Black Fire & Bloodstained Dreams }{ Adventure, UF

[Sunsetfur]

Title: Black Fire and Bloodstained Dreams
Chapters: 19 (including prologue & epilogue)
Author: Me, Sunsetfur
Pairing: ...
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Rising Storm - The Darkest Hour
Summary: Disease ran rampant in the alleys of the town. Rumors flew about disturbances in the far off world of the Clans. In the midst of chaos, a cat named Scourge searches for clues of his past...but his quest for truth may change the town cats forever.
Warning: Character death, tragedy
Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors, Scourge, Bone, BloodClan, or any lines from the Warriors book series. All other ideas, characters, etc. are original and are created by me.
Beta: ...
Cover: X.x.X

Author's Notes: I hope I did all this protocol stuff right! Since it's kind of the history of Scourge and BloodClan before it was BloodClan, I decided to out it in the Tribe and Loner Lands Section.

Some of you may recognize me from Tigerfur's posted story, Gathering Darkness. I did write it a while ago, as one of my earlier stories about Warriors. I gave her permission to post it and its sequel, Gray Skies, Black Dawn. Thanks to everyone who gave it such wonderful comments! I hope you'll read this too.

Allegiances

Cats of the Silver :: Founded by Silver of the Moonlit Water

Leader (commander of the cats)
Lion of the Rising Sun—golden tabby tom with green eyes

Deputy (second-in-command)
Cloud—white she-cat with gray tinges and amber eyes

The Elite (cats ten moons and older that are skilled fighters)
Stormingwind—dark gray tom with blue eyes
Raven—muscular black tom with amber eyes (mate—Rain)
Havoc—white and brown tabby tom, violet eyes (mate—Blacksnow)
Darkness—gray and black tabby tom with blue eyes
Frostedcloud—very pale gray tom
Cedar—dark brown tom
Moonglimmer—pale ginger-white she-cat with amber eyes
Blaze—golden tom with green eyes

The Scavengers (cats ten moons and older that hunt prey and scavenge food)
Sparrow—mottled brown and white she-cat
Dreamsong—pale gray she-cat
Ice—silver-white tabby tom with green eyes
Boulder—gray tabby tom
Sparkle—gray she-cat with black flecks
Eagle—golden-brown tabby tom with blue eyes

Apprentices (cats older than six moons training to be Elites & Scavengers)
Scourge—black tom with pale blue eyes
Larkspur—pretty gray she-cat with blue eyes
Rock—pale brown tom
Bronze—brown and ginger tabby tom

Mothers (she-cats expecting or nursing kits)
Rain—blue-gray she-cat with black flecks (mate—Raven)
Blacksnow—black and white tabby she-cat (mate—Havoc)

Kits (kits six moons and younger)
Dusk—black and white tabby tom
Wind—pale gray tom

Cats of the Fire :: Founded by Fire of the Glorious Sun

Leader (commander of the cats)
Sundance of the Dawning Sky—bright golden she-cat with blue eyes

Deputy (second-in-command)
Talon—dark brown tom with green eyes

The Elite (cats ten moons and older that are skilled fighters)
Smoke—dappled gray tom with amber eyes
Abyss—black tom with blue eyes
Birch—pale gray tom
Shadow—light gray and white tabby tom
Thyme—light brown she-cat
Fireglow—ginger and gold tabby tom
Blackwind—black tom with amber eyes (mate—Holly)
Stream—gray she-cat

The Scavengers (cats ten moons and older that hunt prey and scavenge food)
Ivy—light brown and white tabby she-cat with green eyes
Nightmare—black tom with one white paw and green eyes
Ember—bright golden she-cat with amber eyes
Emerald—brown tabby she-cat
Crimson—dark ginger-red she-cat
Chaos—silver tabby tom

Apprentices (cats older than six moons training to be Elites & Scavengers)
Mist—silver-gray she-cat with a twisted forepaw
Topaz—dappled golden she-cat
Bone—white and black tom with amber eyes
Ash—dappled gray tom
Owlwing—dark brown tom with amber eyes

Mothers (she-cats expecting or nursing kits)
Holly—white she-cat with green eyes (mate—Blackwind)

Kits (kits six moons and younger)
Snow—white she-cat with amber eyes
Nightwind—black tom
Gleam—white tom with green eyes


Rogues & Other Cats :: Cats that live wild in the town or beyond

Hawkthorn Sunhealer—brown tabby tom with amber eyes, the rogue healer

Marigold Starhealer, Seer of the Time-to-Come—ginger and brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes, daughter of Hawkthorn and assistant healer

Crow—ragged black tom with a battle-ruined left eye

Oblivion—black and gray tabby tom, brother of Crow

Rowan—light brown she-cat with amber eyes, sister of Crow and Oblivion

Prologue . Winter Sky

Flecks of icy snow poured down from the skies in a freezing white rain. Harsh winds tossed them through the air in wild patterns of sparkling frost. Cold sheets of ice were tinted black from the crumbling stone beneath it—the stone of the disused road that groggily snaked its way through the abandoned city slums devoid of human life. Dilapidated buildings groaned from where they stood, swaying in the wind, and snow filled in the cracks between rotting wood planks on roofs. Frost outlined broken shards of glass that lay beneath shattered windows.

In the midst of the despair was an alley, barely two yards wide and filled with overturned human cans busting with frozen refuse. Strips of grimy paper flapped drunkenly from the ground as snow settled on them, growing thicker by the minute. From the shadows of a drooping cardboard box blinked a pair of golden-amber eyes, and moments later the lithe body of a cat slithered from its depths. He had a ragged, battle-scarred brown-and-black tabby pelt. Clumps of fur were frozen into a forest of stiff spikes. The tom-cat’s eyes flicked back and forth and his fur rustled apprehensively as he began to bound silently over the scatterings of junk heaped all around.

He reached the mouth of the alley where it met the crumbling gray sidewalk alongside the iced road. From somewhere down the road a pane of glass fell from a window, and the rough smashing of glass as it hit the ground broke the silence. The tabby tom broke into a run, pelting down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of where the windowpane had broken.

As if on cue, a knot of new cats thundered down the road in pursuit of the brown-and-black tom. Their open mouths sent clouds of frozen moisture into the air and the snow whirled around them insanely as they easily gained on the tabby in front of them.

One of the cats at the back of the group yowled a signal, and three cats in the front leaped from the formation. Snarling ferociously, their claws and fangs reached for the brown-and-black tom as he spun around and defended himself. The rest of the group halted a few tail-lengths away from him and the other three, watching excitedly.

The brown-and-black tom spat, unsheathing his claws. The other three cats prowled around him in an almost bored manner. A cat from the watching group stepped up to face the brown-and-black tabby. He was a bone-white tom several inches taller than any of the other cats, with thin blue eyes that gleamed with satisfaction.

“Did you not know we would be here?” He rasped.

The tabby was shaking now, his eyes filled with fear. “I knew you would come for me, Fang,” he hissed.

“Where is she?” The white tom meowed harshly.

“Who?”

“You know who!” Fang screeched. “Your pretty little mate you spirited away from her Clan not three sunrises ago! Didn’t you realize that it would take only a matter of days for us to track you down?”

The brown-and-black tabby’s mouth curled in a wry grin. A freezing burst of wind flew at his face, ruffling his half-frozen fur and blowing thorn-sharp bits of frost into his eyes. “I expected you to come sooner, master tracker. Unfortunately for you, my ‘pretty little mate’ is not with me. She became ill and died from the cold yesterday.” The tom hung his head for a moment and inhaled deeply before looking Fang in the eye once more, defiance now lighting his features.

“Liar!” Fang yowled. “We found her scent with yours this morning around the old shed by the oak grove. Then we searched the shed, but she wasn’t there. She wasn’t in the vicinity either, so we followed your scents into that alley back there.” Fang flicked his tail at the place the brown-and-black tabby had come from. “Tell us where she is, Falcon.”

“Never!” Falcon hissed.

Fang stepped forward menacingly, pushing his snowy muzzle close to Falcon’s face. The brown-and-black tabby fought not to tremble. “You do realize,” he meowed softly, “that your nobility means nothing? We know that Amber is around here somewhere—she would never go far away from you, especially in her state.”

“Don’t you dare hurt her,” Falcon almost whispered, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them. Fang’s emotionless blue eyes flew wide and he let out a bark of cruel laughter.

“Do you hear him, my comrades?” The white tom shrieked wildly. “Listen to his pitifully lame proclamations of nobility. Do you love her, Falcon? Would you die for her?”

Falcon did not respond. In one swift motion Fang whipped his forepaw from beneath him and shoved Falcon beneath him. Placing his paw on the black-and-brown tabby’s throat, Fang pressed his muzzle right up to Falcon’s. “Would you die for her, my dear noble Falcon?”

Breathing heavily, Falcon’s eyes darted around, his gaze resting for a second on a dirt-encrusted window in the building to his immediate right. A pair of emerald-green eyes blinked slowly back before disappearing from sight. “I would,” Falcon almost whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind. “As she would for me.”

Fang’s maniacal laughing rang around the deserted human slums. “Are you afraid of dying, Falcon? Are you afraid for Amber?”

Falcon stared back at the huge white cat with unwavering determination, searching deep within his heart for the right words. “Only a wretched villain like yourself should fear death. I pity you, Fang, and all those who walk the same path that you do.” Something odd glistened in Falcon’s eyes.

High above the group of cats, in a building made of insect-infested timbers and filled with snow, the shaking figure of a she-cat lay curled in the corner closest to the one window. Her pelt was like a drop of molten gold in a rubbish heap, adorned with two bright green eyes that glistened with fear and sadness and utter anguish. The words of Falcon penetrated the walls of her heart, making her choke with emotion.

Gathering her courage, she slowly eased herself up and slunk over to the window, peering out of it carefully. All the cats below were watching Fang and Falcon avidly, not one sparing a glance around them.

Fang twisted his head to look at his followers. His order was lost in the wind, and a fresh bout of icy snow flew through the broken window. The golden she-cat shrunk back, flinching as it rained down on her and settled in her pelt.

“I give you one final chance, Falcon—where did you take Amber?”

“I did not take her anywhere,” Falcon meowed. “I followed her into these wretched slums of human waste.”

Fang snarled. “Then die for her, as you so gladly admitted you would.”

Falcon’s golden eyes remained open, his amber gaze boring into Fang’s blue eyes. Unnerved, the white tom looked away. His forepaw with unsheathed claws raised for the deathblow. The brown-and-black tom’s body limply relaxed beneath Fang and the white tom snarled in triumph and brought down his paw.

Instantly, Falcon dug his back paws into Fang’s belly. The white tom’s paw slashed out at Falcon’s face, scoring him across the cheek before it fell limp onto the ground. Blood spurted from the white tom’s underbelly in an uncontrollable scarlet fountain. The group of cats around them shrieked in anger and fear and wildly pelted down the street in the direction they had come from.

Falcon wriggled out from underneath Fang and watched in disgust as the white tom’s fur grew redder. The snow around him was stained scarlet, and droplets of blood flew through the air and fell to the earth among the white snowflakes.

“I told you that you’d never find Amber,” Falcon hissed in triumph as Fang’s jerking grew weaker and weaker. Whipping around in disgust, the brown-and-black tabby stumbled over to the building where Amber was hidden. He leaped through a gaping hole in the wall just as a screech from Fang erupted from behind him.

And then there was silence.

