Slave to the Grave }{ Woohoo! First Epic!

[Bloodmoon]

Title: Slave to the Grave
Chapters: Many, suffice to say.
Author: Bloodmoon (Me)
Pairing: None.
Rating: PG-13 (I'll put the, erm, "unrated" version up somewhere else if anyone wants.
Summary: Four more Clans - MountainClan, LakeClan, ValleyClan, and GraveClan - rest on the other side of the twolegplace. And internal dissension, strange prophecies, and ancient reincarnations are threatening to destroy some of them forever.
Warning: Very graphic. It'll only get worse, so if the violence in the prologue bugs you, just stop reading now.
Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors. However, I created MountainClan, LakeClan, ValleyClan, and GraveClan, as well as all the characters in them, so if you wanna use them in your own fan-fiction, ask me first and I'll give you a thumbs up (probably).
Beta: Huh?
Cover: None yet, maybe later.

~ Prologue ~

[/b]

A dirty, battled-scarred she-cat padded roughly down the paved footpath of a twoleg park, eyes narrowed to imposingly dark slits. Her wiry dark-brown fur glistened with midnight dew in the glow cast by the towering twoleg light-makers that dotted the path. Before her rested the twolegplace, a massive network of crisscrossing streets built around hundreds of twoleg nests, and behind her lay a trail of slain rogues who had tried to stop her from proceeding.

She reached the end of the park and quickly crossed the thunderpath that lay ahead. Upon reaching the other side, she turned sharply, walked a few tail-lengths, and veered off into an alley. Waiting for her near the front was a large, tabby tom-cat with a fiber-like collar studded with cats' teeth. He eyed the she-cat dangerously as she stepped toward him. "Ah, there you are at last," he growled. "Scourge has been so anxious to see you again. He told me to wait here for your arrival."

The she-cat sat down in front of him. "The sooner I speak to that worthless brother of mine, the better," she meowed back with vehemence. "Ever since he formed his Clan, he's been nothing but trouble for mine."

The tabby tom grunted, perhaps trying to seem threatening. Then he said, "Right this way, I think you'll... hold on, you aren't alone!" His eyes flashed back to the entrance of the alley, where another cat was sitting barely visible in the shadows.

"My deputy, Skullstorm, is with me, yes," admitted the she-cat. "I know, Scourge wanted me to come alone, but if he thinks I'm that stupid, then he might as well forget everything else that happened before he left us as well."

"I'm sorry," said the tom, sounding remarkably unsorry, "but we're going to have to keep him here."

The she-cat snorted. "I'd like to see you try. Come, Skullstorm..." She pushed past the tom without another word, followed by the heavy pawsteps of her deputy. As she moved deeper into the alley, the found that several other cats had apparently been expecting her. They all peered at her fiendishly from their dark nooks and crannies, narrowed eyes burning with suspicion and unease. Even the kits, plastered with grime, seemed wary of her presence. She ignored them, she didn't fear any of these foolish whelp. Their pathetic trophy-collars were their most laughable features, especially since she knew for a fact that her brother collected most of the teeth from cats and dogs he found already dead.

And then, Scourge appeared. At the end of the alley was a massive stack of filthy wooden crates, long fallen into disuse for the twolegs. The BloodClan leader slithered lethally out of the very highest one and leaped to the ground, landing with almost pathetic grace. He was small, but undeniably dangerous. Although there was something - perhaps their family ties - that made him quite unintimidating to the she-cat.

"So you've arrived at last," said Scourge. "Not alone, it smells like. Hm, that's just like you, still incapable of following simple direct-"

"You requested an audience with me, little brother?" interrupted the dirty she-cat, sitting in front of Scourge.

"Er - I, I did," said Scourge. He too sat, childishly hating his sister inside for mentioning that she was born first. He cleared his throat before continuing. "As you should know from your previous attempts to raid the twoleg rubbish place, my Clan is thriving... much unlike you expected, no doubt."

The she-cat snorted, unimpressed. "Judging by what I can see, you and I have two very different definitions for the word 'thriving'..." she taunted. "Oh, why ever did you leave our family? I joined GraveClan and now we're unstoppable!"

