[TB] DAWN -- Chapter 30 [END] (Patreon)

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Stoneheart found himself wandering.

He recognized this place well enough, now – he was padding through the twisting, winding paths of that dark, dank forest, the fur on his hackles threatening to rise with every sound that broke through the stillness. It had been some time since he’d dreamed his way here; why had he returned now?

Bluestar said that I bring myself here, he thought, his whiskers twitching. The air smelled musty and stale, and it made his throat itch. Is that true?

He wove through dry thornbushes and dead ferns, the ground both crackling and squishing beneath his paws in the most unsettling way. Stoneheart wished he knew where he was going, but everything looked about the same – dark, dying, and shrouded in a thin haze.

Frustration lit his pelt. Why would I ever bring myself to a place like this! He glowered at his surroundings. Nothing here feels right at all!

Stoneheart broke rather than pushed through a thicket of bracken, the dead stems rattling off at his paws. The ground sloped down here, the path winding through brittle stones and more dead plants to a small open space of greasy-looking grass streaked with gray dirt.

There was a catlike shape, there, one that turned its head to look up at Stoneheart with dark blue eyes.

Bluestar.

Stoneheart’s stomach curled. It must be Bluestar that was pulling him to this forsaken place, not him. Why else would she always be waiting for him? Mentally preparing himself, Stoneheart picked his way down to his mother. The last thing he needed was to slip and slide down the slope like a foolish kit.

“Hello, my son,” Bluestar murmured when he reached her.

Stoneheart kept himself two tail-lengths away from his mother, his eyes darting about for any signs of an escape route. There was a rotten log to one side, and more dying thickets to another. A small path lay just beyond Bluestar, but Stoneheart didn’t foresee being able to use it without a fight. Could he fight his mother? Yes, definitely – but could he win?

Bluestar certainly noticed her son’s not-so-subtle search for a way out, but she said nothing about it. Instead, she turned to him, her gaze even, and said, “You have felt and seen what it means to be a leader, Stoneheart. Now it is time for you to learn what I have to teach you.”

Stoneheart blinked at his mother, taken aback. What did that mean? As instinctive as a swipe from his claw, he shot back to her, “There's nothing I want to learn from you.” Taking a breath, he went on, “I’ve told you this before.”

Bluestar, again, did not seem perturbed by that notion. She lifted her chin instead, and reasoned, her voice smooth, “Your sister has learned well so far. A few more moons with me and she will be ThunderClan’s next leader without a doubt.”

Cold shot through Stoneheart’s heart like an icicle. Mistyfoot, here? Learning from you?!

He supposed he must have known that all along – after all, he’d scented her here before. Stoneheart had to force his limbs not to shake. Why would Mistyfoot want to learn anything from their mother, the cat whose legacy had proven to be naught but poison? There was only one explanation.

“That’s a fox-hearted thing, taking advantage of Mistyfoot’s anxieties,” he snarled, bristling with anger. “It won’t last, Mother – she’ll see through you soon enough!”

Bluestar’s response was, once again, calculated and cold: “Mistyfoot has always had great ambitions,” she explained calmly. “I am simply pushing her in the right direction to see that ambition through. Why should her natural talents be wasted by a leader that refuses to see them? Why should she be trapped by her own insecurities?”

You’re the reason she’s so insecure! Stoneheart curled his lip. “She doesn’t need you,” he growled.

“That isn’t for you to decide, my son,” Bluestar returned.

Silence fell between them for a moment, with only the soft rattle of leafless tree branches above. Somewhere there was a screech of pain, so far off it sounded almost like birdsong. Stoneheart’s ear twitched – who was that? Mistyfoot? Was his sister here now, learning whatever lessons Bluestar was offering?

“This journey has taught you much,” Bluestar meowed, finally. She got to her paws, her tail curled just slightly over her back. “You have seen what leadership is, tasted of it yourself. Do you still deny that you’ve no ambition beyond being a simple warrior?”

Stoneheart opened his jaws, but found that he couldn’t respond. If he lied, Bluestar would catch it immediately – he was sure now that he wanted more than warriorhood and kits, but if he admitted that to his mother... what would she do? He chose to remain silent. If he said nothing, there was nothing Bluestar could take advantage of.

Silence, however, was an answer in itself.

“I will be here, my son,” Bluestar promised. “Ever and always. Your heart yearns for more, and I can give it to you, if you’d only let me. If not... there are others, Stoneheart.” Bluestar’s eyes narrowed a touch. “Many others.”

Stoneheart swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. Stoneheart wanted leadership for the good of his Clan, and he was sure that Mistyfoot did, too... but if Bluestar began to groom those that wanted something far more nefarious...

Bluestar tilted her head. “Well?”

