[TB] DAWN -- Chapter 18 (Patreon)

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Stoneheart wandered through the mist, whiskers twitching. He hadn’t expected to dream his way into this gloomy, dark forest again – he thought that, with Rowanclaw back by his side, his dreams would be nothing but the usual fare. Still, he was here, now, and with this being the third time... he found himself curious, rather than frightened.

There seemed to be no discernible trails through the sickly trees, and when Stoneheart opened his jaws to taste the air all he gathered was the musty smell of mushrooms and decay. There seemed to be no life anywhere, no prey or greenery to be seen, and there were definitely no landmarks of any kind that seemed to stick in his memory.

Stoneheart was puzzled by this place. It felt so wrong to be here – Bluestar had confirmed that this was not StarClan. Why did he keep finding himself coming back?

He paused, examining his surroundings. There was a stream nearby, filled with a thick, sludge-like substance that Stoneheart guessed was meant to be water. He approached it, bending his muzzle down to sniff at the liquid, only to recoil – it smelled rank, like several fish had died in it.

How does any cat live here? He thought, bristling.

He kept the water to his side as he walked, despite its odor. It was something to keep his direction, at least. It had to lead somewhere.

As he walked, Stoneheart supposed that if Bluestar’s spirit called this place home, then so did other spirits of her ilk. It makes sense that StarClan wouldn’t want villains like them around, he thought, padding on. But what does that mean if I’m here?

He tried scenting the air again and, to his shock, got a whiff of familiar cat-scent. As if his thoughts had summoned her, Bluestar seemed to be lurking nearby. Since Stoneheart had no idea how to wake from this dream of his own volition, he turned his paws towards his mother – she had woken him before, she could again.

It didn’t take long until he spotted her. She was sitting on a boulder that looked to be sinking into a mire of dead grass and mud, regal despite her surroundings. Bluestar’s dark eyes were locked on her son as he approached, her tail-tip twitching lazily.

“My son,” she meowed, when Stoneheart came into earshot. “You’ve come.”

“Are you calling me here?” Stoneheart asked, narrowing his eyes. “If you are, stop it. I’ve told you already that I want nothing to do with you.”

Bluestar seemed unaffected by his words. She flicked an ear and asked, “You are leaving the forest?”

Stoneheart blinked, then nodded. “The Clans are leaving, yes. At dawn.”

“Good,” Bluestar mewed. “They waited far too long, in my opinion.”

“I don’t recall asking,” Stoneheart grunted. “Unlike you, some cats care about what they’re leaving behind.”

Stoneheart wished his words stung her, but they didn’t seem to. Bluestar’s eyes only flickered, briefly, and he felt a flash of frustration towards his mother. Don’t you feel anything?

“Why stay in a land doomed to die?” Bluestar meowed on, “The forest was growing stale, too stagnant to change. This lake, though... there are infinite possibilities there – nothing needs to stay the same for long in a land like that.”

Stoneheart found himself both puzzled and wary at his mother’s words. He took a step back, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

Bluestar stared him in the eyes, her gaze even. “My dear son, your world is changing... and you and your sister are at the head of it. If you could just extend your paws, the power to control that change is within your reach.”

Stoneheart felt a chill. “I don’t want to control anything,” he growled. “I’m not you.”

She seemed not to hear him. “I could aid you, guide you...” Bluestar went on, “Oh, Stoneheart – the potential is within you, just waiting to be unleashed. Let me unlock it...”

Stoneheart’s hackles rose, and he unsheathed his claws. “Enough!” he snapped. His shoulder fur rose as he snarled on, “I listened to your poison once before and, while it brought me to ShadowClan, I told myself that I would never be deceived by you again! I want nothing from you, Bluestar.”

Bluestar’s eyes flashed at that. “Very well,” she decided, her tone frank. “You think yourself stronger than I, and I cannot blame you for that – but if you think that kits are all that it takes to satisfy you, you are mistaken. You are of my blood... and my blood is power.”

“It’s my blood, now,” Stoneheart scoffed, curling his lip. “My life. I’ll decide what’s worth doing with it.”

