Cicadapaw's Moonstone Journey

Frostgaze was up early, before the sun had completely set beneath the horizon. He had yet another apprentice to take out to the Highstones, and it would be Cicadapaw. Another of Burningwing's apprentices, and another that had been so easily influenced by the warrior's views. Trying to talk sense to the apprentice on this journey would simply make it harder than it needed to be, so he quickly padded into the apprentice's den, prodding Cicadapaw quietly. "It is time for your journey to the Moonstone." Soon after, he returned to the entrance of the apprentice's den with two herb bundles, and he began swallowing his own as he waited for Cicadapaw to emerge.

Cicadapaw woke up with a disgruntled grumble, his eyes blinking open to find Frostgaze to be the one waking him up. The apprentice's fur was always a mess, but sleep always made it a whole different monster. While grumpy to see the deputy, he perked up as he was reminded of what he had to do tonight. Visit his ancestors.

Cicadapaw was quick onto his feet, taking little time to groom a bit and wake up before padding out of the den. He already had a clear idea of how this was going to go. He was going to get the validation he so craved from beings more important and powerful than anyone else in the clan could ever hope to be while still living. He lived by Starclan's code completely, even when others in Shadowclan disagreed on what the rules meant. He was going to be proven right and be able to smush it in everyone's faces that they were wrong, because he had a Starclan cat to back him up.

When he appeared from the entrance, Frostgaze was already eating his herbs. The deputy would be the first cat he told, vindication for being so distrustful of his mentor and bringing in more rogue kits than he did prey. However, before he got the information that he wanted, he had no reason to talk to the white cat more than necessary. He crouched down by his bundle, scrunching up his nose as he licked them up. He didn't know how Basilbloom functioned chewing up herbs all day. They tasted so bitter!

He finished them quickly, giving a stretch to prepare his muscles for the long walk. "We ready to go?"

"Indeed. Come along, Starclan waits for no cat." With his few words said, Frostgaze lead the apprentice from the camp, deciding against speaking. There was not much use in trying to convince the apprentice of the error of his ways. He was an unfortunate victim of Burningwing's views against rogues. Perhaps someday, Cicadapaw would be able to see reason. However, until then, it was logical to not start a fight with an apprentice on the way to the Moonstone.

It had taken time, a lot of time. Frostgaze's short legs were burning after a while, tired from making multiple moonstone trips in a matter of a few sunrises. Still, it did not show on his face, and he approached the tunnel entrance. Looking back at Cicadapaw, he spoke for the first time in a while. "When we enter the cavern, lay down and touch your nose to the Moonstone. It is there that Starclan will take you into sleep, and speak to you. I hope you find the knowledge you wish to find." It was then that he lead onward, his long white fur brushing against the edges of the tunnel. He would never get used to that feeling. The cavern was already illuminated a blinding white as they approached, and Frostgaze wasted no time in stepping aside and allowing Cicadapaw access to the Moonstone. He truly did want Cicadapaw to get the information he sought after, though he wondered if he would get what he wanted to hear, or what he needed to hear.

Cicadapaw was thankful for the silence that suffocated their walk. He was never one to be able to hold his own tongue, even when he knew it wasn't best for him to let it run. If Frostgaze said nothing, it was easier for him to remain silent as well, saving himself from whatever issues that might arise from fighting with the deputy. Instead, he promptly zoned out, stuck fantasizing in his own head.

Approaching Mothermouth was like volunteering to be swallowed up by a monster just to see the treasure hidden within its belly. Unnerving, but exhilarating at the same time. Determined to be brave, he didn't hesitate to venture down the deep dark tunnels. It was difficult to navigate, even Frostgaze's white pelt disappearing in the pitch black until finally they were blinded by dazzling light. The moonstone. His eyes widened in awe, engrossed in the shining spectacle as he took steps closer. It was truly like a star had fallen in front of him. No wonder it was their entrance into Starclan.