———————————————————

Stoneheart woke suddenly, feeling cold to his core as his eyes snapped open. Beside him, Rowanclaw groaned and stirred, turning over onto his back without waking in the grass-and-bracken nest they’d made together the night before.

It was dark out, with stars still speckling the sky. Stoneheart’s heartbeat was ringing in his ears, and his mouth felt dry. After lapping at the dew-laden grass to soothe his tongue, he found he definitely couldn’t get back to sleep.

Perhaps I can relieve someone on watch, he thought idly.

The four Clans were sleeping soundly all around as Stoneheart stretched his limbs, one after the other. Starlight lit their bodies, clusters of cats huddled together for warmth in the chilly leaf-fall night, regardless of Clan. They looked like dark boulders scattered about, a strange sight in this patch of thin woodland where they’d stopped for the night.

The lake was not far. Stoneheart found the Father in the night sky and trailed his gaze down to the horizon. They would reach their destination by tomorrow night, he was certain. Their detour into the mountains hadn’t taken too much time – they would make it before leafbare settled on the world for good.

Stoneheart looked up at the sky again and sighed. He could swear that the smell of mold and mushrooms was still somewhere in his nostrils...

Something shifting in the grass interrupted his thought. Wary, he turned about. Huddled together like this, the Clans were many – not at all easy prey for foxes or badgers, though one or two might be tempted to try. The warriors on watch did not seem alerted by the noise, and as Stoneheart found its source he understood why.

Shadepaw was thrashing in her little nest with the medicine cats, near the center of the group. Her face was twisted in consternation, little mewls escaping her jaws as she wiggled to and fro, kicking out with her gangly legs.

Stoneheart approached, conscious that she might kick at Brackenfur if she were to keep on this way. He raised a paw and hesitated – what if this was a dream from StarClan? What did those look like, from the outside? Would it be wrong to wake her?

He was saved from the task by the brightness of Shadepaw’s eyes in the gloom. Her gaze was wide and panicked for but a moment – she soon had Stoneheart in her sights and that seemed to ease her.

“Are you all right?” Stoneheart asked, keeping his voice low.

Shadepaw glanced at her fellow medicine cats. Barkface was snoring with Brackenfur, while Littlecloud, Ryewhisper, and Mothwing slept on a tail-length away. None of them seemed disturbed by Shadepaw’s thrashing, nor seemed to be having nightmares of their own.

“It was just a bad dream,” Shadepaw decided, her voice quiet.

“Are you sure?” Stoneheart wondered.

Shadepaw narrowed her gaze, looking cross. “What, a medicine cat can’t have a nightmare?” she hissed. “Come on, Stoneheart!”

Stoneheart raised his tail in a gesture of peace. Shadepaw calmed down quickly, but Stoneheart couldn’t help but notice something in her gaze, something odd. Had it really just been a normal nightmare? Her body language suggested that it was more than that, and Stoneheart felt a little hurt that she was choosing to hide it from him.

He pushed the feeling away. She’s a medicine cat. If there’s any cat that doesn’t need to explain their dreams to a warrior, it’s them!

“Should we wake the others?” Stoneheart wondered. He glanced at the horizon. It was a little early, but if they got moving now...

Shadepaw got to her paws and began licking her chest fur. “Let the leaders decide that,” she said. “We’re going to be very busy once we reach the lake. I think we all deserve a good rest.”

Stoneheart couldn’t find fault with that. His gaze traveled across the crowd of cats again – Sun and Sorreltail were cuddled close together, their pelts just about one. Pinewhisker and Nightwing were similarly arranged not too far off. Crowflight was with his mother, Ashfoot, his tail-tip touching his nose. Nightfrost was sleeping with Mistyfoot, his small black shape curled up tightly within the arch of Mistyfoot’s body.

He found himself staring at his sister, searching for any signs of discontent in her dreaming. Where was she, right now? Was she pouncing on a mouse in a field of sunlight, or was she somewhere far darker, with their mother watching over her like a predatory owl?

Stoneheart swallowed. Be safe, sister, he urged. Please...

———————————————————

The Clans woke at dawn. Stoneheart could feel their eagerness in his fur like ants as they ate breakfast in haste and clamored to get moving once again. Every cat knew that their destination wasn’t far off, that this long, long journey was almost over.

They walked with a silent eagerness, out of the thin woods and onto the moorland hills. Mistyfoot led the way, eyes bright and confident. Stoneheart wanted to walk by her side, wanted to talk so badly – but eager questions from his Clanmates kept him in the back for the day.

“How big is it, really?” asked Willowkit.

“Bigger than any puddle you’ve ever seen,” Stoneheart had answered patiently.

“I hope no one drowns,” fretted Tallpoppy.

