Scorchclaw's Leader Ceremony

The deputy ceremony was over. Ivybrook had accepted the role, and she would lead RiverClan as his second-in-command now. His deputy―the thought seemed out-of-reach, distant. What seemed like moments ago, that had been his position. In the many moons that he had spent under Jaystar, he had never forgotten that he would be leader someday. Even as he had rushed back and forth, pulled right and left by the many clan issues he had had to deal with, an awareness had always lingered in the back of his consciousness. If he lived long enough, the day would come when he would stand before StarClan to receive nine lives. That moment had never been closer to him than it was at that very second. Even so, a part of him was still struggling to see the reality around him for what it was; perhaps he was actually wandering through the dark depths of his imagination, while his true self lay unconscious in the medicine den. For so long, he had thought of leadership being in the future, that it was hard to accept that the "future" had changed to the "present."

"Mistlepaw." Scorchclaw greeted the medicine cat apprentice at the entrance of the Medicine Den. There was little to be said, between the two of them. "Are you ready?" The question was as much for himself as it was for her. Tonight, it would be the two of them making the journey to Highstones―one young, inexperienced medicine cat and one leader who had only grown more uncertain of himself throughout his time of deputy.

Mistlepaw had felt empty since the death of her grandfather. Starclan, she was too late to save him, and couldn't even say goodbye before his chest heaved one final time. She was a failure. A mistake. A burden. How could she possible be Riverclan's medicine cat when she couldn't even save their leader? Looking upon the broken and defeated faces of her clanmates only made her hate herself more. She had failed them all. She wasn't good enough. Just like she failed Fallowlight, Finchkit, and Jaystar, she failed her clan. What did they think of her now? Were they ashamed? They had every right to be. She was a failure. Tears stung at her eyelids as she prepared the herb bundles for the journey. Starclan had chosen wrong. She wasn't meant to be a medicine cat. This wasn't her destiny. It was Fallowlight's, one she had stolen away. As a result, her mentor's lifeblood spilled onto the sand as her eyes went dark and hollow. Her leader did the same just a few sunrises ago. Now, they both stared down at her, hatred probably brimming in her eyes the same her tears did. She..she had killed them. Their blood coated her paws once again."Murderer..murderer.." the voices hissed, dancing around in her mind as her claws dug into the earth. "Murderer...murderer..blood stains your snow white paws.."

"Mistlepaw."

Mistlepaw jolted, fur standing as she whipped to face the voice. Ah, it was just Scorchclaw. The deputy, soon-to-be leader of Riverclan. Would his blood be on her paws too? She couldn't stand the copper scent anymore, for it was embedded in her nostrils forever. The she-cat shook herself from her daze, sniffling as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Are you ready?" She remained silent for a moment, yellow-green eyes distant and lost as she thought of an answer. She wasn't ready. Wasn't ready for more blood to shed. Wasn't ready to be the cause. Even though her mind screamed at her to say no and retreat back into the darkness, she pushed it back. Shakily, the gray and white tuxedo forced herself up, herb bundles held carefully in between her jaws. "Y-Yes," she meowed quietly, voice cracking underneath the torrent of emotions she held inside. Without another word, she dropped the bundle at his paws, and quickly scarfed down her own. Though the taste was bitter, it did nothing to wash away the taste of blood on her tongue.

