[TB] TWILIGHT -- Chapter 29 (FINAL) (Patreon)

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Shadepool emerged from the elder's den and stretched, working the aches from her back and legs. Even three days after the battle with WindClan, she still felt pain from the stray scratches she'd received from being on the outskirts of the fighting - some of her Clanmates, however, had a longer way to go.

The sheer amount of injuries meant that the medicine cat cave couldn't contain them all - the more severe cases, like Mousefur, Ferncloud, and Longtail, had been moved to the elder's den to keep them from being disturbed by the constant flow of warriors coming in and out for changes to their dressings or general checkups, and to give Brackenfur and Shadepool some peace.

She wondered, though, whether or not cats like Mousefur and Longtail, two of the eldest cats in the Clan, would leave the elder's den once they were healed. Longtail had been in a funk since the battle, disappointed with his inability to defend himself as well as he used to, while Mousefur seemed to finally feel her age. Shadepool just hoped they would be comfortable, whatever they chose.

Shadepool glanced to her side. The nursery was tucked beneath the shelter of the fallen tree and had suffered the least amount of damage from the attack. She couldn't see inside but knew Sorreltail was there, as she had been for the past three days. The strain of the battle and losing Sootfur had hurt her in a way that no herb could heal, and Shadepool worried not just for her friend but for the kits she carried. A premature birth caused by the trauma was a huge concern, though thankfully, there were no signs of such a thing yet.

She had already checked on Sorreltail today, and with the cats in the elder's den taken care of, Shadepool could finally take a moment to herself. She stepped into the clearing. Even as the sun slid into the evening, bathing the world in pale orange, the cats of ThunderClan were still hard at work repairing the damage from the battle.

Dustpelt had managed to fix the gorse barrier and entrance, and now he was working on the apprentice's den, which had collapsed during the fighting. Shadepool saw him bark orders at Larchpaw and Spiderpaw, and made a note to clear him for hunting so that he didn't go stir-crazy in camp and take it out on everyone else.

Shadepool headed around the fallen tree to the fresh-kill pile. It was full of fresh prey, and her belly growled as she selected a pair of mice for herself and Brackenfur. Mistyfoot's first act as deputy had been to restock the fresh-kill pile to bolster every cat's strength, and Shadepool couldn't have agreed more. Borders meant little if no one was strong enough to fight for them.

The energy in camp felt different since Mistyfoot had been appointed. She had some doubters amongst the older warriors - some thought that perhaps ThunderClan shouldn't elect a cat deputy who hadn't fully trained the only apprentice she'd ever had - but no one could argue with Mistyfoot's work ethic and determination in the position, not with all she had done to earn it.

She spotted Mistyfoot on the top of the Highledge, sitting with Tinystar. The two were murmuring about something Shadepool couldn't hear. She lifted her tail to say hello, and Mistyfoot dipped her head in response. Tinystar, however, was too absorbed in the conversation to acknowledge her.

Shadepool's tail twitched just a little. Her father seemed different since the battle, but she just couldn't put her paw on what had changed in him. His energy just felt off, somehow. Perhaps it was because of his bruised pride and the sorrow he wore like a second pelt.

Shadepool took her mice across the clearing, ducking around the lichen wall and into the medicine cat cave.

It was quiet and cool inside, with water slowly dripping in the back from the stream above. Brackenfur was washing himself beside the shallow pool. Shadepool pricked her ears - Brackenfur had barely left his nest since he'd been allowed to rest after the battle. The swelling in his leg must have finally begun to ease.

She laid the mice between them and sniffed her mentor to make sure. His leg was still hot, but it was nowhere near as angry and inflamed as yesterday. Shadepool sighed in relief.

Brackenfur twitched his whiskers. “I'm not out of the woods yet, Shadepool,” he warned softly. “My leg aches in a way it hasn't before.”

Shadepool looked up at him, worried. “You can still use it, right?”