"I left because of all of that StarClan foxdung you so misguidedly clung to!" growled Scourge violently, his fur rising. "All the false prophetic apparitions you tried to force on me! I wanted to show you all - especially you, Wormstar - that I could be a great leader without the aid of imaginary ghosts!" He paused, then seemed to settle down, the fur on his neck flattening a bit. "But, that's... that's not even the point..."

"Then what is the point, Scourge?" asked Wormstar, impatiently waving her tail. "Have you called me here simply to brag about this brainless gaggle of rogues you miscall a Clan? Or complain about my religion? Or is there something worth listening to that you want to say? Because if not, I have my deputy with me, and he would be most displeased if you forced me to interrupt him and his mate for nothing..."

"It just so happens, I do have an important proposition for you," said Scourge, struggling to control his temper. "As I said, my Clan is thriving. We have more queens and kits now than ever before. And we're beginning to feel a bit... boxed in. Bone, perhaps you'd like to take it from here?"

He gestured for the massive black-and-white tom behind him to step forward. Bone walked up beside his leader, sat, and spoke in a loud, clear growl. "Our alley is overpopulated - BloodClan cannot provide for it's less capable members with the sudden scarcity of prey. We've called you here to negotiate for a portion of GraveClan hunting territory..."

Wormstar snorted again, but this time, in amusement. "Did you hear that, Skullstorm?" she meowed. "They want a bit of our land for hunting!"

Skullstorm lumbered out of the shadows for the first time that night. Bone might have been huge, but Skullstorm was monstrous - the brown-and-black GraveClan deputy towered over every cat in the alley, and made them all (except for Wormstar) look like terrified little kits. He looked at his leader, then back and forth between Scourge and Bone. Bone looked a little nervous, but Scourge didn't even seem phased.

"So this is your deputy..." said the BloodClan leader boredly. "Well, as Bone said, we're prepared to negotiate, and I think you'll find the circumstances quite... oh, shall we say, influential..."

"You may be wondering what we could possibly have that you would want bad enough to exchange for territory..." said Bone. "Well, the answer is - lives."

Wormstar waited as her brother and and his deputy chuckled at something. Then Scourge straightened up and, in a much louder voice than before, meowed, "Now listen up! You will relinquish a portion of territory to us! If you do not, we will come in and take it ourselves, by force! And I warn you, no one has ever defeated BloodClan! Those who oppose die by our claws!"

Wormstar burst out laughing. Even Skullstorm let out a few devilish chuckles. "Oh, some negotiations! Take it by force, will you?" meowed Wormstar. "You and what army?"

Scourge growled. "Well, I was thinking... this army." He motioned with his tail. And then, from seemingly everywhere, cats began to pour into the alley, emerging from the shadows - out of grates, out from under dumpsters, out of garbage cans... all over. By the time it was done, Scourge was surrounded by fifty or more allies - all of them looked dirty and mean, ready to kill at his command.

For the first time in the alley, something that could have been worry flickered on Wormstar's face, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone. "Ah, this army..." she said. "Well, what is this filthy symphony of mews composed of?" Her eyes narrowed. "You there! Where do you come from?"

She was pointing with her nose to a fat, powerful, scarred gray tom near the front. He didn't answer, so Skullstorm took a threatening step toward him - that got him talking. "M-my name is... well, my new name is Split..." he began, nervously eying Wormstar's deputy. "I am from twolegplace... I belonged to the twolegs, long ago."

"I see," said Wormstar. "And how did you come upon my brother's Clan?"

"I was... bullied..." admitted Split. "By the other kittypets. Scourge offered me a chance to get revenge."

Wormstar nodded, noting with satisfaction the embarrassed look on Scourge's face. Then she turned to another cat, an old female near one of the alley walls. "And you... what sad tale have you to tell? What's your name, what's your story?"

The she-cat glanced at Skullstorm, then began. "My n-n-name is Root," she stuttered. "I was a l-loner, barely living, before Scourge found me and mercifully offered m-me food and shelter in return for my loyalty."