Neither leader nor medicine cat spoke a word more than what was necessary on the trip to the Hightstones. They were each other's only company, but each seemed to be so wrapped up in personal thoughts that he was barely aware of the other. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Scorchclaw must have known that Mistlepaw was suffering. Despite her young age, she had already seen so much. Beneath her helpless paws, Fallowlight and now Jaystar had passed away. The first had been her mentor, and the second had been both the leader and her grandfather. The pressure and the guilt must have been a crushing weight in her heart. It was a tragedy, for a cat of so few moons. Unfortunately, such tragedies were commonplace. No words of comfort could be found in Scorchclaw. The silence between them was oppressive, but the thought of breaking it felt even worse. The large tabby plodded along on heavy paws, over the invisible trail that he had traversed so many times he could follow it in the dead of midnight. What kind of conversation had taken place between Jaystream and Goldeneye, when they had walked this same path the fateful night of the former's ascent to leadership? Had this same unsettling quiet also been present, or had the two been able to take comfort in the presence of one another? The thought of their forbidden relationship stirred revulsion once again within Scorchclaw, but the feelings of disgust died away in a flash. A moon or two ago he might have had trouble believing so, but there were more important issues to dwell upon in the moment. The grass beneath their paws thinned out before giving way to gravel. Overhead, the darkness settled itself against the sky. Shadows, formerly put to sleep by the sun, roused themselves now that night was falling. They stretched out their long, deformed limbs across the land, hugging close every tree and every shrub, until all was obscured. By the time Mothermouth yawned before them, the stars had emerged and were standing sentinel in the night sky that seemed almost aglow with their shine.

Scorchclaw had never liked the trip through the tunnels. With the cold, damp walls just mouse-tails away from his whiskers, rock above and below him, and darkness wrapped around him so thickly it almost suffocated him, he felt hemmed in. In the absence of sight, his other senses were sharpened. Even his and Mistlepaw's pawsteps, which fell ever so softly, did not quite escape him. Their steps were guided by memory, every turn and stop they made guided by past experiences pulled out from within. The strong and familiar scent of RiverClan bound them together, keeping them from getting separated in the maze. Here, the ground dipped unexpectedly. There, a branching tunnel was cleverly concealed. On and on. On and on. On and on they went. Had the path always been this long? Once or twice, Scorchclaw wondered if they had unknowingly stepped into forsaken territory. Whenever the thought came up, however, he would swiftly dismiss it. He knew the truth. If he had made the wrong step, Mistlepaw would have corrected him. Rather, it was a certain hesitance within him, a certain reluctance, that made him waver. It was the conflict within him that caused him to flounder in reality as well. When the glimmer of the Moonstone broke through the darkness, Scorchclaw felt a tangle of emotions. While one part of him felt relieved, another part of him dreaded to see it. In that way, the trip through the tunnels was both overwhelmingly long and painfully swift.

Scorchclaw turned slightly, meeting Mistlepaw's gaze. An unspoken agreement of sorts must have passed between the two of them; both knew what to do. Padding forward, the new leader settled down before the Moonstone. At such a close proximity, the light was dazzling, filling his vision with its brilliance alone. He exhaled softly, his breath warming the cool stone surface. And before he could give himself any more time to think, he touched his nose to the Moonstone. The moonlight that spilled down from the jagged opening in the cavern's ceiling was cold yet strangely relaxing, tinged with an almost immeasurable power unrivaled by natural forces.

When was the last time he had been to StarClan's starry hunting grounds? The last time must have been during Jaystar and Goldeneye's trial. StarClan had never truly brought him any good memories...

Scorchclaw opened his eyes slowly. As he did so, the shining silhouettes around him sharpened into view. Tens―no, dozens of them and perhaps even more―were gathered in a great glittering host around him. Their gazes were trained on him, and him alone. As he rose to his paws, a murmur seem to sweep through the gathered cats. The new leader of RiverClan held his head up, an almost defiant air in his stance as he faced the ancestors. He stood bare before them, holding only his one life that had been granted him at conception. The time had come to see if they would consider him worthy of leading. And then the crowd parted.

---

A distantly familiar cat, gray and white pelt shimmering with stars, offered a small smile. "Scorchclaw," Swanpetal greeted him, seeming much younger than the last time he'd seen her. "I don't think any of us expected to see you here so soon... But plenty of good things come unexpected. Still, it's good to see you." She sighed, the weariness in her voice the only thing to betray her age. "With this life, I give you wisdom. In time, you'll find that sometimes the obvious solution isn't the right call to make. So, don't be a complete idiot, and you'll be fine."