Falcon lightly bounded up a flight of creaking stairs, hissing as a floorboard gave way behind him and sent him scrambling for a safe stair. He slipped through the doorway at the top, leapt over a broken table flung haphazardly in front of the doorway, and hurried to the corner where the golden she-cat sat trembling.

“Falcon?” She meowed, lifting her head from her flank. She leapt up and nuzzled his bleeding cheek with her nose. “How did you survive? With Fang and his whole pack of lapdogs?”

“They left as soon as they saw that he was…he was dying,” Falcon murmured, dropping his gaze to the floor. “I never expected that I’d be the one to kill him, Amber…”

“You did what you had to.” Amber’s green eyes sparkled as she added, “Your kits will echo your honor and courage when their time comes.”

Falcon smiled shyly. “You think so?”

Amber twined her tail with his. “Of course.”

---

The spring sun glimmered pale gold in the blue curtains of the sky, spreading pools of light on everything. The old oak trees in the meadow outside the broken-down slums had emerged from the ice and snow of winter and had grown full sets of soft green leaves. A few pale violet flowers waved in a slight breeze from where they grew in mounds of dirt.

Amber’s golden pelt was frizzy and ruffled, but her green eyes were bright and happy as she watched her three kits sleeping beside her. Their tiny flanks rose and fell gently and the faint hum of their breathing sent a feeling of bliss through the sun-bright she-cat.

A blackbird cawed raucously from one of the oak trees nearest the broken-down buildings, the cacophony fading into silence peacefully in the warm air. A purr swelled in Amber’s throat as she recognized Falcon’s lean shape bounding through the meadow grass. Skidding to a halt beside her, the brown-and-black tabby grinned wolfishly and touched his nose to Amber’s.

“How are they?”

“Perfect,” Amber replied brightly, blinking her eyes drowsily.

Falcon eyed the three kits. Two had silky golden pelts like their mother, and the other had a black pelt dark as the new moon. “Thinking about names?”

“I already have,” Amber meowed quickly. “Firstly, the two ginger ones are female and the black one is male.”

“Ah.”

“And the smaller she-cat is the firstborn.”

Falcon blinked at her slowly, his eyes narrowing. “Why should that make any difference, Amber?”

Amber sighed. “You know.”

Falcon was silent for several moments, gazing off into the distance over the human town.

“I can’t hide out here forever, Falcon. I have a duty to my father. And now that Fang’s dead, I have nothing to worry about. Now that we have out kits, not even my father can deny us the right of being together. He’s old and sickly, and there’s no other cat who can take the leader’s place except his heir—”

“Which is you,” finished Falcon with a resigned sigh. “It’s just…we’ve been living out here for so long, I feel like it’s my only true home. The Fire cats…well, they’re too…” Falcon trailed off.

“Regal? Proud?”

“Controlling.” Falcon muttered, looking into Amber’s eyes, desperation wrought into his face. “The society of the Fire and Silver is bound by ancient tradition and immovable rules that govern every town cat’s life with iron paws. Those who defy the ruling bloodline are turned out and hunted down, as we were before Fang was killed.”

“Well, remember that I’ll be leader of the Fire when my father dies,” the golden she-cat reminded her mate gently. “Maybe then it all will change.”

Falcon nodded halfheartedly. “So…got any name ideas?” He meowed, clumsily changing the subject.

Amber exhaled in annoyance, but ignored Falcon’s continued stubbornness. “Yes. I’d like to call our firstborn—”

“Wait!” Falcon cried, his eyes alight with astonishment and fear. Amber followed his horrified gaze to where her kits lay.

The black kit had vanished.

The brown-and-black tabby and golden she-cat gazed at each other in distress. “Stay here,” Falcon commanded, rising to his paws and shaking scraps of grass from his fur. “He can’t have gone far.”

Silence fell between them. Amber knew they were both thinking the same thing: No kit could survive in the town slums for very long, with the wild rogues and rats lurking in every corner. But Falcon would find the black tom-kit…

Amber watched him streak away wordlessly. Her two remaining kits squeaked quietly from her side and wriggled around each other as they awoke. She flinched slightly as their miniature muzzles poked her side and they began to suckle. Amber’s eyes were tearful for the first time in moons.

“Sundance,” she whispered, touching the firstborn kit with her tail-tip. “And Ember.”

High overhead, the blackbird cawed again, voicing Amber’s fear with its melancholy cries.

---

“It’s right there, bonehead!”

Peering out from beneath the table, the mottled head of a young she-cat stared blankly across the street with inquisitive amber-green eyes. “I still don’t see anything.”

The almost-floor-length tablecloth fluttered again as yet another human rushed by. The mottled she-cat quickly drew her head back under the table to glare at her companion, a burly brown tabby who was shaking his head.

“Honestly, Sparrow…it was right outside the table a moment ago!”

“Maybe some human picked it up,” the mottled she-cat suggested coolly.

The brown tabby was silent. The honking of a monster on the road outside made both cats jump, and the tom cursed under his breath. “Stupid humans…stupid noise…”

Sparrow looked around impatiently. “Can we go? I hate the town streets in the morning. There are always more people about at this time.”

“Not until I find that kit!” The brown tabby tom snarled. “I swear, it was right outside! You don’t move—I’m going to get it myself.”

Sparrow watched helplessly as her friend ducked under the tablecloth and slunk out onto the crowded sidewalk swarming with people hurrying down the street and disappearing into various buildings. The streets of the town were always a mess of confusion, noise, and danger during the mornings. Sparrow thought longingly of the quiet alley on the far side of town adjacent to the dingy slums where the Silver cats spent the day. She watched in fear as her friend darted around the uncountable pairs of feet and vanished behind a tan clay pot in which terribly foul-scented flowers grew.

Seconds later the brown tabby returned, hurtling towards Sparrow’s hiding place with a squealing black bundle in his jaws. He ducked under the flapping cloth and thrust the terrified kit into Sparrow’s paws. “Told you,” he panted. “Poor little scrap was caught in a gutter.”

“Are you sure you didn’t snatch him from some poor ill she-cat, Cedar?” Sparrow meowed with genuine suspicion. The mewing black kit snuggled up in Sparrow’s mottled brown and white fur and purred gently.

“Of course not!” Cedar snapped. “What makes you think—”

A human screech cut him off. “Despair and disease on these wretched humans!” Snarled Cedar. “Come on, Sparrow, we have to get back to the Silver.”

“Are you sure that they’ll accept him?” Sparrow asked.

“Of course they will,” Cedar meowed reassuringly. “Come on, the human’s coming.”

Sure enough, the pale face of a livid human being appeared parallel to the ground directly in front of the two young cats, yowling and snarling as it reached out with a hairless hand to snatch up Sparrow. The she-cat grabbed the black kit’s scruff in her jaws and pelted out from beneath the table. She followed Cedar’s bounding form down the steps and off the human building’s porch.

Cedar ducked down an alleyway, away from the bustling crowds of people, and Sparrow followed. The black kit in her jaws had quieted, and its eyes blinked open suddenly. Sparrow stared at it—its eyes were the color of the winter sky: a pale, icy blue that sent a single, quick shudder down Sparrow’s spine.

She shook herself, scoffing at her stupidity. I have nothing to fear from this kit, she stated in her head firmly. After all, he’s just a rogue kit plucked off the streets. My mother had eyes like these, except they were green. She scared her father out of his wits just by looking at him…

Sparrow’s thoughts trailed away into random nonsense. In her jaws, the black kit swung back and forth, staring around at the grimy walls and structures covered with brightly colored graffiti. His eyes closed in smug silence, and he slowly drifted off into sleep. His dreams were of fire and flashing colors, and of a wailing she-cat with a pelt like the sun.

[Mossleg]

Holey moley, this soooo good!
I have never seen the word "cacophany" used in a fanfic; great job! That's one of my favorite words. ;D
Continue please!

[Lightningstrike]

Its so COOL!!!!!!!CONTINUE PLEASE!!!!!!!!!

[ghostfeather]

this is great!! ;D ;D
I like it just as much as your other story!

continue

[ghostfeather]

....i c ur online so CONTINUE!!! ;D ;D ;D ;D

[Sunsetfur]

A/N: All right, all right! I'm trying to go slow so I don't run out of chapters to post and have to make you people wait longer. Thank you all so much!

Chapter 1 . A Curious Discovery

The sky was a pale indigo-black with hints of blue and lavender, tinged with gold at the horizon line as the sun disappeared behind the hilly wasteland of moor beyond the town. The streets were nearly deserted and the windows in buildings glowed yellow with the strange devices that townsfolk used for light: flecks of unmoving fire enclosed in a strangely shaped clear glass. A single small oak tree grew in a flowerbed on a street corner, beside a pole with unnatural lights of emerald, yellow, and red. Metal lampposts guarded street corners, spreading pools of pale, unnatural light spilling over the curb.

Beneath a low wooden table on a nearby house’s porch, in almost precisely the same spot where a shy Silver apprentice had stood many, many moons ago, crouched a black tom about the size of a large rabbit. His narrowed blue eyes, like two shards of icy ember, gazed silently out at the tiny brown figure scurrying among the rank blossoms twining around each other at the tree’s roots. The mouse came to a halt beneath a violently pink flower, its back to the black cat and its nose in the air.

Quickly and quietly, the black cat slipped from beneath the table and whisked down the porch steps. Creeping down the sidewalk, he seemed to float over the ground with the grace and silence of a shadow. The oblivious mouse nibbled at a seed it had picked up from the ground as the black cat drew closer.

Swiftly, the black tom leaped and caught the mouse with his hooked claws and silenced its squeal of alarm with a slight flick of his claw. Triumphantly, he snatched up the limp body in his jaws and trotted down the street he had come from, past the porch and broke into a sprint. His heart thumped irritatingly in his ears and the mouse’s tail whipped around in the passing air and flicked the black cat’s nose every few seconds.

When the alleyway was finally in sight, he slowed his pace and came to a halt at its mouth. A brick wall had been built to hide the unsightly alley from the eyes of the townsfolk, and wild ivy and thorns crawled up its edges. Carefully dodging the fang-sharp spines of the tangled fronds, the black cat slunk into a clump of green leaves on the left side of the wall where it met the concrete side of another building. He wriggled through the rough hole, pressing his belly to the gravel-and-dirt ground and emerged on the other side into the Silver camp.

The alley was filled with discarded boxes of all types—wooden, cardboard, metal, brick, and plastic, to name a few. The buildings on the left and right had no windows looking down into the alley, making it cozy and private. Wild weeds, thorns, and ivy crawled up and down the boxes and sprawled across the ground littered with feeble stalks of grass and soil made of disintegrated human rubbish. Grimy, crumbling blocks of gravely concrete were scattered around the alley; several supporting boxes that were propped up with branches or scavenged wooden stakes. Another brick wall blocked the other end of the alley, even more overrun with weeds than the first. There were six carefully placed boxes lining the walls, arranged in rows of two, with three boxes on the left wall facing three boxes on the right wall. In the very center of the clearing was a ring of stones—some dark gray or black, several gingery-brown with dark flecks, one or two pearly white streaked with light gray, and one that was made of tiny chipped gravel fragments and shards of broken glass fused together into a irregular lump. In the center of this ring grew a tiny birch sapling, barely a yard high. Twisted silver tinsel was strung on its low branches that were laden with small emerald green leaves no larger than an apprentice’s paw. Several crickets hummed sleepily in the half-light, rubbing their legs together in a melodic harmony of whirring chirps.