"Humph," said Wormstar. She shook her head with a grin and turned to a muscular tom that sat upon an overturned trash can. She called, "You look strong, what have you got to say?"

"I am Moss..." said the cat. "I was a rogue mercenary, killing in exchange for meals, for I was no hunter. Finally, I settled down in -"

But Wormstar didn't even wait for him to finish. She chose another cat, a very small, very young she-cat that appeared to be hiding behind the others. "Come out, young one! Who are you?"

"I... I am one of Scourge's many daughters..." squeaked the little cat nervously. "I've always been here, please..."

Wormstar faced Scourge again. He looked absolutely mortified. "Well, little brother," said the GraveClan leader, "you certainly have a sizable fighting force... one that may seem dangerous... at first. You have many allies, Scourge, but how many warriors? Can you tell me that? Very few, I'd wager..."

"SILENCE!" roared Scourge, his fur standing on end. If there was one person who could make him lose his temper, it was his sister. "Enough of your foolishness! I've had enough! Moss, destroy her!" The big mercenary called Moss leaped off of his trash can and lunged at Wormstar.

Wormstar's claws flashed - bizarre claws, they were, unnaturally long and strong and sharp - they soared through the air just as Moss reached her. Every cat in the alley watched in silence as Wormstar's claws tore a sizable chunk of Moss' face from his skull and sent it soaring - one of his eyes, an ear, a lumpy mound of meat, and a long, trailing stream of nervous tissue. The attack had actually pierced Moss' brain. The mercenary went down, blood spurting from the wound like water over a fall.

Wormstar licked the blood off of her claws before speaking. "If you and your silly gang of idiots want our land - you'll have to come and get it!" She and Skullstorm turned and departed the alley. Not a single cat followed them. They didn't dare.

When they had disappeared into the shroud of night, Scourge looked at the body of Moss, his former ally.

"Oh, Wormstar, you will pay for this insolence..."

[(*~Flamestar~*)]

One word: Woah. This is pretty good, you gota contiue this!! Later.

[ya]

Yeah, seriously, where'd the forums go?

[warmheart]

wow .... absolutley wow ............ please continue this is amazing!

[Bloodmoon]

Some more prologue stuff!! Enjoy!

~ Prologue, Part II ~

[/b]

That night, far from the scene of Moss' death...

It was a frigid night in leaf-bare. Dark clouds rolled and tossed overhead, puffed and swollen with snow, and the earth below shivered in the chilling breeze, enveloped in darkness. It had been like this for a while, but the weather showed no indication of relenting. Frost gnawed at the paws of a singular cat as he made his way back to his den, carrying in his jaws a cold piece of prey that had been stored in the little pile at the edge of his Clan's camp. It smelled like a mouse, but he hadn't bothered to stop and choose something in particular - it was just too cold to stay out for very long.

He reached his den, which was a shallow burrow beneath the twisted roots of an ancient tree, and quickly crawled inside, eager to escape the elements. He gasped in surprise and dropped the prey when he found that another cat had come into his den in the short time that he had been gone. "Oh! Viperstar!" he said. "Er... forgive me, I wasn't expecting you tonight."

"I told you I would come, did I not?" replied Viperstar, lifting a paw to lick.

"Well, you did, but I just assumed you meant in the morning," replied the first cat. "Again, forgive me for not being here to greet you, I just popped out for a piece of fresh-kill. I haven't eaten in a while..."

"It's fine, really, Vineheart," said Viperstar, placing her paw back on the ground. "I just wanted to see how our little survivor was doing. Very well, it seems..." She turned her gaze to the back of Vineheart's den, where a most unusual newborn kit was sleeping, nestled in a soft bed of moss. His tiny flank rose and fell with every breath he took, but no others breathed around him. No littermates, no mother, no father.

"A truly sad beginning for any kit," sighed Vineheart sadly, joining his leader in watching the newborn. "I truly wish I could have saved them... the prophecy said nothing about this…"

"No medicine cat has ever saved all of their patients," condoled Viperstar. "Death is, after all, inevitable. I'm sure the kit will do fine growing up."