Scorchclaw blinked to see Swanpetal, and his guard seem to relax ever so slightly. Here was a cat that he recognized, that he knew on a personal level. Just moons ago, she had been one of his clanmates―hunting, patrolling together. A dog had ended up claiming her life, and she had been one of the cats who had never returned from the mountains. All of a sudden, he thought of Wasppaw back at camp. Along with her mother's body, his apprentice had left a certain piece of her heart behind when she had returned to RiverClan. Wasppaw should have been there with him, facing Swanpetal; it was an impulsive feeling that came over him, not at all a rational one. Wasppaw was not present. For a moment, he considered saying something to Swanpetal about her daughter. Whatever words he might have been able to scrap together, however, died as she approached him. He narrowed his eyes, but did not back away. He understood what she was here for. It would not be altogether unpleasant if she were to be the first one to grant him a life. Instinctively, he lowered his head.

The pain that coursed through his veins in the next moments was raw and agonizing. In that brief span, it almost felt as if he had come to understand the treasure and burden that was wisdom. That was impossible, of course, but he had certainly manged to catch a glimpse of just how overwhelming it could be. His head reeled from the force of the new life seeping into his body, melding itself to his original one. He clenched his jaws as he took a step backward to steady himself. This life was only the first of eight total. The pain was within his expectation, however; he could handle it. As Swanpetal turned to melt back into the crowd, he finally managed to force out the words he had been meaning to say. "Wasppaw. I will watch over her." Whether or not she had heard him, Swanpetal showed no outward sign. But Scorchclaw knew that she had, and that was what he had to settle for. No matter what happened, he would be there for the tortoiseshell apprentice. It was another promise he was going to make.

---

Among the starry forms, a silver she-cat waited patiently. Her blue eyes bright and vibrant with starlight that made her pelt almost glow next to the other starry cats beside her. The familiar whispers of brown on her cheeks distinguishing her from other silver cats as she padded forward with delicate grace that had once been lost from a battle. The long furred she-cat stood before Scorchclaw. Her muzzle smiling and kind.

"Scorchclaw.” She purred softly, sadness in her blue gaze as she regarded the tom before her. "I want to thank you. Your care has helped Dappleshine blossom into a fine young warrior.” Her head lowered briefly, gaze flicking down in sadness as she forced herself to look back up. "You have done the best you could for all my kits, and truly, I could never be more grateful.”

"As a leader… you have a difficult road ahead of you.” She meowed softly. Her gaze flicking towards the forest behind her. Where the starry ginger form of Gingerstripe waited for her. She smiled softly at the reminder as she set her sights squarely into Scorchclaw’s blue eyes.  "It is important, so important, that you keep in mind that sometimes we make the wrong choices. No cat is perfect. Not even yourself.” The words were firm now. A she-cat not talking to a fellow warrior, but giving the guidance she felt she could to a budding leader.
"It’s important to forgive others, but even more, it’s important to learn to forgive yourself.” She leaned forward, pressing her nose to Scorchclaw’s. Allowing him to experience the torrent that had flowed through her in the living world. The free flowing forgiveness that gave Gingerstripe a home. The same feeling that flowed through her when she could have left Silverfang in her nest to cry and be soaked by the rain… only to shove her own differences aside to be there, for a she-cat who once hated her. A gentle torrent, that would wash through from tip to tip, taking with it the grudges and despair that life could bring. She pulled back after a moment. A sad smile on her muzzle. "This is all I can give you, please Scorchclaw, use the life I have gifted you well.”

With a dip of her delicate head, she turned and padded back to the line of cats.


