Crimson Darkness’ End (OPEN / CLAN MEETING / POST-SITE-WIDE PLOT WAR)

It had been a long, stressful, and disastrous battle, but at long last the war had been won by the Clans. There was also so much death and despair on the battlefield, mainly consisting of the Exiles, but a few Clan cats had unfortunately perished as well. One of them had been his own Clanmate Sparkpaw, the apprentice of his brother Wildstrike and his son Orchidpaw’s crush and best friend. He had ordered Froststone to carry her body back with the ShadowClan patrol to camp.

When he padded through the bramble barrier, he took notice to how the camp seemed to almost glow with light. With Lichenmask’s death came the return of the sun, the blood-red eclipse finally subsiding. It looked almost strange and unnatural, having been grown accustomed to the eerie crimson darkness for so many moons. But it was a good kind of strange, all things considered.

Scorchfang broke away from the rest of the patrol to leap up onto the Jaggedrock, and he cleared his throat before calling, ”Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Jaggedrock for a Clan meeting!”

---

Poppypaw jolted awake at his father’s call, and excitement instantly shocked his senses awake. Scorchfang and the patrol were back. That must mean the battle was won! He scampered out of the apprentices’ den and immediately noticed the rising sun that bathed the world in shining gold once again. The eclipse had vanished, too!

He whipped his head around desperately, suddenly remembering that Orchidpaw and Sparkpaw both were sent to war against the Exiles. He quickly spotted his littermate and gave a sigh of relief before rushing up to him, nuzzling his cheek. ”Orchidpaw! Oh, thank StarClan you’re okay! I was so worried about you and Sparkpaw!” He noticed Orchidpaw flinching at the mention of his friend and crush, and he frowned. ”Orchidpaw? Are you okay? ...Wait, where’s Sparkpaw?”

Orchidpaw looked away firmly, trying to hold back his tears. All he was able to mew before he could break into sobs was a soft, ”Y-You’ll find out soon enough...”

The deputy's head was pounding, and everything hurt. Mostly his gray paw. He'd landed on it funny when he got thrown off the Great Rock. He'd asked to just be treated after everything had died down, however, for he would live. The slashes on his face and chest had become merely scabs and dried crimson on his snow-white fur. He limped into camp, careful to not disturb the body on his back. Sparkpaw. She had so much potential, and it was stolen from her.

As he solemnly padded into the camp, he noticed the brightness returning to camp. The eclipse had gone, leaving them with sunshine once more. Finally, no more red-tinged forest. His fur was back to looking pure white, instead of a pinkish hue. He gently laid the body down in front of the Jagged rock, padding away from it slightly to look up at Scorchfang. His blue eyes were tired, yet hopeful. Perhaps this was just a new beginning. Despite the fact many cats had died, those who lived got a better future than the one that the purists wanted.

Morningpaw was a mess. She had been running around on the battlefield, trying to drag comrades to safety. Afterwards, she was sent to try and retrieve whatever herbs she could find around Fourtrees. The poor she-cat had been exposed to many, many deaths and horrid injuries. She had done everything in her power to remain calm as it was her duty to help all in need. Currently, Morningpaw was sitting where the clan usually meets. She had just returned from the battle.

Ravenpaw nuzzled up against Orchidpaw, attempting to comfort her older brother. But hearing the dull thud of a limp body hit the ground was too much, and she ended up sniffling into Orchidpaw's shoulder instead. Sparkpaw, her best friend. The cat that had supported her both before and after her blinding. The cat she had been friends with since practically birth. She was dead. Gone. Making her home in StarClan, among the other honoured dead.

Redpaw's ears perked up from where she lay in the apprentices' den. She'd wanted to go help her Clan fight against the evil cats, but Firestone had made her stay at camp. So when she heard the approaching pawsteps of her friends and the yowls of her leader, she ran out of the den, a beaming smile on her face. They must have won! Oh, thank StarClan. When she saw the blue fur of one of her friends, she scampered over to him, knowing that his other friend was probably not far behind. "Orchidpaw! Sparkpaw! Did you beat up those rogues? Was it cool?" But when she saw the look on the usually calm tom's tear-stained face, she stopped in her tracks. Where was Sparkpaw? ...Oh, no. No no no. The conclusion she immediately jumped to was proved to be correct when Froststone came in, bearing Sparkpaw's body on his back. The she-cat had always been so nice to everyone... Without saying a word, Redpaw just pressed herself into Orchidpaw's side, knowing that he would need the comfort. They all would, now. Suddenly, winning the battle seemed less glorious. What did victory mean if you lost cats that you loved?