He turned his back on his mother. “Don’t darken my dreams again,” he growled, moving away from her. “I don’t need you.”

“Oh, Stoneheart,” Bluestar sighed behind him. Though she was still several pawsteps away, her voice sounded as if it were right in his ear. “This is the place for those who seek more... I did not call you here...”

The world darkened around Stoneheart, and the gray tom felt the land beneath his paws pitching, growing uncertain in its own physicality. Stoneheart sank his claws into it, desperate to cling, not wanting to feel that horrible falling sensation again...

“You came yourself.”

Stoneheart fell, wailing in the darkness.

———————————————————

Cold seeped into Stoneheart’s fur a moment later, and he woke with a start, panting. His claws scraped against pebbles as he scrambled to his feet, trying to regain his faculties.

Though the world was dim and gray, he was awake, and at Sunningrocks with three Clans worth of cats clustered around him. Some were still sleeping, desperate to catch a few last bits of rest in the home they would be leaving, other were moving restlessly about the area, scattering stones and talking quietly amongst themselves over the leftovers from the night before.

Dawn had not yet broken. Stoneheart looked up at the sky and felt a prickle of worry at the cloud cover – for the first day of their journey, rain would bode ill. He prayed to StarClan that it would warm up when the sun rose.

Rowanclaw was still sleeping with Brick and the elders, but Stoneheart knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep any longer. He carefully picked his way out from the elder’s den, grateful that he hadn’t woken any of them with his dreaming. He shivered – when he closed his eyes, he could still see Bluestar’s eyes boring into him, and hear the rasp of her voice, though he struggled to recall what she had said at the end.

Stoneheart spotted a dark shape atop one of the stones, and recognized the small body as Tinystar. The black tom was watching the sun rise over RiverClan territory, his tail wrapped around his paws as he nodded his head to the cat below him – Oakheart.

Curious, Stoneheart crept forward. His heart fluttered – though it was perfectly natural for Oakheart to talk to his leader, this conversation seemed quiet, clandestine. Something was off in their body language that worried Stoneheart.

“What are you doing, mouse-brain?” The hiss made Stoneheart jump. Curses!

Mistyfoot was beside him, her head tilted and eyes confused. Her gaze flickered between Tinystar and Oakheart, and she seemed to understand. She explained: “They’ve been talking like that since moonhigh – I wouldn’t interrupt them, not with the mood Tinystar’s been in lately.”

“Moonhigh?” Stoneheart questioned, widening his eyes at his sister. “Haven’t you slept?”

“I did,” Mistyfoot confessed, her gaze flickering away from him, “but... I had a bad dream. Couldn’t get back to sleep, after.” Quickly, she added, “I’ll be fine for the journey, trust me! I don’t think there’s a reason I could fall asleep during that!”

Stoneheart swallowed his concern. He didn’t blame his sister for her poor sleeping, and he touched his nose to her forehead. I hope she wasn’t in that place with Bluestar, he thought. He had scented her there, in the past; but there was just no way to be sure.

“What needs doing?” Stoneheart asked.

“Not much,” Mistyfoot confessed. “The herbs have been passed out, and everyone’s eaten everything we have... when dawn breaks, we move.”

Stoneheart felt a lump in his throat. The sky was already beginning to lighten, shafts of bright orange light filtering in between the dark clouds. “We should start waking cats up,” he decided.

“I’ll get ThunderClan, and tell Crowpaw to get WindClan,” Mistyfoot mewed. “He’s woken up early, too, and he’s been helping organize the apprentices.”

“I’ll take ShadowClan,” Stoneheart offered.

Mistyfoot nodded and hared away, bounding across the stones. Her first stop was Mousefur, who was curled up into a tight little ball. The older she-cat looked cross at being woken, but yawned and sighed, and Mistyfoot moved on.

As dawn broke, Stoneheart headed over to the outskirts of Sunningrocks, to the fern bed where ShadowClan was clustered. He felt a pang of regret – he'd slept with his ThunderClan family instead of ShadowClan while they stayed here. Were they angry about that? I’ll stick with ShadowClan on the journey, he thought. Oakheart and Mistyfoot will understand.

