Brindlewhisker's Leader Ceremony

The Highstones were a familiar sight to the new Leader, but tonight they were an unwelcomed one. In place of the inspiring wisdom and strength they normally offered during her short visits, they only radiated a judgmental glimpse of what lay in wait for her on this eve.

The bitter taste of anxiety and fear pooled heavily upon Brindlewhisker’s tongue, coating her teeth in a taste so foul she felt like retching. She had left WindClan in the capable paws of Swiftstep, and yet that did virtually nothing to quell the unseen spasms that wracked her. Nerves fluttered deep within the core of her being as she began the familiar descent into the overwhelming darkness of the Mothermouth, plaguing her with a pulsating sensation. The odd throbbing sensation coiled and twisted her veins into tightly wound knots, tugging and tearing awkwardly with each step taken. Inhaling a sharp mouthful of damp, stagnant air, the former Deputy’s steps echoed unevenly atop the muddy, stone-flecked floor of the cavern. Distress sharpened her scent, staining her with the acrid scent of something akin to fear. ’I still remember joining WindClan as if it happened yesterday,’ The thought only heightened her sense of alarm, ’How could this already be happening so soon?’ Blinking futilely against the crushing darkness, Brindlewhisker’s head twisted and swayed oddly as she purposely brushed her whiskers against the damp, ragged walls of the tunnel in an attempt to gauge her proximity to the stone. The tunnels, once she had come to know so well, suddenly seemed frightening and unwelcoming- as though they were merely leading her to her death in some cruel jape.

’What a laugh the other Clans would have at that!’ Brindlewhisker snorted a sharp breath through her nose, wincing slightly as she realized how shaky the sound actually was, ’Ashstar isn’t even the ground before I manage to run off hopelessly into my own death!’ A familiar dip caught her by surprise, hooking one of her front limbs so sharply that she was nearly sent sprawling into the rough floor ahead of her. Normally meticulously groomed nape fur spiking slightly, her paws reluctantly slithered to a halt in a brief attempt to steel herself. Now that she was finally forcing herself to halt for a heartbeat or two, the pinpricks of grief strengthened considerably. The sharp nip of pain bled into something more overwhelming- a ripping, grating pain that gnawed deeply at her bones. She had been fortunate enough to be blessed with many moons beside Ashstar, and yet the realization of her kin’s death nearly sent her spiraling.

The sickly sweet scent of death that had clung to Ashstar’s pelt seemed to linger within the depths of the tunnel, invading her every sense and nearly choking the life out of Brindlewhisker. It made her belly roil with fear and disgust, tightening her middle section with unbearably painful cramps. She wasn't ready! The tidal wave of nausea and fear that had nearly submerged her sent a violent shudder of fear racing through her, making her limbs quake sharply. The darkness around her, already uncomfortable enough, seemed much more sinister and greedy. Gasping in a panicked, hiccup-riddled breath, the newfound wave of panic sent her thundering forth into the tunnel once more. The rhythm her paws fell into was a frantic and uneven one; she only narrowly avoided tripping or colliding into the walls on multiple occasions.

It seemed as though she had been running for ages. For one long, incredibly terrible moment Brindlewhisker was certain that, during her frightful haste, she had accidentally veered off the trails and was now simply plunging to some terrible fate. Lungs sharply puffing out uneven breaths, the WindClanner felt a tremble run through her being. This couldn’t be the end, right? Certainly fate wouldn’t be so cruel! Just as the final specks of hope within her being began to flicker and cool, the ragged tunnel ahead of her was softly illuminated in an odd, grey light. Every thundering step she took forward brought her closer and closer to the soft, silvery light- which strengthened and grew more vividly colored as she inevitably plunged into it. ’The Moonstone!’ The realization sent a pulse of relief racing through her being with such ardor that she thought actual tears might well up within her eyes.

Unwilling to waver in the fierce pace she had adopted, Brindlewhisker continued to race and weave through the illuminated tunnels, her subconscious seemingly clicking back into place. The path, that had previously seemed daunting and completely ready to devour her, now seemed familiar once more. Every little turn, dip, or low-hanging stone was within her sights. Even as the silver light became more and more blinding, her steps did not falter or slow.

If I look back, I am lost.

If I look back, I am lost.