Cicadapaw pressed his nose to stone, curling up and letting sleep take him.


When his eyes opened once more, he found himself transported into a starry landscape. He hopped onto his paws faster than he ever had in the waking world, sitting up straight and noble-like. He wondered who he would see. Perhaps an old Shadowclan leader, maybe even Shadowstar herself from the legends kits would hear in the elder's den! It would be nice to have someone important. Or perhaps his parents would appear and tell him how proud they were for following in their footsteps so perfectly and absolutely. Yes, that, that was what he wanted.

Amber eyes scanned the clearing, so ready to see the figure of a cat appear in front of him.

At first, the dreamscape resembled a simple field, scattered with stars. Then… the space around the waiting cat twisted, and suddenly the tom stood in a comfortably familiar space, still a clearing under the stars, but the surroundings different- more like the ones he knew.

The gentle dusk of twilight hung lightly over the trees, stunted and bent. A tussock, the only apparent firm ground, was underneath Cicadapaw’s paws. Around him lay the marshes, flowers blooming as if in the beauty of new-leaf. Stars still glistened in the murk and the bent trees, but less obviously, not like the plains. The sky above sparkled with light. It was ShadowClan territory, but studded with stars, and forever in the plentiful bounty of green-leaf. Toads croaked in the distance, and the tom’s namesakes shrieked loudly from every corner.

To inexperienced eyes, it would seem the slim black she-cat appeared out of nowhere. The shadows masked her pelt, cloaking her in stealth that neither Burningwing nor Cicadapaw could hope to achieve before they, too, joined the stars. Blue-green eyes watched the waiting tom for a heartbeat before she stalked out of the shadows.

The marshes seemed to provide firm ground beneath her paws where none could be expected. She padded forwards until she stood before him, paws masked by the marsh grasses. Her short, pitch-black pelt glittered dimly with stars, thickest around her throat. It was clear that this indeed was a ShadowClan cat- the way she blended into the shadows, found her way effortlessly through the marsh- even the way the mud slipped easily off her paws.

“What wisdom do you seek, Cicadapaw?”

She had chosen this scene for a reason. She knew who mentored him. Her blue-green eyes betrayed nothing, but under her pelt she itched to help this cat. Show him the error of his ways.

She did not want him to die the way she did- incomplete. Longing for something she couldn’t have. Wishing to rewind the clock.

Cicadapaw gasped as the world started to shift and morph around him, pine trees replacing poplar and grass disappearing to show mud beneath. The most beautiful landscape to him, even though most outsiders would consider the marshes and mire to be an awful environment to try and navigate. It was Shadowclan, so it was perfect for him.

Then, a small, sleek black she-cat appeared out from the undergrowth. Yet another prediction of Shadowclan... though no one he was expecting. She wasn't old enough to be anyone of importance, no one he recognized. His throat tightened at the thought that Pinequill and Adderslash hadn't wanted to come to see him again, but perhaps they were busy doing Starclan things. Maybe Starclan thought it would be better for him to speak with a peer... there had to be a reason why he was given a mere apprentice.

He tried not to show his apprehension, though his ears flicking back had slipped his attention. "Cats of my clan don't trust my mentor's or my motives. We want nothing but to protect our clan, but they are bringing in strangers who could want to harm our home! It has been seen before, cats trespassing and killing our own because they decided to abandon their kits with us. They maimed our leader and forced him to retire! If living proof is not enough, how can I bring them to reason? They are blind!" As he spoke, his once regal pose had morphed into something more desperate, leaning in forward as his tail flicked and whipped behind him, his attempts to impress giving way for his need for answers. He truly was worried for his clan, but his efforts seemed hopeless when whenever he spoke his mind he and his mentor were ganged up on.

Pantherpaw stayed stock still, as relaxed as she ever was. He wasn’t excited to see her- she wasn’t surprised. She, herself, hadn’t been pleased that her StarClan cat hadn’t been her deceased parent. He seemed desperate… desperately misguided. She couldn’t simply tell him outright he was wrong. Tact was required.