He nudged Smokepaw and Redpaw awake first, which woke Smokepaw’s mother, Duskflower. He ordered the apprentices to go join Crowpaw, while he and Duskflower went on to wake the rest of ShadowClan.

“Is it time already?” rasped Pinewhisker. The tabby tom was curled up tight with Nightwing, who was still twitching with sleep.

“It is,” Stoneheart murmured.

Pinewhisker yawned, and Stoneheart left him to wake Nightwing. Skipnose and Talonstripe woke easily, both young warriors eager to be going – Wolftooth growled and grumbled, and Stoneheart thought that he might get clawed by the older tom until his pale eyes opened.

“Off I go again, eh?” he grunted.

Stoneheart nodded in agreement. By now, he and Duskflower had managed to wake most of the Clan – Blackfoot was up, shaking dew from his pelt, and testing his voice as he woke Orre and Cedarheart. All around Stoneheart, ShadowClan woke to the dawn of the first day of their Great Journey and, as the sun rose, the other Clans were waking as well.

Stoneheart headed for Russetstar and Pansytail last – the two were curled up together in the shelter of a large fern that hadn’t yet felt leaf-fall's chill. He lifted the frond carefully and peeked inside, only to be met by Russetstar’s bright gaze.

“Ah,” Stoneheart breathed. “You’re awake already!”

Russetstar nodded, and then glanced down at Pansytail, who was still sleeping soundly. “I will be with you in a moment,” she said, her tail trailing down her mate’s side. “I want her to sleep a little longer.”

Stoneheart nodded in understanding, and pulled back. He turned around, facing Sunningrocks, which was now bustling with activity. Tallstar and Mudclaw had joined Tinystar and Oakheart in their conversation, and all around them their warriors were awake and stretching, preparing for whatever lay ahead.

The ferns behind him rustled, and Stoneheart felt Russetstar brush past, Pansytail coming a moment later. ShadowClan’s leader trotted to the other leaders with her head and tail held high, nodding to her Clanmates and sharing an encouraging word with those who needed it on the way.

Pansytail stretched beside Stoneheart, purring. “I had a good dream,” she told him. “I don’t know what this lake looks like, but I was there, with Russetstar. It was nice.”

Stoneheart felt warmth in his chest. “It will be nice,” he promised.

“I know,” Pansytail mewed. She touched her nose to his ear before loping off to join the other warriors.

“Where’s RiverClan?” asked Wolftooth. The gray tom looked cranky as he gazed over the river. “They were supposed to be here by now, right?”

“Lazybones, all of them,” sighed Skipnose. “They made us wait this long, after all – why not make us wait a moment more?”

“I’m sure they’re on the way,” Stoneheart told them. “Leopardstar wouldn’t go back on a promise like that.” At least, I hope not.

Skipnose shrugged, and Wolftooth huffed. Though they didn’t say anything more, Stoneheart realized that the other Clans were noticing RiverClan’s absence, too. They’d better get here soon, he thought. Already he could hear the monsters roaring to life in the forest. We can’t wait much longer.

As if his thoughts had summoned her, he spotted the silver pelt of Feathertail on the other side of the river. She was breathless, panting as she splashed across the channel that had once held so much water. Stoneheart got to his paws and pushed through the crowd to meet her on the shore, ignoring the swearing and complaints of the warriors he stepped on or bumped into.

“What's wrong?” he asked, heart beating in his ears.

“Feathertail? What is it?” Russetstar’s voice came from behind Stoneheart, and he turned to find her and the other leaders, along with Oakheart and Mistyfoot, there. Russetstar stepped forward, eyes serious. “Did something happen to RiverClan?”

It took Feathertail a moment to catch her breath. “I - we... hah... We can’t leave yet!” she managed, eyes wide and pleading.

“Why not?” Tinystar asked, his ice-blue gaze serious.

Mudclaw scoffed, looking irritated, “Don't tell me – Leopardstar is backing out? Why am I not surprised!”