Ashstar’s final words, despite their raspy weakness, seemed to echo within Brindlewhisker’s mind with unwavering resolve. ”I do not... regret... choosing you. You... will be... a great... leader. Please, don't... ever…” It was almost as if they lit a fire deep within her, a fire that hungrily licked and scorched away the stubbornly remaining fears and doubts. Despite the searing heat of the flames within the center of her being, she no longer felt as though she would perish within the belly of the mountains. The sun had set on this part of her life, but a newer chapter would rise with the dawn.

If I look back, I am lost.

Rounding a particularly tight corner within the tunnel, Brindlewhisker was greeted with the familiar yet still awe-inspiring sight of the Moonstone. Nestled within the heart of a rather spacious cavern, sharp stone teeth rose up all around the glimmering stone, forming a loosely scattered ring of imposing fangs. The unusually smooth stone threw dazzling reflections all about the cavern, strange shapes dancing about in the edges of her vision. The stark light bleached everything in desolate shades, bleeding away the rich colors that likely resided within the ancient cavern. Odd shadows stretched about all around her, swaying and curling up with every hesitant movement. Pausing a tail-length before the sacred stone, Brindlewhisker’s heavy breathing dwindled down into a weak, hardly discernible inhale. The Moonstone had offered her companionship during her countless journeys here with apprentices, and yet somehow it seemed…different. The comforting light that she had come to know suddenly seemed much more ancient and foreboding, the ashy specks of silver light tinged with countless lifetimes of knowledge. It was here that her ancestors would judge her, break apart the foundation of her being to truly see if she worthy of such a noble cause. And yet, she wasn’t able to muster up the decency to be frightened. Standing before the ethereal light of the Moonstone, she was merely captivated by its sheer beauty.

Eventually forcing herself to take a few more hasty steps forwards, Brindlewhisker winced slightly as her belly fur brushed softly against the frigid stone earth of the cavern. Although the light felt searing from this distance, the pain was hardly tangible. Stretching forward slightly, the former Deputy let out a shaky inhale as her nose gently brushed against the unearthly stone. Countless scents rushed up to eagerly meet her nose; stale air, churned earth, decay, and frigid stone. Drowsiness bubbled up within her veins, softly licking at her flesh and muscles in a soothing manner. As Brindlewhisker’s gaze grew heavy and eventually drifted shut, a new scent pooled heavily atop her tongue. It was bitter, cold, and surprisingly sharp with the fragrance of something unfamiliar yet easily memorable.

”Greetings, Brindlewhisker.”

The sound of countless voices dredged Brindlewhisker away from the depths of the restless sleep she had managed to drift into, the soft hum of hundreds of voices ringing sharply within her mind. Blearily blinking away the final, stubbornly lingering tendrils of sleep, a pang of surprise reberated within her form. Richly colored grass swayed about all around her, thrusting tantalizing scents up into the warm air all around her. Brindlewhisker hardly had time to marvel at the sheer beauty that unfolded around her endlessly, for several starry shapes seemed to simply appear before her. Every cat that seemed to explode into existence with a bright flash of rippling starlight seemed vaguely familiar, even though she couldn’t recall their features or names.

”It is time for you to arise to your true purpose in life. Before we bless you with the nine lives necessary for you to lead WindClan, we must strip you of your former identity. Are you willing to sacrifice everything you were for everything you are meant to be?” The voices hummed once more, sharp undercurrents resonating through the sweet summer air of the unearthly realm. The question sent an uneasy pulse through Brindlewhisker, resulting in her twisting about in a futile attempt to find the speaker. Was she truly ready to give up her final connections to her life as a Warrior so soon? The life before her was undoubtedly a lonely one- she would find no understanding, companionship, or sympathy for as long as she led. It would be her duty to keep her Clan safe throughout the many obstacles before her. It would be her choices that decided the fates of those she cared for.

”I am.” Brindlewhisker finally answered, certainty strengthening her voice. She did not fear the trail ahead of her, no matter the difficulties that would inevitably arise. It was her destiny to lead WindClan. However, instead of the unanimous voice speaking once more, a shape slipped away from the crowded ranks of starry cats that encircled her. The cream and white pelt, although simmering with the effects of eternal youth, was startlingly familiar. Guilt tightened her throat as she continued to gape as the young she-cat who was now settled before her.