The camp was almost completely silent, but if one listened closely the whispers and purrs of drowsy cats could be heard emanating from the boxes. The squeal of a kit was magnified tenfold in the quiet, penetrating the warm air heavy with the scents of pelt and whisker, wood and stone. Ducking his head, the black cat stopped near the first box on the right, made of thick cardboard and supported by creeping wisteria vines that grew thick and strong. Their violet blossoms were bright and in full bloom, signaling the rapid approach of summer. A patrol of five well-muscled cats emerged from the trailing leaves, their heads bent and tails waving. They stopped upon seeing the black cat.

“Good hunt, I trust?” Said one cheerfully. She was big she-cat, larger than most, and the only female cat in the patrol—Moonglimmer. “You were always an excellent tracker, Scourge.”

The black cat grinned coolly. Dropping his mouse, he nodded to it. “Managed to find a live one this time. Little rat had no chance.”

“Excellent,” Moonglimmer replied. She was a large she-cat, bright and cheerful most of the time, and extremely proud of her position as the sole female cat of the Elite. Her predecessors were among the best fighters and heroes of the Silver cats, and she had inherited her family’s trademark pale white fur tinged with gold. Scourge admired her for her confidence, and had looked up to her his whole life. She liked the young apprentice for his inquisitiveness, eagerness, and enthusiasm, and had become his mentor ever since kithood. “Take it to Blacksnow. She kitted while you were gone, and she’ll be glad to have some fresh prey.”

“Did it all go well?” Scourge asked curiously. Kitting was a risky affair in the town, as few herbs were present to heal injured or ill cats. Occasionally, loners or rogues from distant lands were learned in the art of healing, but seldom lingered in the town.

“Perfectly fine,” another cat meowed, his tabby pelt rustling as he shifted his weight from paw to paw. A pair of strange violet eyes blinked slowly. “She had three kits, but one was too weak to survive and passed on into the Great Unknown a few moments after birth.”

“I’m sorry, Havoc,” Scourge meowed clumsily, not sure if he should have said it. Havoc was the father of Blacksnow’s kits, and the tabby tom’s past experience with kits had not been happy. Foxes had dragged off their first litter by night, and the second had died from starvation during the winter around the time Scourge was apprenticed.

“No matter,” the tabby tom replied hastily, glancing around at his companions. “We’d better get a move on and make our rounds before it gets dark.” Nodding, Moonglimmer padded past Scourge with the other four behind her. They reached the entrance and were gone a moment later through the hole.

Scourge turned around and carried his mouse over to a metal box in the middle row on the right side almost completely hidden by trailing ivy. It was backed up so that it leaned up against the right wall, and a flat piece of cardboard rested on top of it. The edges stretched past the length of the box, creating an excess roof that hung over the box about a tail-length in each direction. A gently mewing and purring came from inside, and Scourge was greeted by the gentle voice of Blacksnow.

“Come to see the kits?” The she-cat asked as Scourge padded into the den. Scourge nodded shyly before dropping the mouse by her side.

“Moonglimmer told me that you’d appreciate this,” the black tom meowed. His eyes were fixed upon the two gently purring shapes by Blacksnow. One was a black and white tabby, like its mother, and was swishing its tail back and forth in lazy bliss as it suckled beside a larger, pale gray kit. It struck Scourge how tiny and weak the two kits were, and a sense of unease gripped him. Confused, Scourge pushed it away, unsure why he had felt it. Something was stirring deep within him….Angry, the black tom blinked and searched his consciousness for the cause of this strange sensation. A fleeting image of three kits suckling side by side crossed his mind, and a golden streak of fur flashed across his vision quicker than lightning.

It was like trying to recall a dream: flashes of unfamiliar, forgotten things carelessly flinging themselves from his mind, impossible to remember.

“Scourge?” The politely curious voice of Blacksnow snatched Scourge back to earth and he blinked quickly as he remembered where he was. “Are you all right? Is something, er…troubling you?”

“No,” the black tom replied, a little too quickly. “I’m fine.” Nodding hurriedly, Scourge backed out of the den and slunk over to the den directly opposite it. It was as overgrown as the first; twisting spirals of brambles and weeds wound together in a hopelessly tangled nest. Intertwined were scraps of cloth and paper scrounged from the streets, as well as smooth glass pebbles, a chipped and stained miniature wooden horse, and a long blue ribbon that was kept by Scourge’s fellow apprentice, Larkspur.

The she-cat was not in the apprentices’ den, however. Scourge squeezed in through the mess of weeds and human trinkets only to see Rock and Bronze curled up near the mouth of the den, sides expanding and falling back with the hum of sleep. The black tom skirted around the two brothers and approached his own nest in the back of the den, right against the dry wood-plank side. Scourge nestled among the rags and leaves arranged into a comfortable position. His eyes closed, but he did not sleep.

He lay like that for a long time, taking comfort in the black abyss of his inner vision. When his eyes opened hours later, he saw Larkspur’s gray shape bathed in moonlight opposite him, close to Rock and Bronze. Drowsily, Scourge lay back down again and felt his mind slipping away into nothingness…

A sharp, irritated hiss ruptured his half-dream state. Shifting about angrily, Scourge froze as he heard a light, female voice call softly, “Lion? Are you still awake?”

Scourge’s annoyance vanished as he recognized the voice of Cloud, Lion’s mate and the deputy of the Silver. Why would she be calling on Lion if it weren’t something extremely important? Scourge thought, excited at the prospect of eavesdropping on a secret conversation between the two most powerful Silver cats.

As silent as the stars on a black winter night, the apprentice slink out of the den and crept to box where Lion made his den. It was large and made of cardboard, located on the left side of the camp in the third row, with ivy twining around it and drooping over the entryway in graceful swirling patterns. Cloud was no where in sight, so Scourge crept to the back of the box and hid himself among assorted scraps of rubbish left by townsfolk.

Cloud’s voice issued quietly from inside the box, and Scourge was delighted to hear it with such clarity. “…always was a bit odd. Remember when he was a kit—don’t tell me that your memory’s not as good as it used to be, you’re only a few moons older than me and I can still remember things perfectly—and you always felt like he was watching you?”

Lion did not reply. As leader, he was called Lion of the Rising Sun, a powerful name that once belonged to a great hero uncountable moons ago. He had a commanding, proud aura that made new apprentices stare during Time-of-the-Moon gatherings. With a golden tabby pelt and bright, intelligent eyes, he was popular among she-cats when he was younger, although Cloud was promised to him during his kithood. Leaders were given mates as kits, while most other cats were given mates when they graduated from apprenticeship, usually chosen by parents.

The tired voice of Lion was louder than that of his mate’s, and took Scourge by surprise when it finally sounded from inside. “Of course I do, Cloud. But I never was as disturbed by it as much as you seem to have been.”

“I’m not disturbed!” Cloud countered angrily, spitting the last word with disgust. “I’m simply reminding you of his…unknown origins. He was gone again today, and now she’s ill—you know of his past. We’ve denied that he’s her son for all these moons, but sooner or later they’ll figure it out. Those eyes…they’re unnatural. What if he wasn't hunting this morning? He could have been visiting her, Lion...making sure she's alright!”

Scourge’s own eyes flew wide.

“Yes,” Lion agreed somberly. “But he has remained unsuspecting for all of his life. What makes you think that he’s suddenly discovered the truth about his past?”

Cloud was silent, just as Lion had been minutes before.

“There’s a Time-of-the-Moon gathering soon.”

“So?”

“Well,” hissed Cloud’s voice from inside of the box. “What if he’s been talking to some of the Fire cats? What if they tell him the story of Amber and Fal—”

“I’m sure that he’s heard that story a hundred times,” Lion meowed in a tired voice. “And I think you’re worrying for nothing. He’s lasted for quite a while without suspecting anything. Nothing has changed.”

“I still think that you’re taking this matter too lightly,” Cloud snapped. “He has great potential, Lion. The truth must be kept from him, or who knows what he could achieve…”

There was a rustling from inside the box, and Scourge shrank back into the shadows as Cloud emerged from Lion’s den. Holding her head high, she trotted away towards the den where the Elite slept.

“Cloud?”

Lion’s great muscular form had appeared from his den. The Silver leader was a magnificent cat, with a pale golden tabby pelt and a strong frame. He had become the leader when he was barely older than Scourge himself, and had assumed the role with pride and wisdom.

Cloud turned back and gazed at him, an unusual glint to her eyes.

“Don’t worry. I’ll watch him.”

Lion bowed his head and padded back into his den, ducking his head under the fronds of ivy. Cloud sighed heavily and vanished into her own den.

Scourge was left behind, in the shadows, breathing heavily. His mind was racing and his heart beat faster then average. They were worried about a cat of the Silver, a cat with strange eyes with a strange connection to the Fire. Well, there were several cats with strange eyes in the Silver—himself included—such as Havoc’s violet eyes and his half-brother Cedar’s glassy scarlet-tinged orbs. The headstrong, outspoken Scavenger Dreamsong had a vivid shade of unnaturally bright green in her eyes.

And the connection to the Fire? The two bands of cats in the town had always lived peacefully, keeping to themselves except at the Time-of-the-Moon gatherings, when they would share news and gossip as well as warn each other of dangers arising in the town alleys. Occasionally over the years, there would be an outrageous scandal involving a cat from the Fire and a cat from the Silver who’d had kits together, but those were in the past. Anyway, Scourge had asked about his parents before. They were both in the same band and were both great cats before they had died.

One part of the conversation, however, hovered in Scourge’s mind above all his other thoughts. Amber and Fal…something. Falcon, maybe?

Amber was the leader of the Fire—the other band of town cats who lived not far from the Silver cats. She was a great she-cat, who was renowned for her brilliance and forethought. Her history traced to the founders of the Fire and Silver, cats so ancient that their names were lost to the cats. The Fire had always been lead by a line of aristocratic golden-pelted cats. But who was Falcon? Scourge was certain that Amber had children—every leader did—who would take her place when she died.

Cloud seemed to think that the story of Amber and Falcon was well known. They must have been great heroes.

The moon climbed steadily in the sky, and gradually, the noise of the monstrous human road-monsters ceased. Lights went out in the windows of the buildings, and more and more stars crept into focus as the artificial light of the townsfolk grew dimmer. Scourge’s head was aching from the amount of information he had absorbed and pondered for so long, and the shadows of his eyelids were comforting. Lulled by the infectious music of the crickets, Scourge slipped away into the depths of his night-mind, where he roamed forests of golden light, and kits cried out from every shadow, every hidden alcove.

Two hazy cats bounded side by side in the distance, pelts brushing. Scourge watched them running, and felt an urge to join them. He attempted to do so, but discovered that his paws were rooted to the ground. Annoyed, his head swung slowly down to stare them, and an echoing cry escaped his jaws. The fur on his paws and forelegs was bone-white, and his claws were bloodstained. A terrible sense of dread cascaded down into the dream-forest, and a voice rang in his ears: “Do you love her, Falcon? Would you die for her?” Blackness descended, and Scourge knew no more.

---

The first sunlight of the day drove down on Scourge in the form of a piercing golden wave, seeking him out in the corner by Lion’s den and beating down on his ruffled fur fiercely. Groaning slightly, he rolled over and wrenched his eyes open painfully, squinting in the bright light. Dirt and bits of leaves were tangled in his fur, and he sat up in confusion as the events of the night before swelled in his mind. Shaking his head, Scourge warily glanced around the clearing and crept across the Silver camp and dove into the apprentices’ den. The regular screech of human monsters was low at the moment, and no cats had stirred yet from their night slumber.

