Lightpaw's Moonstone Journey

There was no way around it. With a soft huff of annoyance, Scorchclaw eyed the neatly wrapped bundle of herbs on the ground. Pushing away the contempt that had arisen within him, he bit into the herbs. The bitter tang that seeped into his mouth caused him to grimace; in one go, he gulped down the rest. He was no stranger to the these herbs. He had eaten them at least a couple of times in the past. Unfortunately, they were essential to the cats who would venture far beyond clan territory. Fallowpaw had caught a case of whitecough. With Goldeneye missing, that left only Scorchclaw to handle moonstone journeys. It was a task that he regarded with mild annoyance, but it had to be done. RiverClan couldn't afford to lose the sole healer they had at the moment.

"Lightpaw!" He called, glancing into the Apprentice Den, "It's time to go."

Scorchclaw greeted the white apprentice with a dip of his head. "Alright. Let's go." Absently, he wondered if Lightpaw was excited or nervous for his Moonstone Journey. Probably both. For most cats, it would be a once-in-a-lifetime chance to meet StarClan face to face. Perhaps he would even get the chance to meet the mother he had never met--Sunfish. The RiverClan deputy didn't remember her too well. They had never spoke much, after all. However, she held a far greater significance for Lightpaw.

Before too long, they had both crossed the stream that served to defend RiverClan camp from invaders. It was a fine day for the journey they would be making. Cloudy enough to provide some relief from the sun, but not cloudy enough to rain. As they padded along, Scorchclaw suddenly spoke up. "I trust your training under Jaystar has been satisfactory?" It was not like him to make much conversation with an apprentice, but he decided to break that trend this time. They had the whole day ahead of them for the journey. While he naturally assumed that the RiverClan leader was a satisfactory mentor, it was still good information to collect.

Scorchclaw turned his head to look at Lightpaw. "I see." He said simply. The apprentice's description sounded like Jaystar, all right. While the burdens of leadership had molded him to become harsher, RiverClan's leader was generally a calm, good-natured tom. In response to Lightpaw's question, mild surprise flashed in the tabby tom's green eyes. "You could say that." He replied. At the end of his apprenticeship, Jaystar - Jayfeather then - had actually been his mentor. It had only been for a short period of time.  As part of her punishment for betraying RiverClan, Sweet's apprentice had been taken away from her. Scorchclaw could be considered one of Jaystar's former apprentices. It wasn't surprising that Lightpaw didn't know about it, seeing as it had happened long before he was born.

The white tom's words rang true. If Scorchclaw were to ever become leader, he still had a lot to learn from Jaystar. For that reason, he prayed that StarClan would allow the tall gray tabby to remain leader for many more moons.



"We've arrived." Scorchclaw announced at last. It had been a fairly uneventful journey, which the fluffy deputy was thankful for. The sun had already set a while ago, and the blanket of night had been cast over the land. A few dark, ragged clouds drifted in the sky, doing little to obscure the icy moonlight that streamed down over the mountains. Blacker than even the night itself, Mothermouth yawned before the two cats. His paws having come to a stop, Scorchclaw turned to face Lightpaw. Pale-green eyes glimmered with serious intent. "When we enter the tunnels, use my scent to stay close. You won't be able to see anything, but don't panic. Call out if I get too far away. At the end of the tunnels, the Moonstone will come into view. Go ahead and touch your nose to it then. Do you understand?"

Yes, it was a cave. A cave that the apprentice could potentially get lost in if he didn't follow Scorchclaw closely enough. The remark was on the tip of the large tabby's tongue, but he bit it back in the end. While Lightpaw's words seemed careless, he was clearly nervous. He was attempting to reassure himself. Giving the younger tom a slight nod, the fluffy deputy stepped into the tunnel. The darkness swallowed him, so impenetrable that he could not even see his own paws. It was as if he had vanished into nothingness itself. Only the solid, rocky ground he stood on reassured him that such a situation had not happened. The tunnels beyond Mothermouth always caused a sense of stifled anxiety to rise within him. Once he was sure that Lightpaw had followed him, he continued further on. The ground underpaw was uncomfortably rough. Progress, while sure, was slow. Several times, the tunnels would branch off into other directions. He clung firmly to his memory of the route, letting it guide him. As they walked, the path gradually began to slope downwards, descending deeper into the earth. Stale, earth-scented air filled his nostrils with every breath.

At last, the tunnels drew to an end. As they approached the Moonstone, Scorchclaw suddenly found himself able to see the black silhouettes of his paws. Slowly but surely, light pierced through the darkness until the two cats could see quite clearly. A massive cavern opened up before them. Compared to moments before, the light was almost blinding now. The brown tabby tom blinked, taking a moment for his eyes to adjust. There it was. Just ahead of them was the Moonstone, glowing with the intensity that could only belong to StarClan. Through an opening high above, starlight washed down into the cavern. The scents of heather and the outside world could be detected just faintly, drifting in the air. Scorchclaw gestured with his tail, silently reminding Lightpaw of what to do.

The rich foliage, swollen with the pregnant characteristics of eternal Greenleaf, obscured the honeyed rivulets of buttery, muted light that poured down from an unknown source. Heavy grasses, burdened by the pressure of their own weight, dipped and twisted in the soft plumes of a damp breeze. The taste of freshly-fallen rain laid heavily on ones tongue, despite no lingering traces of a previous storm. The soft hum and chatter of various unseen insects buzzed lightly, softly droning on constantly, unperturbed by the latest visitor in their ghostly residence. Even the faint outline of prey, practically blind to the presence of Lightpaw, scuttled on by- much too preoccupied with their own business to be concerned with the young Apprentice.  For several more long heartbeats, while Lightpaw was preoccupied with merely gazing about the starry realm of StarClan, the only movement that swayed the lush territory was a gentle breeze, bred by the steady movements of unseen creatures.