Rowantalon slowly padded out of the Elder's den, his hazel eyes solemn as he scanned his clanmate's faces for any sign of how the battle went. They looked exhausted... but the sun had returned to the Forest at last. Perhaps there was good news on the way.

Seeing as many of his Clanmates had assembled, glad to see their relieved and excited reactions to the return of the sun, Scorchfang gently smiled. However, it quickly fell. The Clans had all lost so much. So many of their former Clanmates were killed in battle, if not all of them. And Sparkpaw... She was friends with nearly every cat in the Clan, but no more so than his dear son Orchidpaw, who had expressed his love to her mere days before he lost her. This was going to be a difficult meeting indeed.

”Cats of ShadowClan,” he began strongly, deciding to share the good news first, so that hopefully they’ll be able to take the bad a little better, ”as you can see, the sun has returned to us, the eclipse’s dark, crimson hold on the forest ceasing. It had returned after the death of Lichenmask. He and his exiled followers had been defeated, as had many rogues they were able to accumulate.” Including Shade, he thought bitterly. ”In addition, without the threat of Lichenmask and his allies plaguing the forest, I now deem it safe to resume apprentices’ Moonstone journeys. I am certain many of our apprentices will be more than eager to speak with their warrior ancestors, and with so many battle wounds for Morningpaw to heal, I have decided that I will once again assist in accompanying apprentices to Highstones, and Froststone is free to do so as well if he chooses. Tomorrow, I will be traveling to the Moonstone to receive my nine lives from StarClan.”

Now that the good news was finished, it was time for the bad. This wasn’t going to be pretty, he knew. ”However... With every sunrise, it will have its sunset. Cats were killed today. Cats of both the Clans and the Exiles. There will be no use in hoping for any of our former Clanmates to return to us.” He couldn’t help but gaze over at Cedarstorm. She had been the mother of some of their former Clanmates killed in battle. He could only imagine what she must be feeling. I’m so very sorry, Cedarstorm. I gave it my all. He turned his attention back to the rest of the Clan. ”We have also lost one very brave apprentice. Sparkpaw was a friend to all of ShadowClan. She was very hard-working, determined, and loyal to the very end. It is such a shame that she perished just before she was able to receive her warrior name.” Hold on. She perished before she could receive her warrior name, but was it technically too late?

The dark tabby tom leaped down from the Jaggedrock and approached the charred deceased apprentice. Standing over her, he bowed his head, then lifted it to the sky certain that now his ancestors would be able to hear him. ”I, Scorchfang, call my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has given her life in the service of her Clan and I commend her as a warrior in her turn. She will be known as Sparkfeather, in honor of the determined and hard-working yet gentle and loving cat she was to the Clan.”

---

Feeling his brother, younger sister, and one of his close friends pressing up against him, Orchidpaw could almost feel a sliver of comfort. It still hurt too much. His love, his best friend aside from Poppypaw, his future mate... was dead. And he had to see her die, getting knocked right into the flames to be burned alive. It was horrifying.

He was barely able to pay attention to his father as he spoke, too absorbed in his depression. Could he have done something to save Sparkpaw? Yes, he could’ve! He had tried telling her to stay behind with Poppypaw in camp, but she just wouldn’t listen. He should have made her listen! Maybe then she would still be alive! He was such a failure of a ShadowClan cat and a friend.

His eyes lifted up when he heard Scorchfang beginning to recite the traditional speech for a warrior ceremony. He was confused at first, but then he saw him standing over Sparkpaw’s body. His ears perked up a little. Scorchfang was giving Sparkpaw her warrior name so she could be a warrior in StarClan. He didn’t even know that was possible!

Tears swelled up in his eyes once again when the ceremony was finished. Sparkfeather. The perfect warrior name for the perfect cat. Rising up on unstable paws, he slowly walked over to his deceased crush as if in a trance. Once he was in front of her, he collapsed once again and buried his muzzle in her scorched fur. She no longer smelled like herself, but of burnt ashes and death. This tugged even harder at his already abused heartstrings. ”G-Goodbye, Sparkfeather. May you find peace and happiness in StarClan. I will always love you, my sweet feather.”

Firestone left his den at the call of the leader. He was ordered to watch the camp until their return and did so but he was so tense that he couldn't keep his claws sheathed. Did they win? His answer soon came when he saw the morning sun on the horizon. The dark eclipse... was gone.