Scourge delicately picked his way around Rock and Bronze, who were snoring out a storm that could rival that of the monsters outside on the roads. Larkspur was rolled onto her back with her legs in the air, her whiskers twitching. Chuckling, the black tom curled up in his own nest and began to groom his fur. The people in this town are disgusting, Scourge decided, untangling a scrap of shiny metal rubbish from his fur. How did they ever achieve what they’ve achieved? Scourge thought savagely. They’re nothing but slobs who poison nature and destroy whatever they see as an abomination—cats from the Fire and Silver, for instance.

Grumbling mews alerted Scourge. Scanning the den with eyes opened ever so slightly, he saw Bronze roll over, facing the den entrance, and begin grooming himself. The black apprentice quickly pretended to be asleep just as Rock flipped around to gaze dreamily at Larkspur.

“What are you looking at?” Bronze’s voice sounded agitated and heavy with sleep. Scourge shut his eyes tightly and began to purr softly as if he were sleeping. He listened intently, fighting the urge to burst out laughing.

“Nothing,” Rock muttered, an edge of pleased mischief to his tone.

Bronze, sensing what his brother had been watching, sniffed indignantly. “Sorry, Rock…she’s already mine.”

“Is not!” Rock protested. “Mates aren’t chosen until we graduate to become Scavengers or Elite—”

“I know, bonehead,” Bronze meowed tauntingly, “but Larkspur likes me more.”

“Does not! She never even goes near you!”

“Does not!” Retorted Bronze.

“Does too.” Sneered Rock.

“Does not!”

“Does too.”

“Does not!”

The two brothers’ voices faded, and Scourge cautiously opened one eye, and, upon seeing that the den was empty but for the undisturbed sleeping Larkspur, crawled out of the box. The camp was now bustling with early morning activity.

The Silver cats left the camp sparingly during the morning due to the streets that were swollen with busy, careless townsfolk rushing about. Many a cat had strayed onto the roads during the morning and had been heartlessly smashed by the monsters the people built to ride around in. Not even the renowned rogue healer, Hawkthorn, had been able to save the cats mutilated by their street injuries, and had been forced to helplessly watch as they spend their last hours on earth in indescribable anguish, screaming as their ruined limbs fell useless beside them and they passed into the Great Unknown.

Scourge half-shuddered at the thought before spying the Elite warrior Havoc sitting on guard beside the camp entrance, his pale violet eyes scanning the Silver alleyway with veteran experience. Sparrow and Boulder, a couple of Scavengers, were by the food store, adding a rat and some slightly grimy pieces of discarded human meat and fruit to the small heap. Lion was calmly observing the activity in his camp with a bit of a lazy lull in his movements. Cloud sat beside him, directing a couple of Elite warriors. Scourge padded over to the two cats as the group of the Elite headed off towards the back wall.

“Scourge?”

Moonglimmer was padding towards him. Her white-gold fur was somewhat tousled, and the she-cat looked weary.

“Yes?” The black apprentice responded, trying his best to look alert and well rested. Moonglimmer’s eyes ranged over the younger cat’s small frame.

“Lion’s chosen which cats are going to the Time-of-the-Moon gathering,” she meowed, the words dragging from her throat like thorns. Her normally bright eyes were dull with lassitude.

“What happened to you?” The words spilled from Scourge’s mouth like rain from the clouds of a thunderstorm, before he considered what he was saying.

Moonglimmer’s lips twitched in a sort of half-smile. “Night guard,” she replied. “They usually make Cedar do it—I could swear he’s half-owl sometimes, he never sleeps—but he’s complaining about some sort of pain in his left eye and they gave him the night off. I can’t even begin to fathom why he likes it so much.”

Scourge chuckled.

“Anyway,” Moonglimmer continued, flicking Scourge’s nose with her tail. “You and I are both going. Lion’s also taking Sparrow, Darkness, Eagle, Larkspur, Raven, Havoc, and Rain. He’s leaving Cloud behind so she’ll guard the camp with the other Elites.”

“Guard it from what?” The black apprentice queried. “Fire cats have always been decent, honest warriors. They’ve never attacked us during Time-of-the-Moon gatherings before.”

“They did once, a long time ago,” Moonglimmer corrected, drawing out the word long. “Back before our generation, even before Lion was born. There was this one cat, a she-cat by the name of Ashwing, was the mate of the present Fire leader. She grew so jealous of the Silver leader’s mate, who was considered one of the most important cats in the town, while Ashwing was just the ‘kit-bearer’, as she thought of herself. So she took it upon herself to lead a group of her allies against the Silver while her mate was away at a Time-of-the-Moon gathering. But a strange thing happened that night, just as Ashwing’s lot was coming up on the Silver camp—Hawkthorn calls it ‘Night of the Black Moon’, when the moon just…vanishes, without any clouds or shadows to blot it out. It happened very suddenly, right in the middle of their ambush on the Silver cats. Ashwing was killed in the darkness and confusion, and the Fire and Silver were at war for a long time afterward.”

Scourge nodded, impressed at Moonglimmer’s knowledge. This piece of history stirred a memory in the black cat, and he suddenly remembered the events of the previous night. “Moonglimmer,” he meowed, “what is the story of Amber and…Falcon, I believe? I…I’ve heard it mentioned, but I don’t know what it is.”

“You’ve never heard the story of Falcon and Amber?” Moonglimmer asked, her lethargy vanishing and her eyes flying wide. “You’re either joking or dimmer than I thought, or more deaf than you appear. Don’t you listen to the senior cats of the Fire at Time-of-the-Moon gatherings? It’s their favorite tale to recount over and over. Most youngsters are unlikely to hear the whole true story, as it’s been told so many times that it’s changed over the moons.”

“Would you tell it to me?” Scourge asked hopefully.

“Not now, Scourge, I’m going to sleep before tonight,” the white-gold she-cat replied, a hint of irritableness in her voice. “Keep your ears open while you’re at the gathering, particularly before the leaders start discussing problems and events and all that other miserable stuff they think we find so interesting.”

Smiling again, she turned and flicked Scourge’s flank with her tail. “Just look out for yourself, Scourge,” she meowed quietly. “Don’t do anything rash. Lion’s been a bit too jumpy and cautious lately of the Fire cats. Something’s happened within their Clan, and he knows it. I don’t know what it is, or why he’s not telling anyone, but I have a feeling that we won’t be in the dark much longer.”

A/N: Don't beg for updates, please! I'm trying to write this story, finish up Gray Skies, Black Dawn, and manage to balance schoolwork and tests. Thanks again!

[wolverinestarlight]

awesome. That's all I have to say. ;D

[Sunsetfur]

A/N: Thanks again! Here's chapter two.

Chapter 2 . Moonrise

Sunset colored the sky with a thousand different hues of gold, orange, and rosy pink as the scarlet sun sank towards the black line of the horizon. Every leaf was lined with yellow, and the billowing streams of dying light slowly grew fainter and fainter. Night was descending quickly, and the clamor and confusion of the town shrank to a dull murmur of noise. The shadows grew longer and the streetlights sprang to life, silent sentries that lighted the sidewalks by night.

In contrast, the Silver camp alleyway was bustling with activity. The cats who had been selected by Lion to go to the Time-of-the-Moon gathering were gathering by the entry to the camp in the brick wall. Their eyes gleamed in the fading sunset-glow, tinted with the colors of fire.

Scourge was sitting stiff and upright among quietly meowing Elites and Scavengers, who were discussing news from the Fire cats. Whispers floated by him, fleeting and uneasy. Nervous, he self-consciously brushed his chest fur with his tongue several times, watching the rectangle of sky visible to him slowly turn from orange to dusky violet. Moonglimmer was nearby, chatting with two Scavengers, Eagle and Sparrow. Once in a while, the white-gold she-cat would glance over at Scourge, but always resumed talking to her companions after a few heartbeats.

As twilight fell and the first stars began to sparkle in the veil of the heavens, Lion appeared at the back end of the camp, Cloud by his side. The two cats’ heads were bent, and they conversed in hurried, low tones, casting brief glances at the assembled cats as they slowly padded over to them. When they were within two fox-lengths of the group, Lion straightened and addressed the cats.

“The night is young,” he meowed, flicking his yellow-ginger tail behind him, “but we shall start off momentarily. The Fire cats are unlikely to be there yet, and I am expecting them to come later than usual.”

“Why is that?” Called Havoc from somewhere on Scourge’s left.

Lion shook his great head. “I expect you will find out soon,” he replied evasively. “It is better that you hear it from the Fire cats. I do ask every one of you this, though: When the cats of the Fire do arrive, do not press them with questions. Wait until the gathering begins.”

Loud murmurs broke out among the cats at these words. The other Scavengers, Elites, and apprentices who hadn’t been chosen had erupted into conversation, voices laden with jealousy.

“What possibly could have happened?”

“Why isn’t he telling us?”

“I wonder if it has something to do with us in the Silver as well…”

Lion’s fur bristled, and the cats fell silent.

“Let us go,” he meowed simply, and with a nod to Cloud, he stepped forward and lead the cluster of cats through the entryway to the camp. Scourge was among the last to file out, and he followed the swishing gray tail of Larkspur underneath the wild grass and thorns and out onto the deserted street outside.

Though the sun had departed for the day, the sidewalk was still half-lit by light from windows and by the lampposts. A light breeze rustled the leaves of flowers and leaves that were harnessed by boxes and wooden fences in the yards of houses. Lion proceeded down the street, going to the right down the sidewalk. They passed silently by the porch with the table, and the streetlight that endlessly cycled between red, green, and yellow. Three streets were crossed before they reached their destination.

Like the Silver camp, the Time-of-the-Moon-Hollow was housed in an alleyway. It was between the two camps, with the Silver camp to the west and the Fire camp to the east, each three blocks away. A similar brick wall blocked the entrance, as most alleys were blocked in the town. At the center of the wall, a towering holly tree grew from the dirt in front of the wall and stretched up to spill over the edge, down into the alley behind. Its sharp, glossy green leaves were entwined and entangled in obscure patterns, and its roots ran deep and firm.

Lion paused briefly, observing the holly. Glancing behind him, his gaze swept over his cats and down the street. When the golden tom saw that the sidewalk was indeed deserted but for the Silver cats, he sprang lightly from the ground and with a flash of his claws, caught the twining fronds of holly and nimbly ascended the wall. When he reached the top, he climbed up onto the ledge that crowned the wall and beckoned for the cat who had been behind him, Havoc, to follow.

One by one, the cats climbed up the holly and disappeared behind the brick wall. Scourge looked up and down the holly, and spotted a thick branch about a tail-length over his head that was tangled with a competing ivy plant. He leaped onto it, sinking his claws into the wood and beginning to clamber up the holly. Every few heartbeats, his claws scraped against the brick, sending a quick shower of dust and grime down onto the plant and ground beneath him. When he drew level with Lion, the golden tom nodded and Scourge jumped down into the alley below.

The Time-of-the-Moon-Hollow was almost exactly like the Silver camp. Drooping cardboard boxes and old human litter had been pushed into the corners, where it was overrun by weeds and poison ivy. The stone-paved ground was cracked, and tall grass sprang up from crevices lined with soil and gravel. A rectangle of wooden planks, half-rotted and coated in peeling brown paint, surrounded a raised bed of gray soil stood in the middle of the alleyway at the far end. Three young ash trees, each about three fox-lengths in height, stretched upward towards the dark sky studded with flecks of light. The half-moon was floating in several wispy clouds lit with pale silver light. Flitting in the corners of the alleyway were elusive lightning bugs, blinking pale yellow in the gloom.