The slim she-cat sat, impassive blue-green eyes locked onto his. “I see. Your greatest wish is to protect your Clan, a worthy wish. You believe the actions of some of your Clanmates put your Clan in danger. I see.”

She paused for a moment. “You, I am sure, trust in the Warrior Code. Now, the Warrior Code directly contradicts part of your thinking. What about kits, found lost in the swamps, so young as to not remember life before ShadowClan? Surely you do not think that such young kits are inherently evil. Such a belief would directly contradict the Warrior Code.”

The small black she-cat flicked her tail. “You must understand that I am not saying all of your thoughts are wrong. How can you hope to convince your Clanmates if some of your beliefs can be unraveled with a few minutes of logic? You must weed out the thorns, present them with a carefully woven soft nest. Brashness will only serve to alienate those you wish to convince.”

Now, the Warrior Code directly contradicts part of your thinking.

Wait... wait what?

It felt like the beautiful landscape Starclan had constructed for him was about to suffocate him, the trees baring down at him like they would crumple and crush him beneath their weight. She... She wasn't agreeing with him. Starclan wasn't agreeing with him. His lungs refused to work properly, his eyes widening in disbelief as the she-cat continued to speak words he despised.

"You didn't unravel anything!" He snarled, his hackles beginning to raise defensively. Was this a test? Surely Starclan would not give him such a brain-rotted she-cat as a guide. "You just put words in my mouth and called me idiotic for thoughts I never had! Just because I don't want to bring a rogue kit into my clan does not mean I believe them to be evil, but they bring evil with them. Parents who invade our lands and murder our cats because they changed their mind on dropping their rat-spawn at our entrance!"

His claws tore at what little grass grew beneath them as he forced himself to breathe. If this was a test, he would fail by lashing out at this cat... perhaps he could backpedal and try again. As she said, brashness will not convince anyone... "All I ask... is that we drop them off somewhere else. Other clans or with twolegs who will make their bellies fat and their pelts soft. We have had enough rogue problems..." His tone still seeped with irritation and aggression, but it was at least he wasn't yelling.

"This is why I have problems talking sense into my clanmates. They don't listen even when I speak softly. When they brought Shy into the clan, all I suggested was that they drop her off somewhere else. Surely they had learned from Batglow, yet they looked at me and Burningwing like we had suggested we slit her throat. Batglow, the cat who caused us so many problems already, threatened my mentor. What should I do if they reject my 'soft nest' and alienate me first?"

Pantherpaw stayed quiet, even when his voice rose and hackles lifted. He calmed himself soon after, and so she let him speak.

“Ah. Your problem is not directly with the kits, but rather with the troubles they may bring? In a theoretical situation where the kit’s parents could be guaranteed dead, you would approve of bringing such a cat into the Clan? You do not, for example, believe that, if you or Burningwing prick yourselves on a thorn, your blood is somehow different from Batglow’s? It is the side effects of bringing them in, not the kits themselves you disagree with.”

Her blue-green eyes narrowed ever so slightly. How dare he speak of her father in such a manner. “If you were leader of ShadowClan, what would you suggest? Would you exile him upon learning that his mother would cause severe damage to ShadowClan? If so, would you do the same if his mother was a Clan cat who demanded him exiled for something he could not control, such as being born blind or deaf?”

She tilted her head. “Once I understand what, precisely, you believe, then I can advise you.”

She understood it. But she hoped that going over it would reveal to the tom the holes that riddled his logical structure.

He wanted to yell again. She was saying things, making his head hurt. He didn't listen, why wouldn't she just tell him he's right and leave?! This wasn't what he came here for!