Feathertail took another gulp of air, and this seemed to stabilize her. She shook her head. “No, no – Mudfur is dying. We can’t leave yet!”

Shock coursed through the crowd. Mudfur was dying? Stoneheart knew that RiverClan’s medicine cat was old, but he didn’t think he was anywhere near death. He exchanged a worried glance with Mistyfoot – what did this mean for the journey?

“I see,” murmured Tallstar. The old leader was nodding. “He is Leopardstar’s father... she would not wish to leave him while he is in so much pain.”

“Is there something we can do?” Mistyfoot asked, eyes round with concern.

Feathertail shrugged. “I’m not a medicine cat,” she said helplessly. “I don’t know – Mothwing's tried everything, I’m sure.”

Barkface’s voice cut through the conversation: “What’s this I hear? Mudfur is dying, you say?”

The small crowd parted, letting the WindClan medicine cat through. Behind him were the other medicine cats from all the Clans, all of them looking concerned and distressed for their colleague.

“He is,” Feathertail repeated, sounding more solemn now that she had caught her breath. “Leopardstar won’t let him die alone, so RiverClan isn’t ready to leave yet.”

Stoneheart felt a pang of sympathy for the RiverClan leader. He couldn’t imagine leaving Oakheart behind while he was dying. The pain she must be feeling right now...

Shadepaw pushed forward. “Let me go,” she pleaded, looking to Brackenfur. “I can make sure he’s comfortable!”

“No,” Brackenfur answered, shaking his head. “This is not something for apprentices to do.”

“But-!”

“There is enough to do here, Shadepaw!” Brackenfur’s voice was firm. “You and Ryewhisper must ensure that each cat has taken their traveling herbs, and ready the kits for travel. Do you understand me?”

“But I can-!”

“Do you understand me?” Brackenfur insisted, narrowing his eyes.

Stoneheart saw Shadepaw’s shoulders sag, and the tortoiseshell she-cat murmured, “I understand...”

There had to be a better way than that, Stoneheart thought, watching the young she-cat sulk away. He couldn’t help but glare at Brackenfur, but the older medicine cat was too busy talking to Littlecloud and Barkface to see it. Shadepaw is a great medicine cat! She took care of us on our journey all on her own! You didn’t have to snap at her in front of so many cats!

The three older medicine cats nodded as one. “We will sit with Mudfur and perform the rites when he passes,” Littlecloud decided.

Feathertail’s eyes shone. “Thank you,” she breathed.

“I’ll come with you,” Oakheart decided.

This earned him confused looks from Feathertail, Stoneheart, and Mistyfoot. “Why?” asked Stoneheart, tipping his head at his father. “Mudfur’s a RiverClan cat.”

Oakheart chuckled, twitching his whiskers. “He and I have a history,” he meowed. “I’ll tell you about it on the way...”

There seemed to be no changing his mind, and he limped down the shore and into the riverbed, looking back at the others. Tinystar made no move to stop him, but the small black tom did sigh, his ice-blue eyes glittering sadly.

“Go with your father,” Tinystar meowed, his voice patient, “the both of you.”

“Of course,” Mistyfoot said instantly, dipping her head. She trotted after Oakheart, her tail high.

Stoneheart cast a glance at Russetstar, who nodded her assent. He followed his sister into the riverbed, grimacing at the squelch of the mud and the smell of old water and dead fish. Though Mistyfoot had agreed quickly, she and Stoneheart shared a confused look – something was happening here that neither of them was privy to.

“Have Leopardstar meet us by the Twoleg bridge when you’re finished,” Tinystar told Feathertail. “If she is not there by sunhigh...”

“We’ll be there,” Feathertail promised.

The pale silver tabby turned and trotted across the riverbed, Brackenfur, Barkface, and Littlecloud behind her. Despite his limp, Brackenfur made the journey easily, even leaping over the trickle of water in the deepest part of the river with ease. Oakheart, however, needed helping – and his talking didn’t make it any easier for him to stumble on.

