itself. From one corner of the den, a mottled gray-and-white tom emerged, their large moonlit eyes glowing like silver orbs as they stepped out into the light. Their fur fluffed out like a lion's mane, but appeared to be as soft as cotton and a beautiful and as sleek as a kitten's pelt. With complete silence the strange cat padded forward further still. In response all of the Elders, excluding Juniperberry, backed away by several tail-lengths before their front ends almost collapsed to the ground as they performed a unanimous bow. With delay Juniperberry performed the same action, although her movement was far less exaggerated, and upon realizing Silentsong was seemingly staring into open space, she nudged the Mender with intent, who in response copied her gesture.

"Seer. You have come." Juniperberry meowed, a subtle purr forming in her throat.

"Time has eyes as clear and as far-seeing as those of the Risen, and like they do, it has shown me much relevance." the tom meowed.

Silentsong's eyes remained spread open, almost as wide and as bulbous as the cave dweller Himself. She had only seen the Seer once, at a far distance, and until now she had never heard Him speak. It was a most peculiar voice, quite unsettling to the unprepared. She felt honored that He spoke in her presence at all, even if He did not acknowledge her, ignoring her like a cat would pay no attention to an ant. It seemed rather fitting, she thought.

Beside her, the pelts from the mollies almost touching, Juniperberry locked her gaze with the tom, but was careful not to stay into His eyes, but out of courtesy but also out of fear of what she might see if she looked too close. Twin storms of knowledge swirled there, she would say, knowledge that did not belong to any but its bearer. She was also careful not to speak. The Seer typically took His time in between sentences, and like everyone in this room, she would take His word with supreme value.

"Change is indeed on the horizon for WispClan. The nature of it eludes me, the path remains cloaked in fog, but rest assured the destination is a brighter future for your Clan."

Your Clan? Silentsong pondered briefly. She considered the Seer to be apart of WispClan like any other of her Clanmates, but yet, as she continued to think, there truly was something different about Him, something she had perhaps failed to consider until now. He isn't apart from the Clan like a rogue. He's beside it, like a shadow... almost like a spirit in His own right.

But isn't change wrong? she questioned to herself. That's what the Elder Circle demanded be common knowledge. To their shock, it was as if the next words the Seer spoke were in direct correlation to her internal voice. By the Risen! Could the Seer read the minds of cats?

"The rigid barriers that you have shielded yourselves with have all but aided in maintaining your survival, but know that not all change is a signature of chaos. The seasons change, so does the time of day and night. Change is but a natural cornerstone of this world." He meowed.

"But the visions we have had speak greater volumes than that. You yourself acknowledged this disturbance. Do you not fear what may be to come?" Juniperberry asked brashly.

"I fear nothing," the Seer retorted. One might easily misinterpret such a response to come from a place of arrogance, but given the cat's position, both in the Clan and down under it, it was really a statement of honesty and likely some level of apathy. "But nonetheless, what we all have experienced tonight most intrigues me. I will continue to observe, assess, and in time I may come to an understanding."

Juniperberry backed off several pawsteps before lowering her head in shame and submission. "My apologies, Seer. I do not doubt your abilities." she meowed.

"I am but a messenger, an interpreter, a servant. My abilities are limited. The level of influence you have over your Clan is not where my expertise lies. Until further information can be extrapolated, all discussion of these events beyond this den and mine is to be prohibited."

"That is up to me to decide." Juniperberry reminded him boldly.

"Indeed." The Seer responded coolly.

"Nevertheless, no flaws are to be seen in your perspective. If the sands are shifting, we must keep the Clan calm. No, for now, they must be kept entirely in the dark."

The mottled gray-and-white tom in front of her nodded His head before departing, consumed by darkness as they traveled back the tunnel from whence they came. Despite His words of wisdom, the elderly she-cat's mind was still troubled.

Please let His words be true. May this oncoming storm bring only prosperity to my Clan. she meowed to herself.