darkstar's lives.

“Mousestar isn’t coming back. I think it’s time.”

It was one of the last things the old medicine cat had murmured to him, sickness and age seeping through his body in the back of the medicine cat’s den. Darkwind hadn’t said anything, simply stared at his paws as the two hung there, the darkness of the den wrapping around them as the sunset light crept through the den’s entrance. Then again, what was he supposed to say to that? It had been moons. Four moons, since anyone had heard from the leader last. He’d been there one morning, gone that evening, lost in the marshes and the scents of carionplace.

They were just words, soft reminders of the truth, yet, they followed him, masking the sound of every step he took across ShadowClan’s thick territory. Sparrowpaw had made the travelling herbs he needed upon request, but the deputy advised her to stay behind. Her mentor needed her company more than he did. It wasn’t his first trip to mothermouth, after all. Yet, at the back of his mind he did regret not taking someone. The silence pressed in around him, the night air still as he took a long, deep breath. The scents of new-leaf were fading into those of Greenleaf, the heat of the day still lingering in the damp ground underpaw.

“Mousestar isn’t coming back.”

Why? Where did he go in the first place? The tom wrinkled his nose, haunches bristling ever so slightly at the thought. Did he abandon them? Or was this StarClan’s request of him? Why did no one know? Frustration, a familiar friend, rushed up through the tom’s chest, nestling in his throat. The anger and grief of the original search for him had long since faded, but the frustration had remained. If only they knew. Then they could wait. What if he was going to return? Or, what if he had passed away moons ago, and they’d been openly defying StarClan by not having their leader named. Perhaps that stirred in his gut the most.

Then again, StarClan had never done anything good to the forest, why would they let them know of such a thing? A soft snort escaped the deputy as he reached the edge of carionplace. For a moment he paused, nose wrinkling as the stench of humans rushed through his nose. The tom gave a shake of his head, and pressed on along the fence line. The smell was one thing he didn’t miss about them. Not that he missed a whole lot. The warmth, the food, they were always at the back of his mind. However, they were nothing compared to the forest, to having something to live for. Even if it put them at the paws of malicious ancestors who only wanted to see suffering.

A car sped along the road as he reached it, and the tabby flattened himself against the ground, ears pinning back against his skull. No, he needed to put that behind him. ShadowClan needed a leader, and if Mousestar wasn’t going to live to that role if he was still alive, it was time for change.

“I think it’s time.”

It was time. He had the clan’s support, and had for moons. But, as the moon steady rose across the horizon, the road passing under the deputy’s paws, and the foot of the highstones came closer into view, he couldn’t be more sure of what needed to happen. Even if that meant talking to StarClan, he had to make contact. Maybe… he’d heard stories of what the ceremonies entailed. Maybe at very least, he’d get to see Thrushflight. That was possible, right? For a moment, hope flickered in his chest, as mothermouth towered in front of him, the gaping jaws standing, waiting, as darkness twined inside. Darkwind paused, and let out a long breath.

He grasped the thought, the hope, and held on tightly. He sunk his teeth into the hope, into the idea of seeing his brother again, before stepping forward. His long tabby pelt soaked up the shadows as the light slowly vanished behind him, his paws automatically going for the large, square tunnel ahead. His whiskers brushed the side wall, his breath catching in his throat as the stale scents of the medicine cats brushed across his glands. For a moment, his resolve weakened as the darkened grew think, constricting on his chest, the tunnel growing smaller. Or at least seemingly so. The breaks and twists, the new tunnels appearing all felt like they were reaching out for him. But, Darkwind’s paws pressed on.

He had hope in his jaws, held tightly like a tiny light, as the ominous darkness wrapped around him and tugged him deeper.

The cavern appeared suddenly, light appearing around a bend suddenly, blindingly, and Darkwind slammed to a halt, ears flattening against his head as he squeezed his eyes shut against it. A heartbeat passed, echoing in the darkness, before he slowly opened the again, blinking, squinting against it as he forced a shaky paw to go forward. He’d heard plenty about how the moonstone glowed, about how it lit up the space. But, Darkwind couldn’t say he’d been convinced. However, that was exactly what happened. The moonlight glared down through the gap in the roof and made the white stone glow. It radiated around the space, and the deputy found his throat tight as he stared on. That little bit of hope, of promise grew a bit brighter.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe… maybe he was reading things wrong. Maybe StarClan didn’t meant wrong by them. How staring at a rock could change such an opinion, Darkwind couldn’t be sure. But, it was there, that little doubt. The tabby edged forward, glancing around the cavern for a moment, before moving up to the towering rock. Sparrowpaw had said just to touch his nose to it. He let out a breath, a mist that danced across the rock’s surface. Slowly, Darkwind lowered himself at it’s base, and closed his eye. For a moment, he just lay there, listening, before reaching forward to press his nose against the rock’s surface.