Somehow, when his pale-green gaze fell upon Dewshine, Scorchclaw was not surprised. Had it been instinct or mere guesswork? Perhaps it had been the dying request of the silver-furred warrior that remained buried in some corner of his heart. All those moons, when he had struggled to raise Dappleshine and her siblings, their birth mother had watched from the stars. StarClan had taken her away from her kits, but she had never abandoned them. And, like Dappleshine had, she was now thanking him for what he had done. His expression was like stone, showing barely a hint of emotion. But within the depths of his eyes, pain flickered. "Do not thank me, Dewshine." He growled softly, his gaze briefly flicking to his paws. "Can you really say that, when you know what befell Rowankit? If I had done a better job, your son would not be among the ranks of these starry cats, tainted with immortality. You know the truth just as well as I do." As he spoke, he threw a glance to the small figure standing among the crowd, by Swanpetal's side. A young tomkit was watching the proceedings with wide, curious eyes. The sight caused Scorchclaw's heart to twist within him. "Forgive myself?" His unsheathed claws curled into the ground. "I―" Before he could go on, Dewshine touched her nose to his, cutting him off.

Different from the pain of Swanpetal's life, Dewshine's life had a completely different sensation to it. From a she-cat so kind, so forgiving, flowed the same strength that her daughter had inherited. Scorchclaw felt it sweep over him. The warmth that filled him was tinged with strength; it was not a blind and naive kindness, but it was also overwhelmingly gentle. Scorchclaw felt a sensation of comfort he had never felt before―a comfort that came only from knowing that all grudges were wiped away. It lasted for all of a few moments, before it faded to leave him feeling hollow again. When Scorchclaw somewhat shakily raised his head, Dewshine was already padding away. "I thank you, Dewshine..." He muttered.

---

The crowds of StarClan cats parted, and another cat stepped through to Scorchclaw. The tom was tall and lean, covered in a short pelt of orange tabby fur, his chest and paws a creamy white. Unlike many of the other StarClanners, he didn't look young. To the contrary- he was almost as old as when Scorchclaw had seen him last, so his fur was a little bit ragged around the edges and his whiskers tapered to scruffy ends. But his emerald green eyes glowed with a deep happiness that had been absent in the last moons of his life. He smiled when he saw the deputy, walking up to him and stopping.

"I hope you're not surprised to see me here," Gingerstripe told him, eyes bright. Though they'd never been particularly close or had any emotional heart-to-hearts, he'd always considered Scorchclaw a friend. And here the tom was... About to take over for Jaystar. "I know it's been a while, and it's good to see you. I'm happy with how well you did, helping out during the flood- and though everyone is sad at Jaystar's passing, very glad that the Clan will have new leadership. In your capable paws."
He nudged Scorchclaw on the shoulder in a friendly manner, then grew a little more solemn. The outline of stars shone vaguely through his pelt as he looked in the tom's eyes. "I'm not just here for a visit, though- I'm here to give you a life. The life I give you is for loyalty." He paused for a second and smirked slightly, a little bit self-deprecating. "I know, I know, it seems ironic- the exiled tom who switched Clans, talking about loyalty. But loyalty isn't always just about your Clan, though that may be one of the most important kinds. It's loyalty to your family, to your friends- loyalty to the core beliefs that form who you are. If that is the warrior code, as it should be for a warrior, then you must follow it to the utmost. As much as I loved Jaystar... that was one thing he failed in doing." He took a deep breath. "With this life, I assure you that when you are loyal to who you truly are, to the code and to the Clan, then you cannot fail. Always keep sight of the bigger picture, and never let your heart waver from what you know is right just because someone else may disagree. Stand strong, Scorchclaw." Gingerstripe leaned forward and touched his nose to the former deputy's, transferring the life with all its pangs of duty, burden of knowledge, of being rejected for holding true to your decisions. The pain of loneliness in your beliefs. But then, at the end, a tinge of hope and satisfaction that it had all turned out well, in the end.