”Willowwhisker!” Brindlewhisker gasped, unable to avoid the seemingly inevitable twist of guilt that tightened her innards. However, Willowwhisker’s gaze showed no signs of disgust or blame, only an oddly vacant luminescence that resonated strongly. There was such a vehement emotion simmering within the depths of the molly's cool gaze that it made her feel weak, touched by a gaze that suddenly saw everything that she was and was not within the lapse of such brief time.

”What happened to you?! You just...vanished. I-I never got the chance to say anything-” A pointed look effectively silenced any more words from Brindlewhisker mouth. Instead, Willowwhisker took another gliding step forward until the two molly’s were nearly nose to nose. Luminous eyes, practically overflowing with a soft kindness, blinked in her direction. Though the glimmering starlight strongly radiated outwards from within the ghostly depths of the cream-colored molly's gaze, it was softened by a touch of welcome- a lack of disdain, volition.

”Hush. There will be plenty of time for you to say everything you need to say, but today is not that day. I come to you with a purpose. With this life, I give you the gift of a mother’s love. Treat your Clanmates as though they are your kin, regardless of whether or not you share their blood. They are your family now, Brindlewhisker, so defend them at all costs.” Willowwhisker murmured, the cool flesh of her nose gently brushing against Brindlewhisker’s forehead. The ensuing pain that immediately followed suit was agonizing. Starting deep within the flesh between her hips and radiating out, it felt startlingly similar to the pain one felt during labor. It ripped, grated, and tore at her until she wanted to throw her head back and scream into the heavens until her voice went raw. Claws tearing into the soft, sweet grass below, Brindlewhisker’s body trembled slightly as the pain only intensified. Bones grated against bones, flesh writhing and bucking in faulty attempts to void such terrible torment. Despite the appalling nature of such finite sensations, it was sharply familiar in all of the worst ways. The pain of a mother, the pain of bringing forth short-lived life in a land crueler than the effort of bearing such precious life.

Something else was pooling up within her alongside the pain, an ancient ferocity that burned so brightly that it nearly overcame the aftershocks of the terrible pain. The rush of protectiveness that surged through her veins was startling- it gave her such strength that she felt as though she could move mountains, take on countless enemies without tiring, or tear down the stars all in defense of her Clanmates. The agony had burned away the exhaustion, the lingering tendrils of senseless pain, and cumbersome unease, leaving behind only the most haughty of strengths. Heaving a shuddering breath in, by the time Brindlewhisker was aware of her surroundings once more, Willowwhisker had been replaced by a new face.

A face lost to the passage of the seemingly endless days, yet a face that still called throughout the presence of memories and dreams. The dark grey tabby before her sent a much welcomed spark of fondness crashing through her. Thistlefall, her first mate and father of her sons. Although the love she felt for the departed tom wasn’t nearly as great as the affection she held for Dewtuft, her throat tightened at the sight of the tom. An effervescent gaze, yet the mirrors of dark blue could not dissuade the mutually felt emotions in the current moment stirred.

”Hello my love.” Thistlefall’s voice rumbled with a powerful purr as he brushed against Brindlewhisker, allowing their cheeks to rest against one another for a brief moment. Inhaling his familiar scent, she savored the sense of comfort that arose from the tender moment. Comfort, security- so painfully unfamiliar during days such as these. Desperately sought, yet ever evaded- how could she yearn for the one thing likely unattainable during mortal days?

”Thistlefall, it’s been too long.” Brindlewhisker allowed herself a soft purr as well, unable to resist delving into the welcoming atmosphere that bubbled up around the starry tom. It was nice, that even for a heartbeat, that she could almost pretend that the burdens of Leadership weren’t weighing down upon her shoulders. Thistlefall’s head swayed in a nod of agreement, his head tilting slightly as he braced himself for the act that came next.

”You’ve waited this long to speak to me, I’m sure you’ll be able to wait a few more moons before we truly are able to catch up.” Thistlefall mewed, leaning forward to gently brush his muzzle against Brindlewhisker’s head in a manner similar to Willowwhisker. ”With this life, I give you the gift of humility. You have become so much more than anybody would’ve anticipated, but it’s important that you never forget where you came from. Use your past to tether you to the present and you’ll never lose yourself.” The pain that came forth wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as the past life, instead, it took the form of a gentle nipping that sharpened her senses. Memories that were once fuzzy from age were now burning with a newfound clarity, countless memories, and actions that had been forgotten with the passage of time branding themselves back into the center of her mind.