Brackenfur nodded, and Shadepool felt a little relief - she wasn't sure what they could do if he'd developed some infection beneath his skin. It did bother her that Brackenfur’s gaze seemed unfocused and far-off, though, like he was staring at a world that wasn’t there.

“I think it's age,” Brackenfur told her after a moment. He bent down and took a bite of the mouse. “How are the others?”

“Longtail's wounds are healing, but he keeps rubbing off his poultices,” Shadepool reported, deciding to leave it for now. She crouched down beside her dinner, mouth watering. “I tried cobwebs, but he just seems to tear right through it.”

“His nest is too brittle, then,” Brackenfur mused. “That will soon be taken care of with new growth. But so long as he's not reopening the wounds and there isn't any infection, he should still heal - just slowly.”

“Ferncloud's paws are still tender, too,” Shadepool went on. The gray she-cat had pulled out three of her claws during the fighting. “She should be fine in a day or so.”

“And Mousefur?”

“She complains about her back but little else,” Shadepool answered. “I think she might've pulled a muscle, but she refuses to sit still, even in a nest. I told Ferncloud to keep an eye on her.”

Brackenfur nodded along, chewing on a bite of mouse. “Good, good,” he mumbled before swallowing. “I'm sorry that I haven't been more help.”

“You can barely move!” Shadepool pointed out. “Don't worry about it.” Brackenfur had done all he could from within his nest, but Shadepool had done her best to tend the Clan the past three days.

Brackenfur's eyes softened. “You've made a wonderful medicine cat, Shadepool. ThunderClan is lucky to have you.”

Shadepool's stomach churned. “Is it, though?” she murmured.

Brackenfur sighed. “It is,” he said, lifting his chin. “I wish that I could make you reconsider what you're doing, but you aren't an apprentice anymore.” He stared at her impassively. “Ultimately, I am not the one who will judge you for your actions. If StarClan still deems you worthy, then it must be part of their plan.”

“But you're still disappointed in me,” Shadepool mumbled.

Brackenfur did not respond to that, not directly: “In the end, what matters is that we use our skills to protect ThunderClan.”

Shadepool stared down at her mouse. A moment ago, she had been hungry enough to eat it in one gulp - now, though, she wasn't sure she could even take a bite. In her heart, she knew that the only reason she was still a medicine cat was because of that Omen and the danger it posed to ThunderClan, and Brackenfur was likely never to be proud of her again.

Brackenfur's paw reached out and pushed the mouse toward her. “Eat,” he ordered.

Shadepool ducked her muzzle and finished the mouse within a few moments. It tasted like newleaf by the lake, fresh and full, and Shadepool swiped her tongue across her muzzle to savor the new flavor.

“You should go and get some fresh air,” Brackenfur suggested, bending his head to lick his chest. “You haven't left camp for three days.”

Shadepool blinked at her mentor. She didn't necessarily need his permission to leave camp for any reason, but she had a strange inkling that he was giving her an out to see Crowflight tonight. She hadn't seen him at all since the battle, and for a moment, she wasn't sure if she should agree.

“Go,” Brackenfur told her firmly.

“I'll try to bring back some herbs,” Shadepool promised. “With how warm it's been, something ought to be growing out there.”

Brackenfur didn't respond to that, returning to his washing. Shadepool got to her paws and left the cave. It was a strange feeling, knowing that Brackenfur was allowing her to get away with breaking the medicine cat code - it was like waiting for a dark, heavy cloud to open up on top of her head. His disapproval stung even more when she deserved it, and his acknowledgment of her skills - the thing she had craved from the beginning - had come with a price she hadn't ever imagined.

But this was the world she lived in now. Shadepool slipped through the gorse tunnel, and, out in the woods, she took in a deep breath of the heady forest air. The trees that grew around her were not the trees of her birth, but they were her home, and even if it meant losing her life as a medicine cat, she would do it to protect the lives of those who lived beneath their branches.

“Shade? You okay?”