The large warrior rushed to the Jaggedrock, looking for his friend, Froststone, who, as the deputy of the clan, had to fight in the war. When his eyes found him, the senior cat saw him carrying a small body. It was Sparkpaw. Firestone lowered his head and approached the white-furred tom with a sad expression as he tried to greet him with a gentle bump of his forehead with his head, also as a way of comfort after all the fight he had to witness. "Are you okay, Froststone?"

---

Cedarstorm, on the other side, left the Elder's den with sloppy steps due to the annoying pain that lurked in her articulations. She looked at every cat that passed by. She greeted her mate, Crowfur, with a loving nuzzle but she did not see any of her kits by his side. Where was Brushgaze, Aspenpaw and Stonepaw? Where were her kits!? She turned her face to Scorchfang, fury in her eyes. With an angered yowl, she stepped forward to meet his amber gaze. "SCORCHFANG! WHERE ARE MY KITS!? Where is Brushgaze, Aspenpaw and Stonepaw? Why aren't they here?!" She yowled, her voice filled with pain. She knew the truth, deep inside her, but she didn't want to believe it. As the mother of those kits, it was unbearable to her to believe that her kits were traitors of her clan...

Scorchfang’s ears lowered at Cedarstorm’s yowls of pain. He knew his friend wouldn’t have been able to take the news well. She deserved to be told personally, not have her question addressed to the rest of the Clan. Leaving the cats to sit vigil for Sparkfeather, he walked over to meet with Cedarstorm, his head bowed. She was probably going to hate his guts after this...

”I-I’m... I’m so sorry, Cedarstorm,” he mewed softly. ”They were too set in their ways. I’m not certain what had become of Aspenpaw or Stonepaw, but Brushgaze... Sh-She did die. I... I saw her attack Crowfur without any mercy. She overpowered him, and probably would have killed him if I and a few other cats didn’t intervene. I wasn’t the one who killed her, though. I would never kill in battle. I’m... I’m s-so sorry, Cedarstorm-mm...”

His eyes began to well up with tears, unable to keep up his professionalism. ”I-I know how h-hard it is to lose your k-kits... It breaks my h-heart that you’ll never see yours again. I t-tried so hard, but... I f-failed you, both as your leader and as your friend.” He didn’t care anymore if any cat saw him in the state he was in now. He deserved to feel the shame and humiliation, the distrust and anger, that anyone would want to direct at him. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for leadership after all...

Rowantalon shook his head solemnly, approaching Froststone slowly. "It's alright, son." He mewed gently. "You fought bravely, and it's no fault of yours that Sparkfeather..." He trailed off, his hazel eyes trained on the fallen apprentice. Sparkfeather had been so young... The spotted tom stepped away slowly, crouching by the young cat's body.

After hearing Scorchfang's words, he turned his hollow gaze down to his paws. Soon after, he felt a gentle bump against his head. It was Firestone. He lifted his head to look at the taller tom. "I'll be alright. I should've done more. If I had, maybe I could've helped Sparkp-" He tripped over his own words a bit. "Sparkfeather. I- I hope she enjoys Starclan. She was just so young though." Rowantalon had come to comfort him. He turned his body a bit to look at the elder. "If only I could've, though."

With a sharp inhale, the pale deputy headbutted Firestone's chest, leaving his head there for a moment. His friend was important to him, and Froststone was glad he was able to see him again. Through the ginger fur, he could hear Cedarstorm wailing about her children. Suddenly it hit him, he had killed Brushgaze. The horrors of the war were overwhelming to the younger cat, who had never killed before now. He silently sat there, before lifting his head again and looking at Sparkfeather.

Wildstrike rushed over towards the Jaggedrock when he heard Scorchfang call. When he saw the body of  his apprentice laying on the ground he froze, he stared up at his brother, tears filling his eyes as the leader gave the dead cat her warrior name, Sparkfeather... He looked away, some cats might say that he couldn't have done anything to stop this but he could! He should have trained her better, if he had done that then she'd be sitting her with the rest of the clan, her heart beating. He felt how his body began to shake, he had failed as her mentor if only he had trained her even harder she wouldn't have ended up dead. He slowly sat down, why Sparkfeather? She had so much to live for. The tears started running down his chin but he didn't make a sound or move a muscle, he just stared at Sparkfeather's dead body. Never again would he let this happen, if he were ever again to get an apprentice he would make sure that they never would be lying here dead infront of the clan.