The RiverClan warrior, former loner, former ShadowClan exile, stepped back with a slight smile on his face. "Good luck... I know you'll do well. Keep an eye on Dappleshine for me, will you?" With that, he vanished into the crowd.


The last time Scorchclaw had seen Gingerstripe, the latter had been lying on the shore of the lake, surrounded by driftwood and refuse swept up by the water. The swollen, bloated body had been bruised and riddled with shallow scratches. The water that he had worked so hard to adapt to had ended up claiming his life in the end. Now, however, Gingerstripe stood before Scorchclaw again, none of the horrors of his last mortal moments present in him. Unlike the other two StarClan cats that had gone before him, he did not seem to have grown any younger. Was it a punishment of sorts? Scorchclaw wondered to himself. Had the ancestors, despite accepting Gingerstripe into their midst, withheld the youth and restoration that had been promised in all their tales? Whether or not it was a punishment, Scorchclaw could only tell by looking Gingerstripe's eyes. The happiness―the peace―that shone within them told him all he needed to know. "It has been a while, Gingerstripe." Scorchclaw greeted, his tone bland.

While Scorchclaw would never admit it to his face, this was a tom that he had not regretted allowing into RiverClan. He still remembered the day Dewshine had brought her mate into camp. The exiled ShadowClanner that had stood before deputy and leader at that time had been thoroughly stained by his crime, stained as black as the other broken law that had born him. One would have thought that such a cat would have no future. Yet Dewshine had stood by his side the whole time, believing in him, forgiving him. Forgiveness―the life that the silver she-cat had just granted Scorchclaw played through the new leader's mind again. The warmth that had enveloped him had seemed so wide, so deep. It had seemed capable of swallowing any sin up. Such forgiveness was beyond him, he knew. But for a moment, he had been tempted to give himself over to it. Could he? Was it possible? The tom that love had redeemed was standing before him now. At his very last breath, Gingerstripe had been a loyal warrior of RiverClan. Even Scorchclaw could not deny the appearances.

Loyalty was a value that reflected the large brown tabby's very foundations. From his days as a kit, he had been driven by a loyalty to RiverClan. His heritage had been his identity, and he had clung to it with all the strength of his youth. He had been estranged from his clanmates, separated from them by a distance that he had more or less created on his own. But if StarClan only would give him a chance, he had been determined to show them just how loyal he could also be to the cats he loved. Dappleshine, Otterpaw, Wasppaw, Redpaw, Honeypaw, Tigerpaw, and Leafkit―these cats were his family, whether or not they were connected by blood. And above everything else, he intended to be true to his beliefs. His standards and morals had carried him thus far; he fully intended to continue following them. As Gingerstripe's life flowed into him, he believed he felt more certain of that than ever before.

"You do not need to ask me, Gingerstripe." Scorchclaw grunted, tired green eyes fixed on the departing StarClanner. "I will always be watching over Dappleshine."

---

The next cat to appear from the crowd of starry felines was a beautiful young molly with a brown pelt and cream markings. The only thing more distinguishable about her than the heart-shaped patch of fur on her chest was the familiar kind, soft sparkle in her eyes, yet they were still partially darkened by a certain sadness.


For a half-second, Scorchclaw simply stared at the cat before him with wide eyes, as if he could not immediately believe who he was seeing. Then his fur rose, and dark anger flashed in his gaze. "You!" He snarled. "Why have you come?"


”Hello, Scorchclaw,” Sweet meowed softly, her eyes seeming to sparkle more upon approaching him until they were only a tail-length apart from each other, feeling very proud of the strong and wise tom who had once been her apprentice. ”It is so nice to see you again after so many moons. I ... I know I am not your favorite cat to be seeing tonight, but ... I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you. You have done so well as RiverClan’s deputy, and I’m sure you’ll continue to do our Clan proud as leader. And with that, I will now grant you your next life.”