"But he’s without a mother to guide him!” said Vineheart. This was true – the kit’s mother had contracted a crippling case of Silvercough just days before she delivered him. During the delivery, the stress and sickness and pain had overwhelmed her exhausted body, and she died.

“But he has all of the Clan for that,” said Viperstar, “and I’m sure Sparrowfeather would be more than willing to nurse him in his mother’s stead. After all, she'd be proud to care for her friend's kit, especially knowing he's a hero.”

Vineheart shuffled nervously. “But… but Viperstar… what of the prophecy? You remember what it said: ‘A kit born of the sun's visage, the reincarnation, shall arrive, and with him, a great doom – if he falls, so shall the world around him'. Don’t you think that may frighten the Clan?”

“We won’t tell the Clan,” snapped Viperstar, looking at Vineheart sternly. "We aren’t even sure if he is truly the cat the prophecy speaks of!”

“Look at him, though,” said Vineheart. “The color of the sun! He’s not just golden, he’s bright yellow! And there’s an undeniable air of… power… around him. I mean, it’s more than a bit convenient that his mother died of sickness while birthing him, and all his littermates came out dead, yet he managed to arrive in perfect health.”

Now it was Viperstar who sighed. “Oh, I suppose you’re right, as always, my friend…” she breathed. “But still, the Clan doesn’t need to know of the prophecy, not just yet. Let him lead as normal a life as possible before we throw him headfirst into destiny. We must keep him well looked after.”

Vineheart nodded slowly in agreement. Then he said, "Er, not to doubt his future capabilites, but I don't suppose he'll be saving us alone?"

"Of course not," said Viperstar, moving toward the entrance of the den. "He'll have friends to aid him, his mentor to guide him, and the whole Clan at his side. We needn't worry yet. Goodnight, my friend." She left the den and padded off to her own.

Vineheart turned back to the kit, such a strange little thing, such a bizarre pelt. And such a burden, carrying the future of his Clan on his shoulders, unaware of the role he was to play in their history. Yes, it would be better if no one knew of this until the time came. He needed to grow up away from the pressure and predestined fame. "Sun... Sunkit..." said Vineheart. "You are Sunkit. Tomorrow, you shall meet the Clan, and they shall know your story in due time. If you are truly the reincarnation, then I will do all in my power to help you. Sunkit... Sunkit..." Echoing the name quietly, he curled up around the tiny body and drifted to sleep.

~*~*~*~

[roaringbelly]

I was thinking about using the name MountainClan as a name too. Freaky much?

[pondClaw]

Woah! Really good story Bloodmoon!!

[Bloodmoon]

Roaringbelly - Hmmm, yeah that's bit strange... lol
p.s. cool name

Pondclaw - Thank you!!! And I like your name too, sounds like something you'd find in LakeClan.

Hope you guys check back, I WILL be adding more!!

[Bengalblood]

I LOVE this story. Please, please write more, I'm already sucked into it. wow

[Flowerclaw]

Bloodmoon? From Ww? It's me Flowerclaw! Yayz! I love your story.

[;R.o.c.k.y.w.a.v.e;]

Great story Bloodmoon, wow! Except...that nervous tissue part disturbed me a tad...oh well, I can stand it.

[Autumnstorm]

Awesome! I love it! Please continue!

[Chapter 1]

Hey Flowerclaw! How's it goin'? lol

Rockywave - hey I warned you, kiddo. lol Actually, in Chapter 2 or 3 it's gonna get even worse

Speaking of Chapters...





After much waiting, here it is!!!! Chapter 1!!!!!! Enjoy!!!!




~ Chapter One : Many Moons Later ~

At the edge of the forest, in the center of a homely little clearing, the cats of MountainClan dwelled as they had done for many a century. It was an old, safe place with surrounding brambles and holly bushes, flanked snugly on three sides by thick forest - the final side, facing east, overlooked a vast, green meadow, dappled with vibrant patches of pink and white where wildflowers thrived in particular abundance. The scene, as always, slept peacefully in fading golden light as the mid season sun descended behind the horizon, leaving the encampment to languish under cover of yet another interminable, navy-tinted night.