Pulling away from Thistlefall with a slight huff, Brindlewhisker was pleased to see how quickly the effects of this life faded. In its absence, a soft warmth tingled within her veins, brushing away any lingering tension that resided within her muscles. A small pit of disappointment opened up within her belly as she watched the tom depart, but before she could dwell on it too much longer, another cat was rising to take his place.

Oddly colored eyes blinked eerily at Brindlewhisker, immediately beckoning forward a name of a cat she had nearly forgotten. There was only ever one cat she had known with eyes such as those. Cloudrunner. Cloudrunner hardly seemed in the mood for any reminiscing like his predecessors, as he merely swept up before her and softly pressed his nose against her flesh for the briefest moment. ”With this life, I give you mercy. In this life, battles are won through showing kindness to foes you have defeated. Victory is never cemented through unnecessary bloodshed.” He rasped, voice heavy with his own memories.  Agony exploded through Brindlewhisker, flashing sharply behind her eyes. It was almost as though she had been transported into some epic battle where she was in the midst of meeting her fate. It felt as though countless claws and fangs were tearing into all the most vulnerable points of her body, ripping with the intent of killing. ”We are not savages who merely fight to kill, we fight only when we must. The act of offering mercy is one of the most difficult struggles we must face.”

Trembles wracked through her body as the frighteningly fierce pain began to waver and subside, but it was quite a struggle for Brindlewhisker to lift her head to meet Cloudrunner’s gaze one final time. Was that what death felt like? A newfound respect for all of those slain in battle rose up within her, rising and falling rapidly with the heaving of her chest. Cloudrunner departed with one last meaningful glance, an unreadable emotion simmering within the depths of his oddly colored eyes.

Striding up to take his place was a calico tom who Brindlewhisker didn’t even bother trying to recognize, as his slightly faded form gave off the appearance that he was easily much older than any of her memories. Trying to straighten up to her full height to meet the calico tom, her limbs continued to tremble slightly as he halted before her. ”I am Gorsefeather, a Medicine Cat who was born far before your time.” Gorsefeather grumbled, his cold scent acrid with the harsh flavor of slight irritation. Blinking up at the calico tom, she felt a heated mixture of embarrassment and frustration as she tried to force herself to halt her continuous swaying.

”With this life, I give you the gift of loyalty. You must learn that nothing will ever come before your Clan, not even those you care about. The burden you carry is a lonely one, but you will learn to bear it.” Gorsefeather eventually murmured, voice softening slightly as he leaned forward to knock his muzzle against her head in a rather ungraceful manner. She hardly had time to wince from the harsh gesture for a new tidal wave of pain was already ripping through her. It was sharp, full of grief and longing- as though everything she ever wanted was being held before her, but then yanked away from her grasp at the very last moment. Gorsefeather merely sat back to watch as she struggled against the raging inferno of torment that he had bestowed upon her. Head dropping forward and fervent pants bursting forth from her mouth, Brindlewhisker felt as though she could hardly stand.

”Always remember this pain, Brindlewhisker, for it will be with you every moment of your waking days if you ever betray your Clan.” The warning was soft, a voice full of vehement promise. A slight shudder ran down her spine at the thought of having to withstand such a turmoil every day. She surely was not strong enough to bear such a burden; she’d likely wither and die inside, her carefully orchestrated exterior crumbling away like ash in the wind.

The agonizing torment was cooling, leaving behind only a greedy wound deep within her chest. Allowing her eyes to drift shut for a brief moment, Brindlewhisker struggled desperately to compose herself. She was already so utterly exhausted by this seemingly everlasting suffering, that it was taking nearly everything within her to remain upright.

”It’s quite painful, I know.” A new voice spoke softly, undercurrents of sympathy sweetening the stranger’s voice. Forcing her heavy lids to reopen, she was greeted with the sight of an oddly colored grey and white tom with strange markings. Bright eyes gleamed from deep within the darkly colored face, a touch of kindness livening up their depths. ”But you must learn to endure this suffering, my friend. Often, suffering is our only companion whenever we lead.” Ignoring her shrieking muscles, Brindlewhisker forced herself to straighten up to her full height as she gazed back warily at the grey tom.

”And who are you?” She couldn’t even feign politeness at this point, especially if it was to a stranger who was intent on giving her much more pain.