She rested her pink nose on his forehead, resisting the urge to lick or nuzzle him. She had always seen him as a son, even if he never knew. ”With this life, I give you heart’s desire. Even if you are faced with criticism, judgement, or prejudice, you must never let them stop you from doing what your heart tells you is right.”

Once the life had been delivered, Sweet stepped back, but not before murmuring, ”...I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me one day, Scorchclaw. I’m truly sorry for everything I have done.” Offering him one more broken smile, she pretty molly turned and returned to her place beside the rest of StarClan’s residents.


It had been so long―so long―since Scorchclaw had last seen Sweet. Yet he would never forget about her. To think, after all she had done, she was in StarClan. A low growl rumbled in his chest as she spoke. Her words were as sweet as her name suggested, but to him they were as worthless as the breeze in his ears. After she had broken the Code so many times, how dared she show up before him again? Was she not ashamed? She rested her nose on the top of his head, and every muscle in Scorchclaw's body consequently screamed for him to tear away. It was tragic, really. When she had first been assigned as his mentor, he had thought nothing of touching his nose to hers. Their relationship had changed drastically after Sweet's betrayal. As kind and deceptively sweet as her heart had been, beneath the facade there had been nothing but rot. She was a traitor who had betrayed not only him, but also the whole clan. After being exiled by Ivystar, she had died pathetically in twolegplace beneath her own son's claws. Scorchclaw did not even have it in him to mock her for her deserving end. When he looked at her, he felt only disgust. Here was a she-cat who had denied all the ideals he held dear. And was she to give him a life? No! He rejected the thought with all of his soul. "I do not need anything you have to give me." The words were right on the tip of his tongue...

Dewshine's words rang in his ears again, almost as if the silvery she-cat was still standing by his side. Scorchclaw paused. He could not forgive; he could not forget. But maybe, just maybe, it would be all right for him to set those burning feelings of hatred aside, even if it was only for a short time. The warmth that he had just experienced was still lingering within his memory. If it was now, perhaps he could do it.

As the force of Sweet's life faded and Scorchclaw opened his eyes, he found himself face to face with his former mentor. Apologies meant little now, after all the damage that had been done... "Sweetheart." Yet he stopped her before she could vanish back into the crowd. He paused for a moment, wondering if he was really making the right decision. "You thought me how to hunt, and how to fight. Those skills and techniques have stayed with me to this day. For that, I am grateful." So saying, he lowered his head. When he straightened up again, Sweet was gone, once more hidden within the crowd.

---

The peace of the afterlife was a fulfilling thing. Sparkfrost found himself contented to live among the stars, sticking close to Riverclan but flitting from clan to clan. Starclan had restored his mind, his memories, and brought back the foreign creature he had once seen as a previous Sparkfrost. All was one cat now. And he love fiercely all the cats he had met and loved in both lives. He watched over them now. Rested alongside his father and Goldeneye. The only thing he missed was Starlord, whose presence was not in the starry afterlife. Otherwise, he watched cats below, namely Dacepaw, and settled for peace. Lots of cats here were restless or had become resigned over the moons. But he was contented. This place had been kind to him.


It was a special time to be called away from depths. Something exciting was happening, even if it had meant the end of Jaystar's life. A new leader and as to rise after this ceremony and lead Riverclan in whatever trials may come. The blue cream calico trotted quickly towards the clearing and burst through unceremoniously when it was his time. Scorchclaw was there. Soon to be Scorchstar! He itched to call the leader by his new name. But the honor had yet to be bestowed upon him. Something else had to be given first. Sparkfrost spoke with his usual, cheerful tone, "Welcome, Scorchclaw! Starclan has allowed me to give you a life. It was a long journey across the starry plains but I think you really need this one. It will do you some good." He smiled a cheeky smile before padding forward.