There was no sign of the Fire cats, as Lion had warned. Scourge followed Larkspur and Sparrow to the cleared area before the three trees, quietly watching the other Silver cats and Lion, who was padding up to the ashes. Nestled among them was a rough stone, water-stained and scratched, settled on the raised bed of dirt. The golden tabby sprang up and landed on the stone, sitting tall and proud, observing his cats.

Scourge’s eyes roamed the alley, traveling over every broken tin can and every blade of crumpled grass. He grew restless after several minutes, and judging by the upswing of nervous chatter around him, the other cats were becoming more and more uneasy as well. The moon crept along its heavenly path, and the shadows deepened by the minute.

A yowl sounded from behind the Silver cats suddenly, causing everyone but Lion to jump. It sliced through the air like a fang in the dark, and a great ripple passed over the assembled cats as every head turned to stare at the brick wall at the front end of the Time-of-the-Moon-Hollow.

Like the sun risen to challenge the night, a flash of gold crowned the grimy bricks, a gem amidst the dull, dusky background. A cat sat atop the wall, with flashing yellow fur that rivaled the hue of the daytime sunlight. Set like frosted sapphires in a pool of molten gold were two bright blue eyes that sparkled and caught the moonlight. Fur rippled around slender muscles as the cat leapt lightly from the wall onto the grass and littered ground below. Cats rained down after her, the scent of the Fire following them.

There was a single gasp as every cat drew in its breath simultaneously. A path parted through the throng of Silver cats as the golden-furred she-cat stepped toward Lion, who surveyed her calmly and impassively. Many cats of the Silver stared openly, but if the she-cat noticed, she gave no sign of acknowledgement. She climbed up onto the stone, sitting about a tail-length away from Lion. The Fire cats gathered on the left of the Silver cats, with a slight empty gap between them. The Silver cats had erupted into astounded conversation, and sent frequent stares at the Fire cats, who all faced the two leaders as if nothing had happened. Lion raised his tail angrily, and the Silver cats fell silent.

Several seconds of silence passed, and quite suddenly the two leaders rose to their paws. They each stuck out a foreleg and placed it in front of them, so Lion’s pale ginger paw touched the golden she-cat’s. Lion lifted his head and surveyed the cats watching, breathless and expectant.

“Cats of the Silver and Fire!” Lion’s voice rang out, resounding around the alleyway. “We gather here tonight beneath the sacred half-moon, which shines above our heads and whose light rises to combat the darkness. It is our symbol of the conquering of death, a beacon of hope to those who dwell forever in the Great Unknown. For in every shadow, there is always a speck of light to soothe it somewhere.

“Tonight we shall start this Time-of-the-Moon gathering immediately, as we have a new leader here beside me. Save your stories for later, and no cat will leave before they have met their friends and conversed to their heart’s content.”

Mews of approval sounded from various locations among the cats, but died away quickly as Lion began to speak again.

“The new leader of the Fire shall speak first,” the Silver leader continued. The two cats withdrew their paws, and the golden-furred she-cat straightened and shook her head slightly.

“I bring grave news tonight,” she began. Her voice was deeper than Scourge had expected, but had a feminine touch to it and was laced with the hum of birds and crickets in the summertime. He was transfixed by her flashing sky-blue eyes, and was even more daunted by her size: she was no larger than an apprentice, but had an aura of such power that Scourge was in wonder how such a regal cat could be so undersized.

“The renowned leader of the Fire, Amber of the Autumn Twilight, Bright Eagle of the Fire, has passed on to the Great Unknown. Hawkthorn Sunhealer was there with her, and she slipped away quietly before he could do anything.”

The she-cat fell silent, and bowed her heat momentarily. Scourge felt a stab of pity for her: Amber must have been her mother. At least she knew her mother, Scourge thought reproachfully. At least she’s got a decent background, and isn’t just some rogue plucked off the streets.

Lifting her head once more, Sundance continued, “However, I, as Amber’s eldest kit and heir, have taken on the leadership duties though I be but nine moons of age. I am now called Sundance of the Dawning Sky.”

Her words hung suspended in the air, and a wave of shock passed through Scourge’s rigid body. This ruler of the Fire is but my age?

The she-cat, Sundance, seemed pleased at the reaction these words had evoked on the assembled cats. With a higher note in her voice, she meowed, “I have taken Talon as my deputy, and he stands with me here tonight. As was promised at my birth, the Elite warrior Abyss is my mate.”

Meows of approval chorused about as two tom-cats rose and dipped their heads. One was tall and thick muscled, with a short dark brown pelt and pale green-amber eyes that darted around in his head. The other was leaner, with a more streamlined build and an unmarked black pelt that swayed and seemed to flow when he moved slightly. Scourge noticed a quick smile flash across Sundance’s face as she watched the black Fire cat, and Scourge realized that he was Abyss. Fitting name, he thought to himself as Abyss sat back down, licking his black fur self-consciously. Though he seems to be much older than she is—I’d guess he’s at least twelve moons her senior.

“Although I am prepared to take over the leadership of the Fire,” she continued, “I will continue my training until I feel I am ready to be considered a true warrior and leader.”

Scourge watched as Sundance nodded to Lion and stepped backwards slightly. She held herself gracefully, with a proud head and squared shoulders. She picked up her paws daintily, as if she were walking across a stream on very tiny stepping-stones. The only mark on her skin was a thin scar across her left shoulder, a knotted blemish on her flawless pelt, but barely noticeable amidst the swishing sun-colored fur. There was also a tiny triangular nick in her right ear, which was dark mahogany-red and hidden behind a crusty scab.

Lion’s voice rang around the Time-of-the-Moon-Hollow, abruptly silencing voices that still whispered and muttered below. “There is little to report in the Silver as well,” the golden tabby began. “Except that our queen Blacksnow has had her two kits, Wind and Dusk, and my son Blaze has become a member of the Elite.”

Appreciative whispers coursed through the crowd, and Lion surveyed the cats for several heartbeats before meowing, “If Sundance has nothing further to report….” He cast a glance at the she-cat behind him, who shook her head. “This gathering is finished.”

The two leaders stepped down from the stone and skirted the ash trees, which shuddered as they passed. They disappeared behind the stone and the wooden planks, and immediately a swell of chatter burst from the throng of cats. All around Scourge, cats rose and mingled, their ranks twisting together into a river of shadowed shapes. Friends called to friends, and the scents of the Fire and Silver became one. The swell of bright voices around him was overwhelming.

“Scourge?”

Larkspur had timidly padded up behind him, her blue eyes flicking back and forth. She looked lost among the chattering crowd of cats, moonlight and shadow captured in their fur.

“First gathering?” He asked. A flicker of pity poked at his heart—this was only his second Time-of-the-Moon gathering. All the same, he was slightly irritated by the she-cat’s shy ways—he had been hoping to learn more about Sundance from the Fire cats.

The small gray she-cat nodded.

“Come with me, Larkspur,” Scourge meowed, resignedly. Turning, he plunged into the throng, making for a group of cats nestled in a corner of the alley. Moonglimmer’s white-gold pelt shone silver in the dappled light of the spring moon, and only her back and waving tail were visible among the group.

Scourge pushed into the circle of cats beside the Elite she-cat. She purred as she recognized Scourge’s small black form next to her. Larkspur delicately slid next to Moonglimmer’s other side, and stared around her with wide, excited eyes.

There were eight or nine cats in the group, but Scourge only recognized two Silver cats, other than Moonglimmer and Larkspur—a tom with black fur and alert amber eyes called Raven, and a she-cat with a placid expression and a relaxed smile called Sparrow. Cats of the Fire were seated among them, all with bright eyes and clever, intelligent auras. There was also a cat that caught Scourge’s attention: a tom with long brown fur that was neatly groomed, but ragged around the edges. He smelt not of the Fire or Silver, but of the grass and meadows and sweet-smelling plants that the young Silver apprentice could not name. His eyes were a vivid amber-green that shone with wisdom and interest.

Scourge nudged Moonglimmer with his paw, and flicked his ears at the strange cat when he held her attention. “Who is that?”

The white-gold she-cat followed Scourge’s gaze for a moment and replied, “Ah. That is Hawkthorn Sunhealer, rarely seen among us at these gatherings. He lives with his daughter out in the wild meadows beyond the slums, near the south Forest.”

The black cat blinked. “Sunhealer?”

Moonglimmer shrugged. “It’s a custom of his family,” she explained. “His ancestors—all rogues, typically—have always been skilled at the arts of herbs and healing, so they are given their healer name by their father. Hawkthorn is called Sunhealer.”

Scourge nodded, intrigued. Hawkthorn was speaking to a Fire cat Scourge did not know, so the apprentice strained his ears to pick up their conversation. The din of the crowd behind him was too great, however, but another snatch of cheerful talk quickly drew him away from the Sunhealer.

“—always a respected and beautiful leader, of course, with a reputation as great as the very founder of the Fire! She wasn’t any petite little queen, mind you, but one of the best fighters in the Fire, a true daughter of rulers and heroes.” Scourge silently slipped away from Moonglimmer’s circle, leaving the white-gold she-cat chatting with a Fire queen.

The voice of the cat was bright, rich, and smooth, with an edge of intelligence and enthusiasm. It reminded Scourge of a fast-flowing brook on a summer’s day, or the wind in the tall grass of the fields beyond. It was obviously male. Scourge followed the sound to a group of cats near the ash trees, which was mainly made up of apprentices, with several older cats scattered in their midst. At the head of the group was a cat with a startlingly bright pelt—it was a shade that fell somewhere between orange and gold, and almost shone with the colors of flame and sunlight. He was obviously descended from the great golden cats who had founded the Fire cats long ago, as Sundance was.

There were only two Silver cats there—Havoc and Rain. They were sitting side by side, surrounded by an assortment of Fire apprentices and warriors. Everyone there was watching the flame-pelted cat with great interest. Scourge quietly sat behind a she-cat with a dappled golden pelt tinged with brown and a dark brown tom. The fire-colored cat nodded briefly at Scourge before meowing, “And you are…?”

The eyes of every cat in the group flicked to Scourge. Swallowing self-consciously, he replied, “Scourge of the Silver.”

The Fire cat nodded slowly. “I’m Fireglow.” He dipped his head to Scourge briefly before resuming his upright position and opened his mouth to continue the story.

[Sunsetfur]

A/N: Ack, my chapter is too long for the website to handle. Sorry for the double post, but it's the only way. It'll probably happen often in the future. This picks up right away where I left off.

“Amber was the daughter of Copperthorn of the White Moon, a benevolent and intelligent leader of the Fire. At birth she was promised to an Elite warrior, called Fang, who was a full thirteen moons older than her. Apparently Fang was the son of her father’s best friend, so the arrangement was reasonable and unquestioned. As Amber grew up she was known for her compassionate ways and skill at battle, a formidable enemy.”

One of the Fire apprentices interrupted. “How do you know all this?”

Fireglow watched the young she-cat with sparkling eyes. “Stories are passed down from generation to generation,” he explained. “Even though Amber lived during my lifetime. Her tale, and the tale of her two companions, is known all across the town and beyond.”

The she-cat nodded, her eyes wide.