”I am Stormeye, former Leader of WindClan from a time long ago.” Stormeye eventually mewed, a slight chuckle rattling his chest at her blunt tone, ”I come only to further you on the trail you run. With life I give you wisdom,” He paused for a brief heartbeat to softly bump noses with her, ”Use my seasons of Leadership and countless moons of experience to learn from the mistakes of the past. Never fear seeking council from those older than you.” The sensation that began within her toes was oddly soothing, winding its way up her limbs and through the center of her being with hardly any pain sparking in response. Countless seasons seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, shedding light on the surprisingly brief cycle of life that Brindlewhisker had become so accustomed to. Birth, life, and death seemed to emanate from the core of her soul, rippling outwards to the stars before her.

Basking in the strange sense of relief that welled up from Stormeye’s life, Brindlewhisker’s attention only returned to the present as soft, graceful footfalls caught her attention. Dark slate grey patches bled into starry white fur, while pale green eyes were alight with something darker than sorrow. The sight of Sageleaf only sent an uncomfortable pang ricocheting through her. Even after all this time, she was still so engrossed in her own jaded anger that the act of forgiving her former Medicine Cat seemed...unthinkable. Impossible.

”I’m sorry that things ended the way they did.” The blunt words that passed from Sageleaf’s mouth only sharpened the aggravation that bubbled up from within from within the darkest recesses of her mind. Lips twitching with the innate urge to spit out some crass insult or finally cave to the urge of outright snarling at the dead she-cat.

She had practically raised Sageleaf in the absence of Smokepelt and Hazefur, and yet she had come to loathe the thought of the cat who had been like her first born daughter? The bitter taste within her mouth was present once more, twisting her mouth up into a displeased grimace. Was it cruel of her to harbor such resentment for a situation that she likely didn’t fully understand? Probably. But often, the fierce anger was all she had to ward off the crushing sense of failure and regret that seemed to drift after her like an inescapable shadow.

”Just...do what you need to do.” Was all Brindlewhisker could say, a gruff hiss prickling her voice as she swung away from Sageleaf, gaze training on some insignificant piece of starry foliage. She was entirely unable to stomach the resulting look from her former apprentice.

”With this life, I give you the virtue of justice. When we make a choice to avenge those we love, our desperate need of personal justice collides with social and divine justice. We often wrongfully deem ourselves righteous in our selfish endeavours. Never allow your personal feelings to overcome what’s needed whenever making a decision between what’s wrong and what’s right.” Sageleaf mewed softly, her voice carrying the familiar tones of gentle strength that she had often spoken with during her time spent living. The grey and white she-cat’s movements were slow and soft as she gently leaned forward to touch noses.

Perhaps asking for an amount of pain similar to the one bestowed upon her by Stormeye was simply too much. The heated ache that rippled outward from where Sageleaf’s touch had ghosted against her flesh was more akin to a fierce stinging sensation; as though a swarm of angry hornets had descended upon her. It prickled and send highly unpleasant pulsations through her, but it was hardly as unbearable as some of the other sensations she had been forced to fight through during her ceremony. The edges of Brindlewhisker’s vision was blurred slightly as Sageleaf melted away from within range and back into the safety of the loosely ringed crowd. It was difficult for her to understand whether the ensuing tear in her heart was one caused by relief or regret.

There were very few times in this life where she had felt this exhausted. It was almost so crushing that she felt as though she simply couldn’t go on.

”You look tired.” The purr was sweet. Nearly sweet enough to wash away the biting aches that had stubbornly dug into her pelt. Blinking away the slight haze that colored the edges of her vision, Brindlewhisker’s head snapped up. The small white she-cat who stood before her, with her features drawn into a welcoming simper, made her heart skip a beat. The sight of Goatshade all but erased the conflict that had been brewing within her at the sight of Sageleaf. At once, hundreds of things bubbled up within her throat- she had so much she needed to say! So many wrongs that needed correcting, so many idiotic mishaps that needed to be explained. How I treated you, She longed to cry, I was so cruel. How can you forgive me?

It was as though Goatshade had read her mind. ”Oh quit making such a face. Everything you need to say, I already know.” There was a soft note of amusement reverberating from the white she-cat’s throat, one that helped melt away the plethora of sorrow that seemed to well up endlessly from within Brindlewhisker. ”You were undoubtedly quite a pain, but I could never hold it against you.”