"If the parents were confirmed dead, then there could be something else looking for it that could be a detriment. The thing about rogues is that we know nothing about their past, nothing about the cats that might want to interact with it. There could be a danger that we don't even know about following it. Sure, if we somehow knew every single cat that might want this kit is dead, which is impossible because we are mere cats, then I might let it in if no one else wants it. However, our blood is different. It may not be in color or flow, but in body and strength. Shadowclan cats have been bred in the marsh and dark for generations, we were made for it. Bringing in outsider blood that might have been made for the meadows makes us lose that advantage." It was hard to keep his voice level.

"I would have exiled Batglow. His past endangered the whole clan. A blind kit is only a danger to itself. While neither can control what harm follows them, I as a leader would have to make sure I do the best for my clan. Batglow brought murderers into our territory, into our home. The worst a blind or deaf kit could do would be to get itself carried off by a hawk." He hated how careless that made him sound, but it was the truth. A disabled kitten had hardships it would have to deal with on its own, something he hoped they would be able to overcome, but they were only a danger to themselves. Rogue kittens harmed the entire clan, and they had to be removed. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the thew, and Batglow and any other kit with savage parents are the few."

"I believe that to be as safe as we can, we shouldn't let rogues in willy-nilly, if at all. Even letting in cats from other clans could be a danger, we don't know why they were exiled or what they could have done without the eyes of other cats watching them. We are safest as our own, in our own territory with no one else... And who are you anyway? Why should I even trust your judgment?"

She stood. Still. Still as the marsh in leaf-bare. Around them, the sounds of the frogs, cicadas, and crickets ceased, leaving only his brash, empty voice. Perhaps she could’ve kept what temper she had hidden- but he went too far.

A chill wind swept over them, leaving Pantherpaw’s pelt unruffled. “I am the daughter of the cat you would’ve killed- for to exile Batglow would’ve been to lead to his death. Where do you think you, aye, and your mentor, come from? Are you as mitebrained to suppose ShadowClan has always existed? What if the cats who lived in the marshes first had been as you- what then?”

The silence was marred by the wind, increasing in strength until the trees shuddered before it. Yet the StarClan cat’s voice penetrated through it- her eyes beginning to shine with an ethereal, unearthly glow.

“I speak to you to help you. If ever you see the error of your ways, StarClan will be here. Until then- goodbye.”

It was as if the wind had scoured away the starry surroundings as Pantherpaw began to fade, eyes still gleaming. Resorting to intimidation was a last resort that would likely to more harm than help- still. She had done her best.

And maybe, just maybe, he would tell Batglow she watched over him from the stars.

Oh, so that's why she was so bound determined to prove him wrong. She was a rogue! Or at the very least had rogue blood, but what was the difference?

However, that was enough to make him stop listening, stuck in his own head as it started to reel. Rogues were in Starclan. Rogues, who head had sworn to protect his clan from, his family from, were in his afterlife?! His mother and father were stuck for eternity with murderers?!?! No- If rogues were in Starclan, what if they chased them out? What if his parents were rotting in the dark forest because of a bunch of dirty-blooded warrior-wannabes?

He couldn't breathe, heavy panting only adding to the sound of the whipping wind. Her last words only cemented his fears. Starclan wasn't with him. Starclan had abandoned its own flesh and blood. "Fine! When did the living ever need the dead anyway?!" His vision started to blur and he hoped it was simply the dream ending and not the tears he knew they were. "So you can take your stars and leave!"

The world continued to fade and blur around him as he spat his words, however, a crumble beneath his feet demanded his attention. The ground had begun to shift and part, creating a cavernous ravine below his feet. There was only a blink for him to register what was happening-

-and then he was falling,

and falling,

and falling.


Cicadapaw awoke with a start, claws scraping against the rocky innards of the cavern in a desperate attempt to hold himself secure. He was on solid ground now... and Starclan had abandoned him. His entire life at this point couldn't have been a lie. No, Starclan had to be wrong. Everyone else had to be wrong.

He pulled himself up to his feet and lunged for the exit. He was done here. He couldn't stand the sight of the dreaded rock in front of him.