Shadepool's ears pricked. She was surprised to see Nightfrost padding along one of the hunting trails. She should have sensed him, especially when he was so close, but the past three days had been draining - perhaps she had instinctively pulled away to keep some of that energy for herself.

His question flooded her mind now. To him, she looked like she was staring out at nothing and standing in the way of any outgoing patrols to boot. Shadepool's pelt flushed with embarrassment.

“I'm fine,” she told him. She let him in, let him feel that it was as close to the truth as it could be.

Nightfrost's gaze softened. In the orange light streamed through the budding trees, something about his pale eyes caught Shadepool's attention. There was a pair of stars floating in those icy blue waters - something that had never been there before.

He must've felt her intrigue. “What is it?” he asked, tilting his head.

“I don't know,” Shadepool murmured. Nightfrost wasn't a Clan leader whose nine lives were represented by the stars in their eyes to the cats with the knowledge to see them - he was just an ordinary warrior.

So what were they doing there?

Shadepool shook her head. Nightfrost was getting worried, and Shadepool didn't have a proper answer for him right now.

“It's nothing, I'm sure,” she insisted. “I've got to get going.”

Nightfrost didn't bother to question what she was up to - he knew because of course he did. “Want me to come with you?”

“Go and rest,” Shadepool told him. “You've been working your paws off since the battle - you might not have seen any of the fighting, but you'll work yourself to death if you don't take a break.” Her brother had volunteered for every hunting patrol he could since the battle ended. “Maybe eat something with Mistyfoot?”

Nightfrost twitched his whiskers. “Is she busy?”

“Always,” Shadepool chuckled, “but I'm sure she'll make time for you.”

Nightfrost's eyes sparkled, and he brushed his muzzle against Shadepool's cheek. She breathed in the smell of her littermate, so warm and comforting. Not long ago, she had nearly lost his friendship forever.

Never again, she told herself.

Nightfrost purred. Never, he whispered.

He left a moment later, slipping by her and disappearing into the gorse tunnel. Shadepool sighed, contented, and turned to head on her way.

As she walked through the forest, the sun heading for the horizon, she knew she wasn't alone. Out of the corner of her eye she saw it - the white cat was walking alongside her. Their stride would have matched if the white cat's legs weren't longer, but it ensured never to pull ahead.

“I don't know what you are,” Shadepool admitted as she walked. “Maybe you're my punishment for seeing Crowflight. Maybe you're part of the Omen.” She frowned. “Maybe you are the Omen.”

Shadepool halted, and she turned her muzzle to face the white cat. It had copied her, looking at her with those night-sky eyes and no expression, with no way of knowing if it could hear her at all. Its form was unnatural amid the dark browns and greens of the forest.

“You've helped me,” Shadepool meowed on. “You showed me the shadow-cats, even though they terrified me, and you helped mend my relationship with Nightfrost.” She blinked and saw Emberstep's shocked expression, the last face she had made before her death. “You saved my life.”

The white cat stared blankly, as it always did.

"Yellowfang said that you were something ancient,” Shadepool recalled. “If you can't tell me what you want with me, and I can't guess it, I just wish I knew your name. It feels strange not knowing what to call you. Especially if you’re going to be following me around.”

The white cat blinked.

Shadepool's mind was filled with images - she was running, running beneath a clear, open sky. Hills and stone. Grass turning to black rock turning to jagged boulders. A darkness, a mystery - but a light, a little flitting creature, pale and glowing. A pale moth, a guide, leading the way down into the depths...

Shadepool gasped, and she knew the white cat's name.

———————————————————

Twilight had settled on the world when Shadepool made it to the tree-bridge.

She had thought about coming to the stepping-stones, but something about the place felt tainted now that Emberstep had died there. If her spirit hadn't made it to StarClan, perhaps she would haunt it, and Shadepool didn't want to find out.

She had hoped that Crowflight would feel the same way, and she was right.