Pressing forward so that their whiskers brushed against one another, Goatshade exhaled a soft breath that made her muzzle wrinkle softly with the urge to sneeze. The gentle ministration was comforting and sent a dazzling array of sparks rocketing through her chest. ”Soon we’ll have an eternity of time to catch up, but we can’t afford to squander any more of this precious time together. With this life, I give you the life of acceptance. Always cherish your Clanmates for who they are, for they are gifts, regardless of whatever mistakes they might make. They are like your children, regardless of the flaws and differences they might possess.”

Instead of pulling away like the others who came before her, Goatshade merely remained pressed against Brindlewhisker as the sensations began to claw their way through her form. Dozens of emotions seem to ripple through her all at once, tearing away the tension and exhaustion that weighed her down so heavily. It was full of serenity and bitterness so fierce that it practically stole her breath away. It felt as though a lifetime of fear had merely been rinsed away with a gentle reaffirmation. Only as the final tremors began to gently subside did Goatshade pull away, playfully nudging her muzzle softly against Brindlewhisker’s own.

”Take care of yourself, Brindlewhisker.”

There seemed to be a slight reprieve in the giving of lives. For several heartbeats, no starry-flecked cat swept up to take the place of Goatshade, instead the shimmering wall of loosely scattered cats only blinked back at her. Despite her slight confusion, the momentary break was a welcomed one, especially considering how weary she truly was- it felt as though she could easily sleep for a moon straight. Was the ceremony always this strenuous for others? Or am I just truly this weak? Chin dropping briefly against her throat to take the strain off of her stiff, aching neck, Brindlewhisker’s ears folded against her skull.

The fleeting sense of triumph that had often accompanied the lives she had received had dwindled to a weak flicker. Why hadn’t anybody warned her about how...difficult it truly was? The nativity she had felt in regards to a ceremony as sacred of this one made her want to shout in frustration.

”I know it’s difficult, but you must be strong.” Ashstar’s voice clawed away the tendrils of despair and exasperation that had encased her mind. Wearily lifting her head once more, Brindlewhisker’s heart faltered for several painfully long moments as she gazed at her former Leader. No longer was she the sickly, frail cat who had died at her paws, but instead she was a young Leader whose strength and youth had been returned to her through death. Never before had she seen her grandmother so vibrant and full of life. The sight of her kin sent a wave of joy so strong that she felt like crumbling to her knees- it was enough to wash away all the pain, weariness, and hurt from the other lives she had previously been subjected to.

”Ashstar!” Brindlewhisker felt the heated sting of tears well up in her eyes the longer she gazed at her grandmother. They had only been separated for a few hours at most, but it had felt like a lifetime. Especially when considering that Ashstar had been a staple presence in her life since she was but a few moons old. A purr rumbled in Brindlewhisker’s throat, rattling deep within her chest, as Ashstar halted in front of her. The two she-cat’s heads bumped together in an affectionate greeting, the familiar scents rising up in a cloud of familiarity and comfort.

”You haven’t even been gone a sunrise yet, but it feels like years already.” She admitted softly, blinking slightly at the sight of her grandmother’s alluringly bright gaze, ”I don’t know if I’m ready to be without you.”

Ashstar’s features hardened slightly, growing from an expression of welcome to one of stern understanding. Pulling away from one another entirely, the long-furred StarClan cat’s form seemed to ripple and sway oddly, pulsing as though it was an ever-flowing body of water. ”What kind of Leader would I have been if I did not prepare you for this day?” She began, reaching out with a forepaw to gently brush against Brindlewhisker’s cheek. The contact, despite Ashstar’s lack of a physical form, was soothing. ”Training those who follow in your steps is one of the most vital duties of a Leader. It might seem difficult now, but you are ready to live beyond me. The grief you feel now is only a temporary state of mind that will pass, just as all obstacles do.”

Letting out a sigh with such vigor that her shoulders caved, Brindlewhisker nodded slowly in agreement. Life without her kin seemed alien and unwelcoming, but she knew she could handle it. Even if she didn’t want to, she could. Blinking up at her former Leader, the two she-cat’s briefly rested their heads together one final time.

”With this life, I give you hope. Hope is like the sun; it is the foundation of all life that we know of. So long as you remember, that even during the darkest of nights, it will always be with you, you shall never find yourself without it.” The sensations that chased Ashstar’s soft touch were unusually gentle. It felt like a fire had been lit deep inside her once more, only instead of raging and scorching heat, it was a soft warmth. Visions of a life so sweet and bountiful were dancing behind her eyes, whispering promises of a life of plenty for her kits, their kits and so on. A hunger welled up within her, one that could never be easily sated by something as temporary a freshkill. What she craved was those visions. A lifetime of content with hardly any suffering in sight.