Stoneheart had laid his tail along her spine. “It will be fine,” he had assured.

“Are there marshes?” Cedarheart had asked, gruffly. “Would be a pity to leave all that training behind...”

“I think so,” Stoneheart had answered. “We didn’t get to see all the way around...”

It went on like that, one question after another, and not just from ShadowClan. Every cat was badgering for more information as the crest of each hill could suddenly give way to this lake territory they’d heard so much about. Kits and apprentices began to race one another, daring to hare ahead and find the lakelands first – Leopardstar put a sharp end to it by sunhigh, but that didn’t stop the young cats from turning to betting pieces of prey on what lay ahead.

The day stretched on and on, the Clans’ pace brisk – night fell, eventually, but the cats’ motivation seemed none the worse for wear. They knew that it was coming, if not over this rise, then the next, or the next.

Finally, Stoneheart saw a tall shadow in the distance – a big, blocky shape with bright square lights that jogged his memory. The Twoleg barn that lay on the outskirts of the lake!

“We’re almost there!” he assured.

His words sent a ripple of excitement through the Clans. Now there was nothing to be done about it – warriors young and old were racing ahead, daring to be the first to see the lake. Warnings were shouted by leaders and deputies alike but it all fell on deaf ears as Smokepaw squealed:

“I see it! I see it!”

One by one the Clan cats marched up that final slope. Stoneheart waited for Rowanclaw at the top, wanting nothing more than for him to see it by his side.

“It’s beautiful,” whispered Bramblefur.

“Oh, Graystripe,” Silverstream breathed. “Look at all that water!”

“It’s gorgeous!” agreed the thick-furred ThunderClan warrior.

“Stoneheart...” Rowanclaw’s voice was scarcely a whisper as he came to Stoneheart’s side. “Is this... really it?”

Heart feeling full to bursting, Stoneheart pressed his muzzle against Rowanclaw’s. “It is,” he purred. “We’ve made it.”

Before the Clans stretched the lake, the massive, round, sheet of shimmering water lit by the bright reflections of the moon and stars captured on its surface. It seemed to glow for all that light it held, like a beacon of hope that shone on the trees and hills surrounding it.

“StarClan is here...” murmured Shadepaw. The dark she-cat was a shadow as she pushed her way through the crowd. “They followed us! They really followed us!”

“So they have,” agreed Brackenfur, starlight glowing along his whiskers.

“I see a clear space down there,” Mudclaw announced. His eyes were sharp, and Stoneheart wondered if he was feeling anything close to what the other cats were at that moment.

Russetstar looked sobered, too, and she nodded. “Let’s go down, then, and rest up,” she agreed. “Tomorrow will be a busy day, for sure.”

Now the cats were moving again, and Stoneheart found himself wishing that they would stay but a moment longer, to really take in the beauty – but he swallowed back that thought. They had made it here, after all, and this place was to be their home. That majesty would always be there. There would be time to take it in.

“I think I see pine trees, Mum!” cried Rushkit. “Is that where we’ll live?”

“Hush,” Finchsong soothed. “First, we rest; then we decide that...”

Stoneheart’s whiskers twitched in amusement. He nudged Rowanclaw, urging his mate to go on. “I’ll meet you down there,” he assured. “Someone needs to make sure no one’s left behind.”

Rowanclaw’s eyes sparkled, and she got to his paws. He licked Stoneheart around the ear. “I knew you could do it,” he purred. “There was never a single doubt in my mind, my love.”

Stoneheart’s heart felt warm, and he watched Rowanclaw’s shape merge with the other shadows down the slope. He felt light on his paws, like he could walk across the lake water as if it were made of ice.

“I did it.”

Mistyfoot’s voice was soft, and Stoneheart was sure he wouldn’t have heard it over the commotion of the cats moving off if he didn’t know his sister’s mew so well. The blue-gray she-cat was still sitting on the slope, her shoulders lit by the moonlight. Her gaze was locked on the lake, soft and glittering with emotion.

“Stormfur,” she breathed, “I did it. I brought them home.”

Stoneheart moved to his sister’s side, and nudged her shoulder with his forehead. “I’m sure he’s proud of you,” he meowed. “I know I am.”

Mistyfoot sighed. “I just wish he were here to see it.”

Stoneheart had to chuckle. “What do you mean, sister?” He gestured with his tail down to the lake below, where the stars of Silverpelt glimmered. “He’s right there! He was waiting for us all along.”

Mistyfoot’s whiskers twitched, and she purred, pressing her muzzle into her brother’s fur. Stoneheart wrapped his tail around her, holding her close for a moment. He breathed in her scent, the familiarity of it tugging at his heart.

“Let’s go,” he told her, pulling away. “Let’s go home.”