And suddenly, the clearing was alive with noise. A great, hissing mess of sound as two apprentices tumbled into the camp, interlocked in a violent ball of dust and flying fur. The larger of the two apprentices, a brown tabby tom with long hind legs, was beneath the smaller, a tom with solid golden fur from ears to tail-tip, desperately trying to fling him off and get a good swipe in. But the golden cat would not relax his grip.

Alarmed, the other Clan cats rushed from their dens to see what was amiss. The queens stood growling at the entrance of the nursery, beneth a thicket of holly and hazel, and the warriors rushed out, claws unsheathed. What they found made them groan and sheathe their claws again. One of them called for the leader.

Viperstar was there in an instant. She took one look at the two tussling apprentices and shouted, "Frogpaw! Sunpaw! Stop that this instant!" So loud and furious was her command that the apprentices froze in a ridiculous position. There was a tense moment of silence, all eyes in the clearing focused on Sunpaw and Frogpaw - but it was broken when Frogpaw's legs gave way beneath Sunpaw's weight and he tumbled to the ground.

"Sorry..." mumbled the tabby apprentice.

"I should hope so!" roared Viperstar, making the apprentices cringe. "I don't know what to do with you two, I really don't! Always, always you fight each other, when you should should be training and playing! This is, how many times this moon, now? Four, five? What were you even fighting over? Answer me!"

Sunpaw shuffled nervously to his paws. He knew this would happen, he knew that if he attacked Frogpaw again that he would get in so much trouble, but he couldn't help it. He was quick to lose his temper when others clawed at sensitive subjects of his past, especially Frogpaw, who wasn't even very nice to start with. Growing up, Sunpaw fought through many troubling scenarios. It was with stifled pain that Sparrowfeather would patiently explain to him that, although she nursed him, she was not his mother. Growing up without a family had been hard, and confusing - he tried not to think about it, but there were instances where he couldn't help but feel a bit lost. He sometimes watched kits playing in the nursery or mothers proudly cleaning their babies after they caught their first spider, and suddenly it would crash over him, a rush of loneliness and unfamiliar longing, and he would have to leave camp to cry alone. But Frogpaw wouldn't let him forget it. That was one wound he felt the incessant urge to prod.

Sunpaw bowed his head with fear and respect as he tried to explain to Viperstar. "I... I attacked first, Viperstar... he i-insulted my mother -"

"I did not!" spat Frogpaw, regaining his balance.

Instantly, all the rage that had caused Sunpaw's attack flared up in him again. "You said that you were GLAD she was dead, you liar! She -"

"She helped kittypets! Kittypets!"

"A wounded kit, you idiot! It's mother couldn't figure herbs out! You wait till you have kits and one gets wounded, then you'll see. Assuming you don't EAT them first -"

"Enough!" growled Viperstar, infuriated. Both apprentices fell silent again. Sunpaw was trembling, hollow with frustration and hate. Of course, Viperstar wouldn't understand, she never understood, none of them did. They grew up with families, they had brothers and sisters to have fun with, but not him. No pain they ever knew compared to that which he felt. A perfect life, he could have lived a perfect life, but death wasn't about to wait for him. Graypaw was nice about it, but that didn't mean he understood. And Starpaw lost a father, but at least she had known him...

"Your mentors will have something to say about this, you know," Viperstar babbled. "I can't believe you two, I just can't, fighting like kits! Frogpaw, you should stop looking for trouble, and Sunpaw - oh, where do I begin? I expect so much more from you than what... oh, it's useless. You two - everyone - get back to your routines, I'll let your mentors decide what to do with you when they return."

She turned sharply and went back to her den. The crowd dissolved until Sunpaw was left sitting alone (he saw Frogpaw shoot him a hateful glare before departing). Again. Every time they fought, every time they were punished, each would pretend it was the other's fault, when they knew they should be blaming nobody but themselves. Nine moons (had it really been that short a time?) of life, and Sunpaw still hadn't learned his lesson. And now came the punishment... oh, what would Mistflower make him do this time?