“When Amber was about nine moons old, something happened. The events surrounding are clouded and obscure, and no cat is sure of what made Amber leave. All we know is that she disappeared shortly after becoming an Elite during a rainstorm. The young Scavenger Falcon, a quiet and friendless cat, vanished along with her. The rain washed away their scent trail, and Fang was furious. After two moons of searching the town, he led a group of his followers into the solitary street in the town where no townsfolk dwell: the slums.

“Falcon encountered Fang soon after, and was forced to kill him to save himself. He had never killed a cat in his life, and it shook him deeply and haunted him till his Passing. Fang had cornered Falcon one winter evening in the street, surrounded him with his supporters, and threatened his life if he would not tell Fang where Amber was hiding. Falcon first told Fang that Amber had perished from the bitterly cold storms that had plagued the town for weeks, and downright refused to reveal the location of her ‘grave’. Fang wasn’t fooled, and as he was about to deal the death blow to Falcon, he surprised the white tom—more than twice his size, I’ve heard—with a fighting move Amber had shown him. As Fang focused on dispatching Falcon, he brought up his back paws from behind and slashed Fang’s underbelly.

“The white warrior bled to death very quickly. Falcon left hastily, and neither hide nor hair of Fang’s was ever recovered. Only his bloodstains on the snow that winter remained, and they too faded with spring’s thaws and warmth.

“Amber had watched the confrontation between her mate and Fang from the window of the broken-down house she was hiding in. The two lived there for several more moons until Amber’s kits were born. After the two kits—Sundance, the eldest, and her younger sister Ember—were about a moon old, Amber persuaded Falcon to return to the Fire. Falcon was reluctant, afraid of what would happen to him. He feared being accused of forcing Amber away, or simply being banished again for his breaking of the Ancient Code. Finally, they returned to the Fire about five moons after they’d left.

“Of course, Amber’s father Copperthorn was not at all pleased at his daughter’s exploits, and even less pleased with Falcon. He had always been an unusually small, shy cat, and coping with the powerful leader of the Fire’s anger and mistrust was almost too much for him, for he still bore the terrible haunt of Fang’s death. Copperthorn held many councils of his eldest and wisest cats to decide what Falcon’s fate would be. They debated for several weeks, but their ceaseless arguments were suddenly halted by a new threat that had come to them—dogs.

“As far as anyone knows, there were four vicious hunting dogs that had apparently escaped from their townsfolk masters. Each was nearly three times the size of a fox and running loose in the streets. They came to live in the slums, dangerously close to the Fire camp. Many a warrior was killed in attempts to drive off the wild dogs.

“One patrol was sent out from the Fire to watch the dogs from afar, to take note of their behavior, where they lived, where they went on the street, and what they killed. They lived mostly off the rubbish the townsfolk leave in barrels, cans, and boxes near their houses, but occasionally they would bring back a dead squirrel, and once they brought back a rogue cat they had slaughtered. Amber and Falcon were both part of that group. Made up of four cats, all masters of stealth and defense, they hid out in the largest abandoned building on the street. The other two were called Azure and Blackthorn.

“Falcon, being the smallest, was sent out as a scout one evening to identify where the dogs had gone to, for their hideout had been unusually silent for much of the day. He searched the slums—the place he hated the most—for hours and hours, and the moon was setting and dawn was whispering on the horizon when he found them.

“They were waiting for him, and had trapped him between one of the abandoned houses, which is now called the Black House, and their pack in a well-planned attack formation. Falcon called for help many times, all the while desperately trying to prevent being ripped to shreds by the dogs. When they finally attacked, he was alone.

“But not helpless. Falcon fought with all the strength and valor of the ancient heroes, with the cunning of a fox and the speed of his namesake, the falcon. His improvised battle techniques worked well against the dogs, and before Amber, Blackthorn, and Azure arrived, he had put an end to one of them.

“The battle was long, and painful, and terrible. Blackthorn was killed, and much grief fueled the anger and will of the other three. Amber had killed a second dog with Azure, which took much painstaking effort and left Azure with many terrible wounds. Now only two remained, facing three furious and desperate cats.

“There seemed only one end to the fight for the three. Despair almost led to their destruction, if not for their fierce defiance of death. Defiance saved them, many a cat has said, and turned the fight around. Hatred and anger became their breath, and they redoubled their efforts and were able to kill a third dog after much painstaking effort. The last dog was gripped by terror and fled, away from the Abandoned Street, away from the cats, never again to haunt their pawsteps. It was sunrise.

“Falcon, Azure, and Amber returned to the Fire, proclaiming their victory. The cats of the Fire were astonished that four warriors had been able to defeat four terrible dogs, and finish them off with only three. They were acclaimed and praised beyond measure, and Copperthorn could no more banish Falcon than banish himself. The three heroes were given powerful names. Amber, Bright Eagle of the Fire; Falcon, Golden Wind of the Fire; Azure, Wild Tempest of the Fire.

“They lived long, and were inseparable friends until the death of Azure. She passed away quietly and unexpectedly, and she was buried by her best friends, her mate, Smoke, and her two kits, Shadow and Stream. They placed a stone the color of silver over her grave, for this stone was flecked with crystalline flecks of human craft and caught the light of moon and sun.

“Falcon was the next to pass on to the Great Unknown. He died with Amber, his mate and dearest companion save Azure, the cat who had brought him out of dark solitude, on a summer evening. The waxing moon was rising has he passed on out near the fields where Amber had given birth to their kits many moons ago. He was buried beside Azure, with a brown stone on his grave, a stone that was worn smooth by wind and water and found by travelers who passed by the forest stream away to the south. The years of fast-flowing water on its surface had worn the stone down, and carved shallow scoops and swirls in a faint pattern.

“And now Amber is gone as well. The last of the three is dead. She was quiet after Falcon’s death, for her two greatest friends had left her. Even though she was a leader, and had been for many a moon since Copperthorn died, her grief took her.

“No one is certain why the Three died, for they were young and filled with life. Many cats older than them outlived them. All anyone knows for certain is that once Azure died unexpectedly, Amber and Falcon slowly began to fail as well. Some say that their souls were bound together in an unbreakable bond of friendship and loyalty, and they are indeed the greatest trio the Fire and Silver ever saw.”

Fireglow fell silent, and bowed his head.

There was silence in the group, though the crowd of town cats still chattered and bustled around them. A strange feeling had come over Scourge—something like grief, pity, and sorrow all intertwined and wound as one sensation. He felt connected to the three heroes in a way he could not understand.

Finally one of the Fire apprentices spoke up. She was the same one who had questioned Fireglow earlier. “They really were great, weren’t they?”

“More than great,” Fireglow whispered. His voice was hoarse now, and had lost its musical, enchanting note. Remorse hung heavily on his words. “They were the greatest of heroes.”

Scourge more than agreed. “Was Amber buried with Falcon and Azure?” Somehow he already knew the answer.

Fireglow nodded, his eyes still downcast. “Next to Falcon, with a stone of the stars and sun on her grave. Now the three will be eternally together. With hope, they walk side by side forever in the unfathomable worlds of the Great Unknown.”

The flame-colored tom dropped his head, his eyes dim with an emotion Scourge couldn’t identify, and spoke no more.

After several moments of a rather uncomfortable silence, in which all the other cats in the group (Scourge included) exchanged furtive, unsure glances. Fireglow showed no signs of speaking any more, and it was a great relief to them all when the yowls of the two leaders sounded from near the ash trees.

“Cats of the Silver!” Lion’s resounding call brought a tide of Silver cats towards him.

“Cats of the Fire!” Sundance’s more gentle, yet still commanding, was answered more slowly, and the Fire cats trickled towards her. They were all gathered around their leader several moments after the Silver cats had already reached the holly-wall and had begun to clamber out of the Hollow.

Scourge’s mind was buzzing with the voice of Fireglow. He had spoken of the great Fire cats as if he as well had been one of the companions, though he could have been no more than a kit when the dog attacks occurred. Scourge could not remember such a thing happening when he was a kit.

I wish I’d known Amber, he thought wistfully.

The moon was high in the black dome of the sky when they reached the Silver camp. The stars were faint, as they always were in the town, for the lights of the townsfolk were powerful. Scourge had seen the full splendor of the night sky when he had made his journey to the fields when he first became an apprentice with Rock and Bronze.

Are they up there? Scourge wondered as he slipped into the apprentices’ den, almost snagging his head on the scraggly overgrowth. Are they walking in the skies of the Great Unknown now?

Scourge curled up in his grassy nest in the corner of the den, peering through a crack in the box’s roof. He could see a small patch of the black sky, and two faint stars. His eyes closed softly and he slept soundly, with whirling dreams of the stars and a snowbound street, where blood seeped through the pale white snow littering the streets. He looked about wildly, but was only met with wind that blasted in his face as he fell backwards into darkness.

[ghostfeather]

its wonderful!!!!!! ;D
too bad he never knew his real parents....

continue!!

[.Swiftclaw.]

This is easily one of the best fanfics on the site! ;D Along with Gathering Darkness, of course. Sunny, you are a very talented writer and I admire you. Please continue!

[Sunsetfur]

A/N: Hey all...sorry, I kept forgetting to post the next chapter and I've been really tied up with school, as well as finishing up Gray Skies, Black Dawn, which only has a few chapters to go. My faithful reviewer and friend Tiger should be putting it up sometime. I intend to take a looong break after it's finished to work on this story. Thanks for your wonderful comments! ;D ;D

Chapter 3 . Dark Leaves and Cricket Song

Scourge panted heavily, heat creeping under his fur and penetrating his skin. His blue eyes flashed, and his gaze flicked back and forth as he looked for a gap in Frostedcloud’s defenses. The pale gray-white Elite hissed and waved his tail, and before Scourge could launch his next attack, Frostedcloud leaped. Scourge nimbly darted aside just in time: Frostedcloud’s paws hit the stone where the black apprentice had been crouching a heartbeat before. Scourge drew in breath and pounced for Frostedcloud’s momentarily unprotected back, landing squarely on the larger cat’s shoulders. He yowled in surprise and furiously swung about, trying to shake Scourge off him. The black apprentice held fast, clinging to the white warrior’s fur desperately.

“And…that’s it!” Moonglimmer called from the side. “Sorry, Frostedcloud…Scourge wins this one!”

Scourge slid off Frostedcloud’s back neatly and dipped his head to the Elite warrior. Frostedcloud turned to face him, looking stunned.

“That was great, Scourge!” He meowed, staring at the young apprentice. “You keep that up and Lion’ll make you an Elite in no time! You’re a brilliant young fighter for your age.”

Scourge ducked his head. “Thanks, Frostedcloud.”

They were back at the Time-of-the-Moon Hollow. It was a broad, spacious alleyway, and was commonly used by cats from the Silver and Fire for training young cats. Since the stone ground was old and cracked, the uncut grass that grew underpaw was thick and soft and perfect for battle practice. The sun was high in the sky, but clouds lurked on the horizon, slowly creeping forward. Cool winds blew in from their direction, threatening a thunderstorm.

“I agree,” Moonglimmer put in cheerfully. She rasped her tongue over Scourge’s ear and flicked his side affectionately with her tail. “In another moon Lion will be holding a Council for your graduation along with Larkspur, Bronze, and Rock.”

The black cat grinned sheepishly. Councils were only held when apprentices became Elites or Scavengers, or when a leader had died and his heir was to assume command. They were made up of cats selected by Lion, usually because he valued their opinions or showed great shrewdness and wisdom. When an apprentice was ready to graduate, the Council was held to decide whether he should become an Elite or a Scavenger, and when a leader died, the Council gathered to give the new leader a Leadership Title.