He wasn’t prepared for how cold it would be. Like sticking his nose into ice in the marshes during leaf-bare, or like falling into the snow in battle training when claws had accidentally slipped out. It tingled and stung across his face, and after a heartbeat his eyes were forced open from it.

StarClan had always remained a mystery to him, and has his views had changed, so did any idea of what Silverpelt might entail. Yet, there weren’t many words to describe the plains the stretched out in front of him, the grass that brushed his nose, green and laced with stars, or the vast, dark expanse that reached out over. For a moment, the deputy’s eyes widened with wonder, as a breeze seemed to ruffle his pelt as much as the starry grass. It smelt… he wasn’t sure. Like the human’s nest did. Groomed and proper, fresh and watered. It smelt like what was once home.

Slowly, Darkwind pulled himself to his paws, and turned. That was when he saw the forms. The starry pelts that stood still, curious, posed. His heart thudded in his chest with a sudden wave of nerves. A lump caught in his throat.

“Mousestar isn’t coming back. I think it’s time.”

A tall, thin form stepped forward, tortoiseshell pelt seeming like it was on fire as the stars glowed against the ginger specks. Sharp amber eyes studied him, and Darkwind, finally, forced himself to straightened. He swallowed his nerves along with the hope, as the eyes that watched him didn’t seem all that welcoming. Nor did any others. They all stared, unblinkingly, waiting, watching. Darkwind forced his claws to stay retracted.

“Why are you here, Darkwind?”

A heartbeat passed, and Darkwind focused on his breathing as his ears flicked back slightly. For all-seeing cats, they certainly didn’t seem like it. The deputy swallowed, and lifted his head.

“I’m here to request my lives, to take over from Mousestar as leader of ShadowClan.”

Silence greeted him, as the small bit of hope continued to slip down his throat and toward his belly. The tom’s claws unsheathed and dug into the dirt below. No one moved. The tortoiseshell simply stood still, continuing to stare on, and as time went on, the deputy fought to stay off the defence. There was something about that look…

“Request denied. Mousestar is still alive, and therefore ShadowClan leader.”

For a moment, as the words boomed out, the tom could only stare. His ears flicked back again.

“Then, where is he? We haven’t seen him in four moons. What sort of leader abandons his clan for four moons?” The words were sharp as the deputy’s nerves faded back into frustration. He straightened himself fully as the tortoiseshell finally took a step forward, standing just as high. Darkwind’s chest pounded.

“Go home, Darkwind. We have nothing to say to you.”

Nothing to… The deputy swallowed again, and sucked in a breath. He was denied. That was it. Mousestar was alive, he was still deputy. He needed to go home and say so to the clan. That was that. Yet… the anger was building in his chest. Nothing to say to him. They had nothing to say while his clan was lost without a leader. While as deputy he had to look after the whole clan on his own without anything more than a hope and a pray. Filling in for a leader who couldn’t even be bothered to tell his clan where he was going?

No. “Mousestar isn’t coming back.”

“Well, that is quite the shame. However, I am not done.” The deputy stepped forward, and the tortoiseshell continued to stare on with venom now evident in her gaze. He met her without hesitation. “Who do you think you all are? Standing up here, making decisions and the like as though you have a true understanding of what’s happening. My clan is suffering down there, and we have been abandoned by our leader. Abandoned.” He took another step forward, chest burning, teeth grinding whenever he closed his mouth. The leader’s ears flattened completely against his head. Saying it out loud only made it more true.

“Mousestar left without warning. He left us to suffer, unknowing. Yet here you are, deciding regardless of the health of those still living, your kin, that a cat who cannot be bothered to maintain the warrior code and loyalty to his clan, should still be deemed leader.” He took a few more steps, and drew nose to nose with the tortoiseshell. Her eyes looked molten between the stars and the stare, but Darkwind remained. “Do you want us to be destroyed? To fade away? Because this is what will happen. My clan will lose their trust in you, and they will fall, and it is StarClan that will be to blame.”

Darkwind took a deep breath, and forced his ears straight, and expression just as much. He waited a heartbeat, soaking in the silence, as his head hammered against his chest. “Let me rephrase. I am here to demand my live to take over from a traitor who has abandoned you and his clan.”

“And what makes you any better? Abandoning faith in your leader?” The she-cat suddenly snapped. Darkwind’s muscles wanted to recoil, but he forced himself to stay straight. Instead, he huffed out a breath as though he’d been kicked. “Why should I maintain faith in a cat who blatantly didn’t care enough to tell us why he was going?” Darkwind replied after a moment, his voice suddenly pulled back down a level in volume. For a moment, the staring continued, before finally, the cat stepped back, and turned her back on him.

“You honestly believe you were abandoned, hm?”

Darkwind’s claws dug deeper into the ground. “Yes.”