”Remember, you now carry the burden of Leadership. You are what this Clan will grow beyond.” Ashstar’s fading voice drew her away from the enticing visions that still stubbornly clung to her. She wanted to chase after her Leader, even if it was just for a few more brief heartbeats spent together, but before she could even take a step forward, something else caught her eye. Circling just a few tail-lengths away, was an unsettlingly familiar silver tabby pelt. Brindlewhisker’s brows furrowed at the sight, confusion weighing down her chest. Was that really who she thought it was? The momentary sense of joy at the wretched she-cat’s death didn’t outweigh her sense of looming suspicions that she now harbored.

Ivystar’s silver pelt rippled with starlight, pulsating and ebbing as though it were captivated by a strange living being. Every time Brindlewhisker twisted around in an attempt to catch a proper glimpse of the once formidable she-cat, the odd ethereal specks of light seemed to sputter and dwindle, leaving behind nothing but smooth tabby fur. It was utterly entrancing. The strange predatory gleam within the RiverClanner’s gaze nearly made part of her instinctively duck her chin down in an attempt to defend her throat from a potentially vicious strike that would likely never come. The other part of her subconscious, the much more irrational and hate-driven part of her, merely wished to lunge while Ivystar was still so close- regardless of whether or not she could actually be harmed.

”You must be far from home,” Brindlewhisker eventually mewed, unable to keep the seething note free of her voice, ”But I thought it would be safe to presume that even a cat such as you would know better than to stray where they aren’t welcomed.” Of all the cats that could possibly disrupt her ceremony, Ivystar just had to be the one?

A dry, humorless chuckle was exhaled past Ivystar’s teeth as her circling gradually drew to a halt. It felt strange at best to be in such a close proximity to a cat that she loathed so passionately.

”Not welcomed? The blood within my veins gives me every right to be here alongside whatever pathetic half-bloods they scrounge up for your ceremony. One could even go as far to say that I have more of a right to be here than any other cat here.” Ivystar retorted, a taunting note gliding through her words. Desperately struggling against the urge to bristle at the statement, she merely rolled her eyes in response. ”And here I was, assuming that all the gossip about how mad you were was nothing more than ill-intent rumors. What rights could you possibly have?”

However, instead of firing back another infuriating response, Ivystar merely craned her neck forward, easily swallowing up what little space remained between the bickering pair. For a painfully long heartbeat, Brindlewhisker was greatly tempted to pull away from the RiverClanner. After all, did she really need nine lives when eight could easily suffice? A part of her mind practically screamed to reject whatever purposeless life that the silver tabby was intent on giving. Unfortunately, Ivystar seemed to catch wind of the internal conflict that had been sparked within her, because her movements were quicker than those of a snake.

Viciously slamming their faces together with enough intensity to make Brindlewhisker’s eyes water, Ivystar’s resolve didn’t falter as she launched into her speech. ”As much as I dread saying this, I have come to give you your final life. With this life, I give you the gift of truth. Perhaps one of the cruelest virtues that we know, it is also the most vital. Lies weave some of the most dazzling and intricate webs we can possibly encounter, but lives cannot be built upon them. Never allow yourself to fall in so deep that you cannot pursue the truth.” Hardly able to wheeze in a breath before the pain began once more, she wrenched her head away as the tendrils of fierce pain began weaving their way down her spine. Ripping and tearing just as fiercely as all of the other lives that came before it, her teeth ground together tightly in an attempt to ground herself. Becoming much too engrossed in the agonizing struggle that pursued the freshly granted life, the sudden malicious spark within Ivystar’s eye when completely unseen.

Spine arching and dipping with each heaving breath Brindlewhisker hurriedly sucked in, poorly formed thoughts of relief swirled within her mind. It was done. She was done. All of her lives had been received and no further suffering would have to be endured. However, the brief moment of sweet solace was completely erased by Ivystar’s next words.

”The blood within the veins of those we love is the same, Brindlewhisker.” Ivystar all but purred, her voice practically dripping with a terribly smug tone, ”All of the precious kits you’ve borne have more RiverClan blood in them than anything else. Perhaps that’s why they’ve fared so well in this life- they have the blood of only the strongest Clan.”