“I have to get back to camp soon,” Scourge meowed. “Eagle and Dreamsong are taking me, Rock, and Larkspur out to hunt.”

“Good,” Moonglimmer replied. “Scavenger skills are just as important as Elite skills—you never know what you’ll become after apprenticeship. And Elites are definitely not more important than Scavengers,” she added sharply as Scourge grimaced. “What would you eat if they didn’t scour the streets and slums all day to bring back food?”

Scourge nodded reluctantly.

“Well, that’s how most young cats are,” Frostedcloud put in. “I remember the last thing I wanted when I was an apprentice was to become a Scavenger. But Scavengers learn fighting skills, too, and often take part in battles. Not every Elite marches off to fight every single battle. About half of them usually stay behind to guard the camp, and half the Scavengers go with the other Elites to fight. It’s the way of the town, so no cat feels inferior.”

Scourge felt heartened by this. Dipping his head to the two Elites, he bounded towards the holly-wall and away, back toward the Silver camp.

---

The sunset was plain—a pale sky of a hue that fell somewhere between gray, white, and blue, with pale yellow streaks near the horizon. Scourge was exhausted, having spent the morning fighting with the two Elites and the afternoon hunting through the town for food. Eagle and Dreamsong had found a discarded townsfolk shopping bag near the Abandoned Street that contained some carelessly thrown-away meat packed in curious containers covered with a thin, transparent film. Scourge had managed to catch two small mice, and Larkspur and Bronze each had a rat.

Scourge sat outside the apprentices’ den with Bronze and Larkspur, sharing the two mice and two rats. Rock observed them from a distance, for he was training with the Elite Raven nearby. Lion’s son Blaze was sitting close to Dreamsong, grooming each other and conversing in soft tones. Cloud was issuing orders to a patrol, while Lion sat lazily to her left, picking at a thrush.

“Dreamsong is so irritating,” Larkspur muttered to Bronze and Scourge, watching the light gray she-cat with something close to disgust on her face. “She thinks she’s so special, just because Blaze is her mate.”

“I know,” Scourge agreed quietly. “She-cats are strange.”

Larkspur shot him a filthy look. Hastily, he meowed, “Well, you know—the ones who’re full of themselves, like Dreamsong.”

Bronze fought hard not to laugh. Larkspur hissed at him, her light blue eyes glinting with humor.

The sun set quickly that evening, and dusk swooped down from the skies swiftly. The faint stars glimmered softly in the still spring atmosphere, and the gentle mews of Blacksnow’s kits faded as the night deepened. Scourge sat awake for a long time in his nest in the corner, Larkspur in front of him, mewing almost inaudibly in her sleep. Rock constantly scuffled the ground with his paws, probably pursuing an unseen enemy in his dreams. Bronze was the only still one, and his breathing was low and regular.

The black apprentice could see the moon rising through the gap in the roof and overgrowth. As it steadily climbed higher, he began to feel restless. His muscles twitched and his legs ached for movement, so he reluctantly rose and slipped out of the apprentices’ den. The clearing was deserted, and a thin breeze rustled the silver foil on the Tree and the dry leaves beneath it. The old garbage in the corners whispered almost menacingly as Scourge slunk past the Scavengers’ den.

Long ago, when the first leader, Silver of the Moonlit Water, first founded the Silver, the camp was planned out by her most trustworthy Elites. The Scavengers were closest to the entryway, in the bottom left corner of the camp, with the Elites across from them in the lower right corner. This was so the Scavengers, the quickest and smallest cats of the Silver, could raise the alarm to the Elites quickly, and would be able to help defend the camp. Behind the Scavengers’ den was the apprentices’ den, in the middle-left of the camp. Parallel to it on the right was the den of the Mothers, directly behind the den of the Elites for safety. At the head of the camp, close to the back wall on the left, was the Leader’s den, with the prey store across from it. The Tree was in almost the exact center of the alley, between the Mothers’ and apprentices’ dens. It was an efficient layout that had proved well planned and very effective in times of hardship.

But it also meant that it was very difficult to slip out of the camp unnoticed.

Scourge moved with the fleetness and silence of the night itself. He crept pass the Scavengers’ den, hardly daring to breathe. The silence thudded in his ears, and the smallest stirring of the leaves or a creak of the Tree made him freeze. When he finally reached the camp tunnel, he slid quietly through the broken brick and trailing ivy. A bit of gravel crunched under his paws softly, and he stood completely still, breathing swiftly and quietly.

When nothing stirred behind him, he slunk out of the tunnel and began to pad down the street, toward the streetlight and the house with the porch where he had been found eight moons ago by two Silver cats. He had often interrogated Cedar and Sparrow on how they had found him, but they both insisted that Cedar had simply saved him from starvation or trampling on the road by pure luck. Scourge believed them, but he sensed that there was more to the story. Whether Sparrow or Cedar knew, he did not know.

The black apprentice trotted over to the house with the porch, stopping beside the raised flowerbeds between the porch and the sidewalk. Bright yellow and red flowers grew tall in them, with thin stems and cup-shaped blossoms. The deeper red flowers of sorrel poked out from behind curling vines adorned with delicate white petals. A rather odd statue of a squirrel and a frog sitting on a carved wooden bench was propped up against a water-filled basin that rested on a white pole, decorated with etchings of birds and stars.

Scourge stared at the garden for a few moments, feeling the night wind in his fur and whiskers. The air was strangely silent, but cool and soft, pressing in on his fur gently. He sighed slightly, looking up at the hazy sky. He thought of the townsfolk, and how their unnatural lights had fiercely swatted away so many stars. So many stars…

But suddenly Scourge felt a change in the atmosphere. His first impulse was to spin around, but he quickly fought his instincts and listened to his head. Your pelt blends right in, bonehead, he realized. He inched his way down, pressing his belly almost to the pavement and slowly turning to face the dark street. He had sensed a movement coming from ahead, in the opposite direction of the Silver camp. Something was moving…right toward him. The black apprentice eased his way into the shadow of the marble basin, careful not to angle his eyes so they reflected the streetlight’s glow. The clouds above had hidden the moon, so the shadows were deeper and more sinister.

Scourge caught his breath as he saw a dark silhouette of a moving creature appear in a pool of blue-tinged light from the second streetlight, down the road away from the Silver camp. It was the form of a cat, with a burly figure and pale black and white fur that contrasted harshly with the shadowed surroundings. He padded along purposefully, keeping his glinting eyes fixed ahead of him and not bothering to check the scent. Scourge was downwind of him anyway, so the cat didn’t know he was there until Scourge pounced.

The black and white cat snarled with surprise as Scourge leaped from the shadows and landed on the larger cat’s back as he passed by the porch and garden. Though the intruder was larger and more muscular than Scourge, the black cat could sense that he was younger. His fear-scent flooded into the air, but defiance fueled his paws as he lashed out at Scourge. The Silver cat nimbly avoided the black and white cat’s flailing paw and slithered underneath him, clawing at his belly. The white cat hissed and attempted to kick Scourge with his hind paws, but thinking quickly, Scourge stuck out his own leg and tripped the white cat. The intruder sprawled onto the sidewalk and lay there, winded and gasping for breath. Scourge apprehensively slunk beside the white cat, watching him pant.

“Who are you? What are you doing here, at night?” He demanded.

The black and white cat’s eyes opened, and he half-grimaced, half-sneered at the black apprentice. “I could have asked you the same thing, Silver cat,” he replied coolly.

Scourge stared at him coldly. “I’m not the one lying defeated on the sidewalk,” he countered. “I am Scourge of the Silver.” For the first time, Scourge caught the stranger’s scent—the scent of the Fire.

The black and white cat didn’t reply. His breathing had become normal, but his eyes burned with anger. “If you hadn’t attacked cowering in the shadows, you’d be the one lying at my mercy.”

Anger swelled inside Scourge, and he attempted to regulate his emotions. “Don’t be so sure of yourself. It might be your downfall.”

The black and white cat exhaled sharply in exasperation. “Don’t you sound like Sundance? She’s already taken to overseeing the training of the Fire apprentices, even though she’s younger than half of us.” He pulled himself to his paws, shaking bits of rock and dust from his pale fur. Scourge’s claws tensed.

“I’m done fighting,” the black and white cat added. “Anyway, Bone of the Fire. What were you doing out here? I’ve never met anyone out here after moonrise but those nasty rogues. Horrible language.”

Scourge restrained a smile, and did his best to look stiff and skeptical. “Going for a walk.”

The black and white cat sniffed. “Yeah, right.”

Scourge’s fur bristled. “You don’t believe me?”

“Not particularly.” Bone sniffed around at the garden flowers, as if he expected to find someone else hiding there. He swung his head around suspiciously; peering into dark corners and down the street in the direction from where he’d came.

“There’s no one else here,” Scourge snapped. “I couldn’t sleep and was taking a walk. What were you doing?”

Bone growled. “None of your business.”

“It is,” Scourge persisted. “You’re in Silver territory now. I have a right to know what a Fire apprentice is doing so far from home, without any Elites to look after him.”

The black and white Fire cat stared at Scourge with venom in his eyes. The black apprentice could almost feel the hate radiating off Bone’s fur.

“I’ve been sent out to look for someone,” he said shortly, pawing the ground.

“Who?”

Bone’s eyes smoldered. “Are you like this to every cat? I pity your denmates; imagine having to live with such a nosy denmate! If you were stuck with me in the Fire, you’d be ear-less and tail-less by now.”

Scourge remained cool and impassive. “I asked you who you were looking for.”

Bone’s rage was almost overpowering. Scourge couldn’t help feeling a spark of satisfaction: he had this muscular, proud apprentice from the Fire trapped and talking, like a kit admitting his lies.

“I was…I was…sent to look for my brother,” he snarled. “Ash. He wandered off sometime in the night, and the whole camp’s in an uproar searching for him.”

Scourge stared.

Bone’s eyes dropped and he stared at the ground. Scourge could sense his rebellious pride beginning to wane. The formidable, fierce cat who looked like a seasoned Elite had been beaten down to a grief-broken apprentice, searching for lost kin.

Scourge watched Bone strangely, seeing him in a new light.

“How did Ash disappear?”

“I don’t know,” Bone replied instantly, keeping his gaze lowered. “I awoke not long ago and found him gone. He…he’s never been completely stable of mind, if you know what I mean—always a little strange, a little lightheaded. Always trying to the logical and right thing, and being a little irritating in the process. Ash was born that way. The Sunhealer said that he’d never seen anything like that, but he believes that before we were born, something went wrong.”

Scourge was silent. He had last felt this way when he had heard of Amber, Azure, and Falcon, and how their soul-deep companionship had been ruptured with the untimely death of Azure. They followed her into the Great Unknown, the darkness, the vast and unfathomable world of dream and death. Is this how Bone feels?

“You must feel as if you are responsible,” Scourge supplied tentatively.

“No!” Snarled Bone. His gaze flitted from Scourge’s face to a point over Scourge’s shoulder, away down the street in the direction of the Silver camp.

Scourge frowned. “Do you have any idea where he is?”

Bone’s tail thrashed. “Don’t talk to me like I’m a kit,” he snapped. “You’re not superior to me. And I do have some idea on where Ash is.”

“Well…?”

The black and white Fire cat looked Scourge straight in the eyes. “Do you know the way to the Forest?”