“Even if we were the ones who sent him away?”

Darkwind’s teeth grinded together, his hackles raising. Of course. Of course it was them. All this time, he was right. They did send him away. Even if that wasn’t what they were admitting to, they were insinuating it. They really did want ShadowClan gone. Maybe that was not the truth of the situation. Maybe the true mystery was there and waiting. However, for Darkwind, every word that had escaped him felt confirmed. The deputy straightened. There was venom in his voice.

“Especially, in such a case.”

The cat lifted her head, and seemed to look among the starry-pelted figures. “To abandon faith in your leader is to break the warrior code, and in turn betray us just as much.”

A snort escaped the tabby tom. “Oh, that happened a long time ago.”

The tortoiseshell turned around suddenly, and this time, Darkwind did step back half a step, ears flattening once again at the fire in the she-cat’s gaze.

“Then let us make an agreement. If you are so determined that Mosuestar has turned his back on ShadowClan, then we, as StarClan, will turn out back on him, and recognise you as leader.”

Darkwind clenched his teeth.

“However, in doing so you will have commited one of the most prominent betrayals. You have turned your back on us and condemned your own leader. You will never be one of us, and will spend your eternity in the Dark Forest, where a cat with as dark of a heart as yours belongs.”

Did he hesitate in acceptance? Perhaps for a heartbeat as that little drop of hope plopped down into his stomach. However, his response barely accommodated for that.

“If that is what is needed to save my clan, then so be it.”

The tortoiseshell stared again, and Darkwind finally dropped his gaze, the anger seeping away ever so slightly into… something else. Perhaps grief? Perhaps acceptance. Whatever the case, his gaze latched onto the grass below his paws.

He just wanted to help his clan. He wanted to give them what they needed, leadership, confirmation. A hope that they wouldn’t be lost without guidance for the rest of their moons. No matter the consequences, this was for them. His life was ShadowClan now, and… that was what it needed to stay.

It felt like too long had passed, before suddenly, his paws seemed to fall out front under him, and his chest slammed into the ground, limbs crumpling. For a moment, he gasped, the ability to move seemingly ripped away as he lay there, awkwardly pressed against the ground. Panic slammed through him as he fought against it, nothing showing, until finally life shot back into his limbs as he slammed himself to the side, rolling across the grass and scrambling to get footing once more. Yet, when he swung around, it was an old, familiar face that greeted him.

Yarrowfur stuck out from the crowd, large and plush, with his thick pelt and bright eyes, he stood there, and looked on with a sad smile. Darkwind’s heart pounded all over again. The tom who’d gotten him into the clan. The cat many believed to be his grandfather, even though that was far from the truth, he stepped forward, and bumped his head into Darkwind’s. The deputy didn’t move, only looked to the ground. “You did the right thing,” the tom murmured. Darkwind didn’t move. “Those who care will be watching you regardless of what the olds of the olds say.”

Darkwind finally lifted his head, and met Yarrowfur’s gaze once more as the touch reached forward and touched his nose to Darkwind’s head. “With this life I give you Loyalty. Remember why you have done this, and always put your clan before anything else in life.” Darkwind wasn’t sure what he expected, but the life hit him like a truck. It slammed through his forehead in a burst of rage and determination that shot through his very heart. The fresh feelings of Mousestar’s betrayal, of earning his warrior name, of defending his clan against threat after threat. It seared across his skin and tore at his pelt. Millions of healed wounds lighting up across his pelt.

He barely stayed on his paws as his teeth slammed together, ears flat against his head. Then, as Yarrowfur stepped back, it was gone, and Darkwind had to take half a step back. He let out a shaky breath, and watch the elder’s form disappear, and instead be replaced with a tall white form, sharp green eyes on him. Wolfthroat. The deputy swallowed, and forced himself straight before his former mentor. The tom smirked, and stepped forward to press his nose against Darkwind’s head. “With this life I give you Endurance. Use it to keep going no matter what challenge is placed in front of you.” The wind was knocked from his lungs almost immediately, a rush of air slamming through his body and under his paws, the feeling of racing from twolegplace, the continued pressure of apprentice training, his own training after Thrushflight’s death. He had to keep going, an endless rush of running searing through his veins.

This time his paws did fail him, and as Wolfthroat stepped back, he crumpled, barely catching himself against the ground. “You’ll do fine,” was all the warrior said, before retreating once again. Darkwind was barely back to his paws when Stonefang appeared. The warrior stood just as tall and proud as he had when Darkwind was an apprentice, and immediately the tom drew himself level, the best he could on shaking limbs. Stonefang had no extra words, simply pressing his nose forward. “With this life I give you selfless protection. Use it to defend anyone who needs you against anything that may come for them.” It was hard to describe the feeling that charged his bones, and shocked like electricity on an old mat in the sun. A panicked jolt to drive for any threat, to protect. He needed to protect.