He supposed he was lucky as far as mentors went, however. Mistflower was a great warrior, kind and caring, but fairly strict, quick to stomp on his tail if the stepped out of line. Frogpaw had not been so fortunate - he was stuck with Stonejaw. Stonejaw was possibly the greatest fighter in the forest, but he hated apprentices - he was a huge, no-nonsense, bones-into-dust mega-warrior of sorts, with thick, black and brown fur that curled like tendrils of flame. In fact, he was the reason that Frogpaw hated Sunpaw - if Frogpaw had been named an apprentice one day earlier, he would have gotten Mistflower as a mentor, but Sunpaw beat him to the lineup. Now they were constantly at each other's throats.

"Sunpaw!" A voice from the direction of the apprentices' den made him turn around. Trotting toward him was Graypaw, his very best friend since kithood.

"Badgerpaw told me that you got into a fight with Frogpaw... er, again..." said the gray tom, taking a seat. The shiny, black v-shaped mark on his head reflected the light of the stars.

"I hate him!" said Sunpaw. "He's always talking about my mother like she wronged him somehow! Just because I got the mentor he wanted."

"Well, I dunno, maybe getting stuck with... ugh, Stonejaw for a mentor does that kind of stuff to you," suggested Graypaw. "I mean, that's a lot to live up to. And enough people think he's a stuck-up dirt-eater as it is, so -"

"Whose side are you on?" asked Sunpaw, but it was in good nature. "Anyway, it doesn't matter now, all I have to worry about now is what Mistflower is going to do to me. Last time, I had to crunch the fleas off of Acornfur..."

"Yeah, and Stonejaw made Frogpaw swallow a dock leaf covered in mouse bile," pointed out Graypaw. "You shouldn't be complaining. Come on, let's get some sleep, Starpaw will wonder where I've gone off to." He accentuated the word "Starpaw" slightly as he spoke - he knew that Sunpaw had funny feelings for the beautiful silvery apprentice, and any mention of her in a situation would boost his disposition for it considerably.

And it was true - hearing her name tempted Sunpaw. But he knew he was in deep trouble, and he couldn't stand waiting until morning to receive his punishment. "Er, no thanks, Graypaw," he said. "I'll just wait here for Mistflower's patrol to get back."

Graypaw sighed. "Well, do you mind if I wait with you? Pinepaw's snoring loud enough scare a twoleg monster. There are probably cats in LakeClan having nightmares about him right now."

So the friends waited, not talking much, but it made Sunpaw feel better just to know that there was a friend beside him. It was a sort of silent comfort, which Graypaw knew, and he liked to use it to get Sunpaw's spirits up. The night wore on, and eventually, Mistflower returned with her patrol, which consisted of her, Stonejaw, and two more warriors, Blackbite and Rivertread, the latter being Clan deputy. Sunpaw admitted to his actions, and Graypaw slithered from the scene, back to the apprentice's den under the fierce glare of Rivertread (who happened to be his mentor).

Viperstar watched from her den. Oh, what would she do? Such a dear, sweet young tom, Sunpaw, and the prophesied "reincarnation" no less, but he was so quick to lose his temper, a sign of weakness in any warrior. If he really was to save them one day, he needed to control himself. That much went without saying. He would want all the Clan behind him, but his rowdy outbursts might just prevent that. For nine moons, Viperstar watched him grow, kept a close eye on him, waiting for whatever doom there was to befall the Clan, but... none came. So strange, why should StarClan give such a long warning before the coming of such disasters?

The MountainClan leader sighed and turned around. She was about to curl up in her nest and go to sleep, when Vineheart appeared at the entrance to her den. "Viperstar!" he said urgently. "It's about Sunpaw..."

"He's like a son to you, I know," said Viperstar. "Don't worry, Mistflower will have dealt with him by now..."

"Oh, that's too bad," said Vineheart. "Because I've just received the rest of his prophecy from StarClan! You HAVE to hear this!"

~*~*~*~

"Idiots!" hissed Wormstar. "When will those fools learn?" She spat on the fresh corpses of two BloodClan cats who had just attempted to assassinate her. On her own territory! For nine moons, they had been trying to kill her, to hit her on her own land. Her imbecile brother actually thought he could take her territory away - well, he would have to do much better than this.