“What?”

“Ash has always wanted to go there,” Bone explained, a hint of eagerness in his voice now. “He loved to listen to stories about the Clans. He would have gone to the Forest border for his apprentice journey if more cats had wanted to go.”

Scourge hesitated. He’d never been to the Forest before, and the thought of meeting the wild, viscous Clan cats scared him slightly. He knew the way—every Silver cat did, as they lived closer to it than the Fire. It was down the street, in the opposite direction of the Time-of-the-Moon-Hollow and the Fire camp. All a cat had to do was follow the road until it left the city and wound between woodland and marshes scattered with evergreen copses. The town border was not far away from where the Silver camp was located.

“I know the way,” Scourge meowed finally. “It isn’t too far from here. You must follow me, and make no sound.”

“Of course,” Bone meowed at once.

Breathing deeply, Scourge turned and padded down the sidewalk, back towards the brick wall that concealed the Silver camp. He walked right by it without so much as a glance at the vines and thorns that snaked their way up the wall, feeling Bone’s presence close behind him. He led the Fire cat down the sidewalk for several more blocks, watching the moon sink slowly in the sky. It was hovering below the horizon when the houses finally came to an end.

The road now extended into open countryside, without sidewalks, houses, streetlights, or gardens. A tall wooden fence separated the outermost houses from the Forest, where the dark trees loomed up against the indigo-black sky, fearsome and intimidating. To the right of the road lay a boggy marshland, criss-crossed by thin streams. Tall grass and bushes tangled together around water-worn stones, and short trees clustered together in small groups of four or five.

Scourge stood where the sidewalk ended, peering around the fence. The trees and marshland stretched away as far as he could see. Turning to Bone, he murmured, “Can you scent him?”

Bone opened his jaws and drew in the scents around him. Frowning, he bounded to the other side of the street, searching for his brother’s smell. Finally, on the opposite sidewalk, he cried, “It’s here! Ash’s scent does lead directly to the trees.”

The black apprentice sighed with relief. Let’s hope he’s not far so we can get out of here quickly, he thought.

Bone slowly padded in an irregular line, crossing the street diagonally so he was standing just outside of the fence, in front of Scourge. “Yes,” he murmured. “Ash came over here…and then he went forward.” Bone advanced several fox-lengths, drawing even farther away from the town border. “And he kept walking…until…” Bone gasped.

“What is it?” Scourge meowed quickly.

“He…caught something,” Bone whispered, astonished. “There’s a dead rabbit here with his scent all over it. It’s got a bite mark in its neck.”

Scourge scampered over to where the black and white cat stood, forgetting his reluctance to leave the safety of the town. The trees’ shadows loomed over him as he stared at the small bundle of light brown fur before Bone.

“I’ve only ever seen rabbits in the fields,” Scourge murmured. “There are never any in the town. He must be a great hunter.”

“He is,” Bone replied softly. “He never wanted to be an Elite. Just a Scavenger, so he could hunt in the streets and fields all day.”

Scourge uncertainly placed his tail-tip on Bone’s shoulder. “You will find him,” he assured the white Fire cat. Bone shrugged and slipped away, still following Ash’s scent.

“He kept going…” Bone murmured, traveling down the road. Scourge peered through the trees, catching a glimpse of a cluster of smooth, sand-colored boulders piled around a clearing several fox-lengths away from the road.

Bone stopped suddenly. “The scent’s gone.”

Scourge caught his breath. The moon had nearly disappeared. “Did he cross the road?”

Bone bounded across the hard black surface, scampering around the other side where the marshes were, trying to detect the scent again. “Nothing,” he called back, distraught.

The black cat’s heart thumped. “Maybe…er…did he go into the forest?” Scourge attempted to catch the scent, scuffling the grass and dead leaves near the trees close by. There was no trace of the Fire cat. Bone returned to the forest side of the road, terrible concern etched into his face.

“He must be here,” Bone meowed fiercely. “His scent can’t just disappear.”

Scourge’s apprehension grew at these words. “What of the Clan cats?” He meowed uncertainly. “You don’t think…” Scourge trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

“I hope not,” whispered Bone. “Those wild cats are terrible, terrible murderers. All they do is fight each other for more territory and prey. For them, enough is never enough. The luxury of the wild had spoiled their minds for generations.”

“They are killers,” Scourge added. “Greed has been their nature for years. It’s probably corrupted them all, making them more violent and wary. Moonglimmer once described them to me—fights over nothings, unneeded death and bloodshed. Out there it’s kill or be killed, hunt or starve.”

Bone drew a shaky breath. “Great.”

[Sunsetfur]

The two were silent for several moments, listening to the before-dawn breeze rustle in the marsh grass and the crickets hum sleepily from all around. Suddenly an idea struck Scourge.

“Bone,” he meowed quickly. “Back there a bit I saw these boulders, in a clearing in the Forest. The scent of the road must extend a bit, and it could cover up other scents. What if Ash wandered over to those rocks? The road’s scent and the Forest’s scent might have covered Ash’s scent.”

“Brilliant!” Bone meowed in excitement. He bolted back towards the town, Scourge behind him. He turned right into the trees, and Scourge followed, the leaf litter feeling strange under his paws. A thorny frond snagged his fur and Scourge hissed in irritation. The boulders were just ahead now, and the two apprentices emerged into the clearing swiftly and silently. The pale yellowish rocks were bathed in the dying moonlight, and tall fronds of fern sprouted in large clusters around them. Springtime violets poked up from the ground, their rich purple petals like specks of the night sky against the lighter grass. The powerful stench of the road had lessened slightly.

Scourge’s pale blue eyes roamed the clearing, peering into the shadows of the rocks, trees, undergrowth, and everything else that loomed out of the Forest’s gloom. Bone padded around one of the boulders, calling his brother’s name softly.

“Ash? Ash? Are you there?”

Silence.

Bone reappeared on the other side of the boulder, his amber eyes bright with concern. “Where could he be, Scourge?”

Scourge stared around meekly.

Bone sighed. “I don’t think he came this way, Scourge. He must have gone back to the town.”

“No,” Scourge whispered under his breath. “He’s here. He’s hiding. I can feel it.”

“What?” Bone hissed. “What did you say?”

“Shhh!” The black cat’s ears strained against the night air and the chirp of the crickets. There was the rustle of the air, he quiet breathing of Bone. “I need silence here, Bone.”

Bone held his breath, and so did Scourge. And this time, the Silver cat heard something else. A faint, quick intake of breath that wasn’t from Bone. Was that the whisper of controlled breathing?

Scourge stood bolt upright, his eyes flickering to his left. Stealthily, he crept ever so slowly toward one of the smaller boulders on the left end of the clearing. Beneath it was a small dip in the ground, with just enough room for a small cat to crouch. Scourge thought he saw the flicker of gray fur and the flash of a pair of frightened eyes before he lashed out with his paw into the hole. His felt his pad strike something soft, and a voice yelped, “Ouch!”

“Ash?” Bone bounded up behind Scourge.

“Come out,” Scourge urged. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

“But you just did!” Whined a voice. A pair of amber eyes flashed from the shadows and a ragged gray cat slipped out of the dip. His eyes had a distant look in them, and his fur was matted and streaked with dirt.

“My claws weren’t out,” Scourge snapped. “Anyway, you’ve caused the whole of the Fire a nice load of trouble, not to mention your brother here. What made you do it?”

Bone shot Scourge a worried look. Ash gazed defiantly at the Silver apprentice.

“I came to see the Clan cats,” the gray Fire cat replied defensively.

Scourge fought not to shout, “Bonehead!”

“Ash,” Bone meowed slowly. The black and white Fire cat stepped forward and looked his brother straight in the eye. Amber eyes met amber eyes as Bone meowed, “Why did you leave?”

“I just said, didn’t I?” Ash mewed back. “I wanted to meet the Clans, and I knew Sundance would never allow it, so I snuck off when no one was looking.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Scourge spoke softly, trying his best to sound calm and not like a patronizing she-cat. “It was unwise to go wandering at night, alone, without telling anyone. I’m sure someone would have taken you to the Forest border sometime. Anyway, these wild cats will rip your throat out as soon as they look at you. They’re not like the town cats.”

Ash sighed. “I thought all cats were the same.”

“Well, they’re not,” Bone meowed. “Scourge’s right.”

Ash stared at Scourge in confusion. “Wait—you aren’t from the Fire. Who is he, Bone?”

“He’s Scourge, from the Silver.”

“The Silver?” Ash’s already widened eyes nearly burst out of his head.

“Yes,” Scourge meowed uncertainly. He wasn’t sure what to say to this cat, after what Bone had told him about Ash’s mental instability. Swallowing, he added, “We should get back, Bone. Dawn’s coming fast.”

“You’re right.” Bone leaped away, back towards the road. Scourge followed, beckoning to Ash with his tail. The gray apprentice followed uncertainly; he walked with a strange, lopsided bounce in his step.

Bone led the way back to the town alongside the road. Once they had passed the fence and had entered the town once more, Scourge’s sense of security returned. This was his home territory—the place he knew and trusted. Glancing back at the dark Forest, Scourge winced at the treacherous trees that had twisted the Clan cats and anchored greed in their hearts.

What if the Founders had settled there? Scourge wondered. Would the Clan cats have settled in the town? Or would they have gone to the fields? Would I be part of…a SilverClan? He resisted the urge to snort. No. We would never have turned out like those Clans. All they care about is blood and battle. We at least have a sense of honor and duty in the town.

The brick wall of the Silver camp drew near. “Go on,” Scourge heard Bone murmur to Ash. “You know the way home. And don’t try to run off again, because we’ll know where you’ve gone this time. And I guarantee that I’ll return with a pawful of Elites and Sundance.”

Ash nodded, a strange smile on his face. Bone watched him pad away toward the streetlight before turning back to Scourge.

“I still can’t believe we met fighting,” the black cat meowed lightly. Bone grinned.

“Let’s forget that,” he meowed. “Anyway, I’m sure you know that I would never have found Ash without your help, and he’d probably be sliced up into little pieces by now by those Clan cats.”

“He probably would be,” Scourge commented, looking thoughtful.

Bone’s grin widened. “Thank you, Scourge.”

The black and white tom nodded to Scourge before turning and briskly padding after his brother. Scourge shook his head without really meaning too, watching Bone’s tail flick from side to side. He finally turned and slipped under the brick wall and into the Silver alleyway.

Do those Clan cats really sleep out in the open? He wondered as he soundlessly crept into the apprentices’ den and slid into his nest. The comfortable boxes we have are probably better than the bushes the Clans live in.

The dawn was approaching, and the dark sky was already lightening to a gray color. Scourge would not sleep long. Moonglimmer would wake him in a few hours for training. Cloud would probably want to oversee him today. Do the Clans have cats like them? He thought briefly, his mind slipping away. No. Their lifestyle is nothing like ours. And it never will be. As a final thought, he threw in, Thank the Founders I’ll never have to be like them.

A/N: Thanks again for reading and reviewing, especially to Swiftclaw, Wolverinestarlight, Lightningstrike, Mossleg and Ghostfeather! Critique is welcome.

[ghostfeather]

great chapter! ;D
I can't imagine how Scourge ends up leader of Bloodclan.
i guess i'll have to wait and see!

post again soon ;D

[.Swiftclaw.]

Wow!!!!! This is AMAZING so far!!!!!!!!!! ;D ;D ;D ;D
Please post soon!

(BTW, I love your avvy! XD)