The grasses, already bowing under the added weight of moisture, swayed and easily gave way to the being that passed by, eventually ruffling back into place within a few moments. Faint specks of starlight were scuffed up by the movements of the ghostly creature, hanging heavily in the air like snow during the first torrential downpour of the cold season. Deep amber eyes, a honeyed color that resembled the young tom's own, were suddenly peering back at Lightpaw. With hardly a sound, Sunfish finally pulled herself free of the entangled tendrils of grasses, carefully using her own weight as a shield so that the young starry molly who followed wasn't completely swallowed by the undergrowth. The ghostly shape of Sunkit pranced about Lightpaw's feet, her downy kit fur rippling under the slight strain of the starlight that followed her with every step, eyes wide with curiosity. Letting out a soft purr that was touched by a slight note of bitterness, Sunfish blinked down at her two kits, "Lightpaw.."

Sunfish remained silent for several moments as Lightpaw processed a variety of emotions, her features alight with hope as she gazed over at her pale-furred son. The soft flames of excitement still radiated a gentle heat throughout her starry being, but there was a niggling pinprick of apprehension nestled within her heart. She had been so angry at her own mother whenever they had first met, yet both of her sons seemed to avoid that trail of resentment all together. How could she had been so fortunate? Reaching out with a narrow forepaw, the starry Queen gently drew her young son closer so that the pair could rest their foreheads together. Exhaling a cool breathe that smelled of fresh snow and damp stone, the tabby's eyes remained closed for a moment as Sunkit carefully wove her way between the tangle of limbs. "Oh my son," Sunfish quietly murmured, a touch of grief noticeable within her quiet voice, "How I've longed for this day." Leaving behind so much so quickly had been incredibly difficult at first, but comfort had been found in watching her litter grow up from afar. "This is your sister, Sunkit. You might not know her, as she died long before you were even able to open your eyes, but she has only ever known you. She came along to help answer what questions you might have about life."

Lightpaw could only stand breathless, frozen, and hopeful as his mother approached him. He didn't hesitate for a moment when she reached out to him, instead pressing his body into hers like his heart had been aching to do. She was a bit taller than him right now, but he would grow taller still. He kept his forehead pressed to hers for as long as he could, ears perked to her soft murmurs. He wondered how he could even hear her over the racket of his own uncontrollable, half-choked purring. He felt Sunkit, now named, winding between his paws and made sure to stroke her flank affectionately with his tail.

Finally they broke apart, but Lightpaw didn't move far. His fur brushed his mother's as she explained that they had come to answer any questions he may have. He took a deep breath. "Questions? I... I have a million. Why... Why aren't you and Sunkit with us? Why did StarClan take you? Why is my father so angry at my uncle?" He shook his head despairingly and murmured genuinely, "I could never imagine Aspenstrike and I ever falling out so badly as to disown him as my kin." Lightpaw watched Sunkit play and wished he hadn't asked such negative things, but he looked at his mother and added, "Isn't family important?"

"Existence is a privilege, not an innate right. To spend even the briefest of moments in the realm of the living is a blessing beyond a comprehension, but a blessing with a price. Our existence is finite, some more than others, to ensure that we always appreciate what was given to us." Sunfish eventually murmured after a moment or two of contemplation, her dark gaze fixated upon the lightly distressed features of her young son. "Perhaps it's unfair, but to know a single moment of this life is a gift. It was hard to move on at first and leave so very much behind- but just because something isn't visible to the eye doesn't mean it has left." Casting her gaze towards her young daughter in a manner similar to Lightpaw, a soft breeze brushed through the overly lush territory in immediate response to the living tom's inquiry. The love that had been forged between herself and Stormstrike had been brief and tumultuous at best, and yet as sure as the rising sun. To see her former mate grow further calloused, to drift apart from those who he had previously cared for was an agony unparalleled to even the final moments of her life. Blinking down at the young tabby who drifted aimlessly in pursuit of some nonsensical game, the starry Queen's throat felt tight.

"Family is always important," Sunfish eventually conceded softly, "But not even shared blood demands the right to agreement. Some wounds are too old to be healed, regardless of what is done to soothe them."

Lightpaw waited for his mother's answers to his barrage for what felt like ages; he thought his pelt was going to bunch itself into knots with the anxiety of waiting, and the guilt of asking her such difficult questions. His ears flicked back slightly at the thick emotion in her tone as she spoke, explaining how life was a gift and not a right. The tom blinked slowly at the thought. Why let anyone live at all then? Lightpaw wondered. Who decides who's worthy? Who deserves the right?

Whether he agreed or not, he didn't dare doubt his mother's wisdom. Lightpaw didn't want to spend a single moment with his deceased kin doubting her judgment. He was certain by the pain and love in her eyes that she didn't want to leave, and that she didn't necessarily agree with it any more than he did. There was no reason to dwell on it, and when Sunfish answered his query about family he knew she didn't want to, either. Her next message carried a similar theme that some things were beyond one's control.

Lightpaw nodded. "I understand," the young white tom murmured. He nuzzled his mother's shoulder and mewed, looking up at her hopefully, "Do you have any other wisdom for me? I... I wish I could learn all about you. And Stormstrike. And how you met. He, well... I haven't ever asked him." He looked at his paws, though his gaze quickly flicked to Sunkit moving in the corner of his vision.