He was there, and she supposed he had been there for some time already. He was perched on the middle of the tree-bridge, staring upstream towards the Moonpool, the fading light of the sun soaking into his night-dark pelt.

She didn't know what he was thinking about, but it was something so deep that he didn't notice her until she joined him on the tree-bridge. It was an awkward place to sit until she found her balance. When her pelt brushed against him, she felt his breathing quicken.

“Hi,” she mewed.

“H-Hi,” he returned.

They stared, not at one another, but at the Divide. It wasn't so long ago, it felt, that Shadepool had seen the sparkling pawprints that had led her to the Moonpool scattering over its surface. With Crowflight by her side, she had never been so sure of herself and delighted - but that event, she realized now, had been the catalyst for the tragedies that followed.

Now, it was as if the land itself was saying something.

Crowflight seemed to think the same. His voice was heavy, and he asked, “Are we making a mistake?”

She knew what he was talking about. “Maybe,” she murmured, her heart fluttering. “But I love you, Crowflight. I don't think I'll ever be able to stop.”

Crowflight sighed. “Same for me,” he admitted. Softly, he mewed, “You walk in my dreams, Shadepool.”

Shadepool leaned against him. “Where do we go?” she asked. “In your dreams?”

“Sometimes we're walking along the lake,” he said, his voice gentle and wistful. “And then maybe we're in the forest, the old one, and the Twolegs never touched it, but it's all ours. Then... Then, sometimes, we're on our own journey, side by side, going somewhere new. But it's just us, and that's all we need.”

Shadepool closed her eyes, and she could see it all. It warmed her heart, and she wished it were real. “That sounds nice,” she decided.

“But that's not the world we live in,” Crowflight pointed out softly.

“No,” Shadepool agreed, “it's not.”

She felt his head turn, and Shadepool pulled away just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were such a dark, deep blue, and she felt as if she were drowning in their sorrowful depths - yet there was something there, something new:

Stars.

There were two of them, like the ones in Nightfrost's eyes. Shadepool blinked in surprise. Seeing the stars once before might've been a trick of the light, but here they were in Crowflight's eyes, too, like the first StarClan warriors to appear in Silverpelt in the evening. That had to mean something.

And then she heard it in her mind - Spottedleaf's voice, whispering fanatically: “There will be Four, kin of your kin, blood of your blood - Four of Thunder and Water and Wind and Shadow, Four who hold the power of the Stars in their paws. There will be Four, and they will fulfill the Promise, the Omen of the Stars!”

Two stars in Nightfrost's eyes and two in Crowflight's - four.

Shadepool was filled with some emotion she could not name, something like terror and certainty and hope, all at the same time. She dug her claws into the tree-bridge, feeling like this thing might fizzle out of her pelt if she let it. She wanted to hold onto it and feel the manic energy it gave her, even if it burned her out and turned her into Spottedleaf.

“Shade?” Crowflight wondered. His gaze searched hers, confused. “What is it?”

Shadepool blinked. The stars did not disappear, but that feeling did, leaving her hollow. She unclenched her claws and found herself panting, her heart rate slowing as she struggled for something to say now that she knew what she knew.

“You said that we don't live in a world where we can be together,” Shadepool managed, finally. Her chest felt tight, yet lingering exhilaration filled her from head to toe. She lifted her muzzle, looking up at Crowflight. “And you're right - we don't. Our codes forbid it, and our Clans hate one another.”

She touched her nose to his and spoke before he could: “But we were brought together for a reason, Crowflight,” she whispered swiftly, the words tumbling out of her, “and I think that reason was so we could make that world - one where love and duty can exist together, whether we’re medicine cats or warriors, or ThunderClan and WindClan.”

Crowflight's eyes glittered, and so did the stars in them. “Do you think so?” he asked. “Because I would follow you anywhere, Shadepool. Anywhere.”

She knew it was true, and it was a tremendous responsibility, that statement - but she was sure she was right. Through all the wrongs, this was right.

It had to be, or it would all be for nothing.