Much, much better.

She turned around sharply, picked up the bird she had just hunted, and walked back toward her camp. The GraveClan portion of the forest was dark, densely populated with towering trees that blocked most of the sunlight and brought on the illusion of eternal night. A heavy, wraith-like blanket of fog always drifted around the forest floor, shrouding the paws of those who dared enter, and masking the prints of natives who preferred a more subtle approach to intruders...

And suddenly, Wormstar dropped the bird. She felt... funny. Before she knew what was happening, she blacked out and collapsed, and StarClan's voices filled her mind. It was indistinct, but somehow, she understood everything they were saying...

And then she saw him - the image of a pure golden tom flashed before her, his head held up high. All around him were old graves, overgrown with black roses... from the graves protruded rotten cat parts. Paws, tails, ears, all ruined by time and eaten through by worms. But then, the parts began to move, to shift and flex, and suddenly, hundreds of dead cats burst from the ground, growling, gurgling, vomiting insects that had made their homes in the bodies. And the corpses covered the golden cat, they smothered him beneath their weight, tore at his flesh with their yellowing fangs, and StarClan screamed:

"THE DEAD KNOW BUT ONE LEADER!"

~*~*~*~

LakeClan camp was at peace. Water lapped quietly at the sides of their lake, reflecting starlight, and the drooping willow vines above waved assuringly in the gentle zephyrs that made themselves known. Creekstar, the Clan leader, was restless, unable to sleep, as was her deputy, Pearlfur. They lay on the shore, grooming each other, chatting softly, waiting for weariness to overtake them. So far, their luck was minimal.

"Will we be moving the nursery, then?" Pearlfur was asking.

"That is up to the queens," responded Creekstar. "They say that the water from the stream sometimes meanders through the roots of the den, but they'd complain even if the fattest fish in the lake leaped right in front of them and killed itself."

Pearlfur chuckled. "I suppose. But don't you... Creekstar, what's wrong?"

Creekstar was on her paws, looking strange. She stumbled, for no apparent reason. Her legs trembled as she tried to regain her balance, but she couldn't. She swayed, staggered back up a slight rise in the ground, then tumbled off the edge, right into the water... unconscious.

But she saw something in her mind. Monstrous figures in the sky, which she realized were the cats of StarClan. Below, a most bizarre event was taking place. Millions of bones were spinning through the forest in a circular motion around a great, burning ball of fire... it looked like the sun, almost. She was mesmerized, she couldn't look away. Then StarClan bellowed a prophecy to her.

"BEHOLD THE ARMIES OF SUN AND DEATH! YOU MUST CHOOSE WHERE YOUR LOYALTIES LIE!"

She awakened, sputtering and coughing, as Pearlfur clamped her teeth around her neck and wrenched her back out of the water, safe inside the camp again.

~*~*~*~

Far off, in ValleyClan territory, Roaringstar, the Clan's leader, was in the nursery, playing kit games with his two restless daughters. He was pretending to be hurt by their play-attacks, begging for mercy in a high-pitched, babyish voice, when he too passed out. He heard his daughters wailing for him, and then...

The same image that Creekstar had seen appeared before him. He tried to resist, tried to look away, but he couldn't. It was hypnotizing, entrancing, and he couldn't avert his eyes. Then came StarClan's warning:

"YOU HAVE MADE MISTAKES IN TRUST BEFORE! DO NOT LET THIS HAPPEN AGAIN!"

And then, he was back in the nursery with his daughters, who squealed with delight when he moved again. The image of that sun was still scorched into his mind.

~*~*~*~

Sunpaw, unaware of everything that had just happened to the leaders, closed his eyes and fell asleep. The scariest thing he had to think about was how he was going to explain to the elders he would be cleaning that he had gotten into another fight. Little did he know, life was about to get much, much scarier.

[Flowerclaw]

Yay! More please! I have read it over and over!

[;R.o.c.k.y.w.a.v.e;]

Woohoo! That was AWESOME (still...)! And I'm fine this time, VIOLENCE-W00T! Erm, sorry. Sugar is bad for me