Scorchclaw's impassive expression cracked, and bewilderment seeped through. "Sparkfrost...?" He asked, almost uncertainly. "What are you doing here?" Not quite able to process what he was seeing, his green gaze searched the other tom. The cat before him was undoubtedly one of Jaystar's sons, born from the leader's forbidden romance with Goldeneye. Just that morning, Scorchclaw had sent him on a patrol with Dappleshine. With everything that had happened in the following hours, the events of the morning already seemed ages ago; still, Scorchclaw clearly remembered that patrol. He could even recall word for word the simple greetings the two cats had exchanged. Yet, Sparkfrost was standing before him now, the stars sparkling in his fur no different from those in any other StarClan cat's. What had happened in his absence? Why was Sparkfrost dead? There were too many things he did not understand regarding the current situation. Before he could further question the other tom, though, Sparkfrost was speaking again.


"With this life, I give you joy. Lean into it, don't run. Riverclan needs a leader who knows how to smile as much as scowl." Almost too quickly, the former warrior bumped his nose against the tabby's in an abrupt manner. Heart-pounding energy flooded the other cat in an instant, threatening to explode his chest and at the same moment gave him the strength to run to highstones and back twenty times. It was unbearable, overwhelming, and.... wonderful. Grinning, Sparkfrost stepped back and dipped his head to the new leader and meowed, "Don't forget this one, Scorchy, its important!" And with that, he disappeared back into the starry landscape.

Scorchclaw could only stare after the departing Sparkfrost, his eyes wide with confusion. Joy? Of all the lives a leader could possibly receive, why joy? And that was only the least of the problems here. It seemed paradoxes never made sense... Sparkfrost was gone just as mysteriously as he had appeared, and Scorchclaw received no answers.

---

It had been devastating to die during the battle with the twoleg and its dogs. Lightstep had awoken in StarClan feeling wretched; he had left Sunpaw behind, abandoned her and left her alone just like all her other loved ones. The sleek RiverClan warrior had pleaded with other sympathetic ancestors to return him to his crippled niece, or to visit her in a dream, but she was unreachable and his body was already mourned and buried. The greatest gift that StarClan gave the tom was the gift of sight beyond sight: the gift to see the ones he had left behind. He followed his Clan home to the forest, racing through Silverpelt above them. He had felt each sting when RiverClan suffered a loss, felt the joy when they gained. Lightstep would never stop watching his Clan.

It had hurt when Lightstep had to watch his grandfather, Jaystar, be stripped of his StarClan-granted lives. One life was left for a leader who broke the warrior code, and that life was full of loss and suffering and misery. Lightstep watched his kin slowly starve himself, losing his strength of body but never strength of heart or mind. In the end, Jaystar had died for his kin - and they knew, now, beyond a doubt that they were his kin. Jaystar was welcomed to StarClan, transgressions forgiven (if not forgotten). Lightstep's own death had been similar; he had stopped eating to allow Sunpaw to gather her own strength. If he'd taken care of himself, would he and his niece both be alive right now?

There was no way to tell, and it didn't matter. Time didn't cease when a life ceased: with the death of Jaystar, Scorchclaw would ascend to leader status, and with the survival of Ivybrook to act as deputy, the cycle of Clan leadership continued and the world moved forward. Lightstep had respected Scorchclaw, the leader-to-be. They were not kin, and they didn't seem to share the same opinion regarding Jaystar's illegal romance, but they were RiverClan through and through, and that was a bond that ran deeper than the river itself. They had fought alongside each other, hunted beside each other, risked their lives for each other. Lightstep knew that Scorchclaw burned with a deep passion that he shared, but the latter's was veiled by a cool exterior that dimmed the fire.

"Scorchclaw. I'm glad to see you," Lightstep informed the dark tabby tom earnestly, stepping forward from the gathered StarClan cats a pace or two. His light amber eyes met the cool teal of Scorchclaw's, and he smiled lightly and admitted, "I didn't think I would ever be on this side of your leader ceremony... I always expected I'd be looking up to you on the Willow Banch, cheering your name beside our Clanmates. This isn't such a bad way to be involved, though."