“See, when I was a young warrior, Mudfur was a senior warrior in RiverClan,” Oakheart was saying as he limped along. The mud sucked at his paws, but he didn’t seem to mind, and he took turns leaning on Mistyfoot and Stoneheart. “There was a battle for Sunningrocks in leafbare, and both ThunderClan and RiverClan were desperate for the land...”

They crossed the riverbed and made it into RiverClan territory. Stoneheart was grateful for the cool grasses, and the way they washed his paws clean of the nasty river mud. Feathertail led the way into the reeds, following a trail that smelled strongly of RiverClan – but Stoneheart wasn’t really paying attention, too absorbed in his father’s tale.

“We were all set to battle, you see, and we were evenly matched. It was going to be bloody!” Oakheart breathed, his eyes widening. “Our deputy at the time, Tawnyspots, and RiverClan’s deputy, Shellheart, were both old and weary of fighting... they were willing to talk it out, but they were surrounded by young, brash warriors who wanted nothing more than a few new scars...”

As the sunlight broke through a gap in the clouds, Feathertail led the way deeper into RiverClan land. Ahead, Stoneheart could see three tall willows, their long, trailing branches rattling in the faint breeze. RiverClan’s camp, he guessed.

“I was tired of the talking,” Oakheart chuckled. “So, I stepped up and said, ‘I will fight one of you, one-on-one, and whoever wins gets Sunningrocks.’”

Mistyfoot gasped. “Father!”

“That’s so foolish,” Stoneheart told him.

“Yes, it was,” Oakheart agreed, “and I thought I would scare them off with it, you see – but one warrior took me up on it.”

“Mudfur,” Stoneheart guessed.

Oakheart nodded. “Mudfur!” He sighed, his eyes turning far away with the memory. “I was too full of energy, too ready to fight and impress, that I didn’t think about fighting a senior warrior like him – but he stepped forward, and we fought – and what a fight it was! I still think about it... and not just because I lost!”

“You lost?” Mistyfoot looked shocked, and Stoneheart felt the same. It was difficult to imagine his father losing a battle.

Oakheart purred. “Oh, yes; he trounced me like I had just gotten my apprentice name that morning! RiverClan took Sunningrocks, and when we got back to camp Thistlestar – he was leader, then – even considered taking away my warrior name for a moon for my foolishness. But it impressed your mother, and it impressed some of the younger cats... and at the next Gathering, Mudfur announced he was going to be RiverClan’s next medicine cat.”

“No way!”

Oakheart blinked. “At that Gathering, I asked him why – he told me that he was tired of fighting over the things that didn’t matter, in the end. He made me think about my life, about what really mattered to me, and after... I asked your mother to be my mate. She said yes.”

Stoneheart shared a shocked glance with Mistyfoot. Their father had hardly spoken of Bluestar their whole lives – and when he had, it had never been with fondness, or nostalgia. There was an uncomfortable prickle in Stoneheart’s chest, but he wasn’t about to tell Oakheart to stop.

“I was happy, then,” Oakheart sighed. He forced himself to halt, just outside of the bent reeds that made the entrance to RiverClan’s camp. Feathertail and the medicine cats went inside, too focused on their mission to ask why the old tom was lagging behind.

Oakheart curled his tail over Mistyfoot’s back, and then Stoneheart’s. “Oh, my kits...” he breathed.

“Father... what’s going on?” Mistyfoot wondered, anxiety ringing in her voice. Panic gripped Stoneheart’s chest, and he stared into his father’s eyes. What’s happening?

“My life is here, kits,” Oakheart went on. “My memories, all of them, are in this forest, with cats I’ll never see again. Rosetail, my mother; Lionheart, my dear brother; Whitestorm and Tigerstar, my friends... Mosspaw, too, and yes... even Bluestar.”

Stoneheart felt something sink inside of him. Oakheart’s gaze was far away, as if he were seeing these cats he had lost along the way. Stoneheart suddenly had a terrible feeling about what his father was about to do, but he didn’t dare think about it lest it come into existence.

It didn’t matter.

“I’m staying,” Oakheart breathed. “When you leave, my kits, I won’t be joining you.”