It was gone perhaps just as quickly, and Darkwind just caught himself from falling again. He swallowed. A tabby emerged next, with sharp eyes and smirk across his features. Immediately, Darkwind recognised it, his mind snapping back to that face poking out from the bushes in his old garden, challenging for a fight. Rootwhisker. The tom barely stopped in his strides before he pressed his nose forward. “With this life I give you judgement. Use it to do what’s best for your clan, no matter the cost.”

The life hurt in a way that Darkwind perhaps wasn’t expecting. Grief shot through his, tearing at his limps, his chest. The feeling of his clan crumbling, of being abandoned, of needing to save them, of doing anything of… He recognised himself in the flashes of images, in the feeling. Rookwhisker along fences, seeking out cats, begging anyone to come back to the depleted clan, of himself and Thrushtflight finding him… It had all been for the better of the clan. Darkwind let out a breath, and dipped his head as Root whisker stepped back, and disappeared back into the crowd. For a moment there was silence, before a small form sudden appeared, and cleared her throat. Darkwind’s eyes blinked open.

Tawnykit. He recognised her calico form, and bright eyes. A kit taken too soon by illness, back when they first joined the clan. Darkwind couldn’t help but look at her curiosly as he dipped his head. She hopped forward, and pressed her nose to his head roughly. “With this life I give you Friendship and Happiness. Don’t forget to make people happy and have cats you like around while you’re being all serious too!” The life was just as hard as the others, sudden and sharp, as protective and loyal as the others, but, it finished lightly, gently, happiness. Darkwind still found himself on the ground once again, and giving a frustrated sigh. Tawnykit giggled at him. “I’m glad ShadowClan gets to have a leader like you,” she meowed quietly, winking at him, before running back into the crowd.

Darkwind took a moment, before pulling himself up again. But, when he did he found a form at his side, helping, a familiar chuckle radiating around him. Darkwind closed his eyes for a moment, before turning his head. Sure enough, it was Thrushflight who stood next to him, bright-eyed and as happy as ever. Darkwind’s heart thudded, and a small smile settled across his face as his brother looped back around in front of him. He wasn’t expecting a speech, and for once he didn’t get one, with Thrushflight just stepping forward and pressing his nose against Darkwind’s head. “With this life I give you love and patience. Open your heart to others, Darkwind, and remember to have patience with their flaws, like you did with me.” The life was soft, fun, the smells of the humans cooking, the television roaring, of toys and laughter. Of practice training, of sharing tongues.

It left Darkwind standing still, savouring it for a long moment, before finally it faded, and his gaze fell back to Thrushflight. There were plenty of words he wanted to say, but nothing came out. His brother seemed to sense it, and just laughed again, leaning forward to bump their heads together. Darkwind stepped back, and prepared himself. However, as Thrushflight stepped back, the words escaped him that weren’t meant to come yet, especially not from a warrior. They needed to come from a leader, didn’t they?

“I hail you by your new name, Darkstar. Your old life is no more. You have now received six of the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of ShadowClan. Defend it well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity.”

Darkwind gaped, and looked around quickly, as the cats of started started chanting his name. Wait. The tortoiseshell smirked at him from the back of the crowd, having remained silent during the cheer. “If you were expecting nine lives, you were mistaken. Mousestar did not resign or declaim his three remaining lives. You can only have what is not still in use.” The laugh that followed was cold, and taken up by a few of the other cats at the far back, and immediately, Darkwind’s anger was back. What did they not listen? It was Thrushflight’s tail on his shoulder, that had the new leader’s head snapping away from them.

“If anyone can do this with six lives, it’s you. Just do what’s right for your clan, okay?” For a long moment, Darkstar stared at him, before bobbing his head. The acknowledgement barely happened, before everything was fading around him.

The cold was what he felt first, lingering in his bones, stinging his nose, and immediately, Darkstar snapped himself away from the stone, giving a loud snarl. They couldn’t do this. They couldn’t…

When he moved in through the camp entrance, Darkstar walked with his head held high, as cats looked to him hopefully. He remained straight-faced as he leapt onto the boulder, and turned toward the clan. “Cats of ShadowClan. I have returned from the moonstone with my lives and my name. Mousestar has indeed passed over, and it is time for ShadowClan to move forward.” The words were false, and stung on his tongue, but they were done, and as the clan gathering, acceptance was clear on their faces, just as much as hope. Below him, they held up the tradition, and called his name, and Darkstar swallowed the guilt that started to surface.

This was what was for the best. ShadowClan needed this. This was for ShadowClan. Everything he did was form his clan. It had been from the moment he joined them, to the time where his last life was taken. ShadowClan was his home and he would always put their health, wellbeing and needs before anyone else. His mind lingered on Stonefang’s live, before he dismissed it. ShadowClan camp first. Always.