It felt as though ice had been poured within her veins, turning the blood that raced within them to a poorly circulating sludge that cramped oh so painfully. The disbelief and outrage that flared up within her immediately was nearly blinding. Everything else seemed to fall away completely, even the pain, leaving nothing but the pair of bristling she-cat’s. It couldn’t possibly be true, could it? Ashstar and Smokepelt were both of WindClan descent, with Dewtuft being of similar origins...right? Viciously shaking her head in an attempt to clear the chaotic storm of disbelief and rage that now clouded her mind, it took a surprising amount of concentration to glare over at the dead cat.

”You’re lying!” Brindlewhisker spit, muscles turning to stone as she glared at Ivystar. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. She’d sooner claw her loins out than accept the reality of whatever lies that the other cat could be spewing about her kits.

”Oh Brindlewhisker, of the many things I am, a liar is not one of them. Why must you have such little faith in me? After all, I come bearing the truth however painful it might be.” Ivystar tutted, a mocking tone of faux disappointment and hurt singing her voice. Sweeping past Brindlewhisker once more, without the intention of returning, the tabby’s tail curled vexingly around her face. Footfalls fading rapidly into the slowly dimming territory that unfolded endlessly around them, Ivystar’s voice raised one final time, ”The answer has been right under your nose all along.”

Pausing for several painfully long heartbeats, Brindlewhisker could only gape mindlessly at her surroundings and the starry cats who blinked back at her, features void of any understanding of what had just transpired. Had they known all along, yet never bothered to at least try to explain what had happened? But who...who could’ve committed such an atrocity? Stop it! She was just trying to get into your head with nothing but volatile lies! She conscious, as doubtful as it currently was, hissed this statement fervently.

”Brindlewhisker,” The oddly strong voice of countless cats returned once more, derailing anymore panicked thoughts, ”You have now received the nine lives that are necessary when leading a Clan. We gather here to greet you by your new name and title; Brindlestar, Leader of WindClan.” The voices rose up into a resonating cheer, one that seemed to rise and fall with the ecstatic beating of her heart. Leader. She was Leader now. The energy that exploded into her veins at the realization pulsed with a youth-like vigor, filling her body with a strange tingling. It felt as though she could easily run to the ends of the earth without tiring. Even as the starry bodies of the cats around her began to slowly fade, the cheering remained long after they had gone- so long that, perhaps, she had merely imagined it all.

Tilting her head back to watch the rapidly dissipating sky, Brindlestar’s attention only seemed to drift back to the sharp sensation of something gazing at her. But she had just witnessed all of those who attended her ceremony simply vanish with the blink of an eye. The sensation only served to strengthen, the fur atop her spine and nape prickling as a result of the suddenly vicious feeling that overcame her. Dropping her head back down to its natural position, her gaze warily swept the hungry shadows that were crawling their way towards her. After a painfully long heartbeat spent searching the snarling, hungry shadows that seemed to be eagerly devouring the once serene realm, a spark of murky green caught her attention.

Were those...eyes?

The moment she blinked once more, the sullen depths of the shadows that were suffocating the lingering bits of ethereal starlight quickly swallowed whatever might of been lingering just beyond her reach. Although she swore that she had caught sight of a faintly familiar outline of a cat, it had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Perhaps it was just her overly exerted mind and body merely playing tricks on her as a result of the painfully long past few hours. Even though she knew now that nothing accompanied her within the fading dreamscape, the faint remnants of uncomfortable fear seemed to stubbornly latch on to her ruffled fur, digging in so deeply to her that it seemed to follow her into the waking world.

The wide space of the Moonstone's cavern, once bathed in the eerie silver light of the moon, was heavy with the shadowy light of predawn. The once bubbling glimmer of the sacred stone had bled into something softer, something hardly discernible to the untrained eye- Brindlestar herself was only able to catch the faintest flickering of the rapidly dying light just a whisker away from her face. Although her heart still seemed to be pounding with such a ferocious intent that it rattled her bones, the pain of receiving her lives no longer seemed to weigh her down. The sharp, gnawing ache of her grief still tore deep into her chest, but it did little to quell the raging storm of energy that flooded her veins. Stiffly hauling herself up from the cold, unpleasantly damp floor of the cavern, Brindlestar's posture was tense with a newfound resolve as she began to hurry towards the yawning tunnel that served as her connection to the outside world.