Scorchclaw greeted Lightstep with a small nod. "Lightstep...." How many lives had he received now? His limbs felt heavy, and there was a dull throbbing in his head. Wisdom, forgiveness, loyalty, heart's desire, and joy―each life he had received thus far had been unlike any other, but if there was one similarity, they seemed to seep the strength from his bones once the initial rush of emotion had worn off. He was beginning to be unsteady on his paws. Since he had already endured five, there were only three more left to go. "It is indeed good to see you." There was little of the emotion indicated by those words in his tone, but Scorchclaw had not lied. While he and Lightstep had never been particularly close, he was well-acquainted with the warrior's honorable character and had never detested his company.


Lightstep's expression grew a little more somber, and he now addressed Scorchclaw seriously. "My grandfather and I bore our burdens alone, diminished our fears and our needs and our tribulations, for the good of the Clan. We took our weaknesses and our trials and we hid them from those who love us. Whether our sacrifices were in vain or not - whether our sacrifices were worth making, in the end - well, I imagine that depends on perspective. The undeniable truth is that we both died for it. We both died the moment that we chose to struggle alone and deny ourselves the support of our kin and Clan." His eyes had grown intense with a fire, and he told Scorchclaw, "You are a pillar of strength, a boulder in the raging floods, yet even the heaviest stone can slip without a stable foundation. RiverClan must be yours. You must let them support you, or you will crumble alone."

The sturdy white tom took a breath and proclaimed, "Scorchclaw, I give you a life of transparency, to never hide from your Clanmates a burden that could be lessened by their eager and willing strength." Lightstep leaned forward and pressed his pale pink nose to Scorchclaw's; StarClan seemed to flicker as the new leader's life was granted to him, a life of painful honesty and terrifying vulnerability - like purposefully exposing one's belly to a threat - that blossomed open to the warm glow of support, trust, and pride - the sensation of shoulders bolstering the leader to his feet, or gentle murmurs of encouragement ruffling his ear fur. Lightstep took a step back, his eyes warm. "You help your Clanmates to feel like they matter by giving them opportunities to serve their Clan and their leader; don't deny yourself the privilege of their support, and don't deny them the honor of your trust."

He dipped his head and backed away, feeling abuzz with joy.


Scorchclaw was silent as Lightstep spoke, but the latter's words caused threads of discomfort to stir within the former. It had some element of truth, what Lightstep was describing. In fact, one could even say that it was frighteningly accurate in regards to Scorchclaw himself. How close had he come to crumbling in the aftermath of the flood? As far back as he could remember, respect came more easily to him than trust did. The large tabby had always had the tendency to keep things to himself. Sometimes, that habit would eat him from the inside out. He knew what Lightstep was suggesting now, but the concept of relying on others in such a manner was almost foreign to him. It simply.. was not a part of him. Other cats would let him down―experience had proven that too many times. If the only one he had to look to was himself, things were easier. And it might have been considered a sad truth by some, but Scorchclaw simply did not have many cats he could confide in.

Still, as Lightstep stepped forward, Scorchclaw did not turn him away. The RiverClan leader accepted his sixth life. The feeling of vulnerability was not something he was used to; it was terrifying and suffocating, and Scorchclaw saw in it some of his deepest fears. Beneath the gazes of his clanmates, he felt smaller than he had ever been before. The thought of being so weak caused self-loathing to roil within him. Yet, for a moment, he wondered what it would be like to hold that amount of trust in someone. As the StarClan tom pulled away, the pure joy he saw in Lightstep's gaze caused him to blink.

---

A large and lumbering cat came forward, broad grey shoulders criss-crossed with scars of every kind and hair so long and thick it rivaled the moss decorating their former homeland. A somewhat unfamiliar cat to Scorchclaw perhaps, but one well-remembered by this starry tom. Warm eyes contrasted greatly with the rest of his appearance. If any cat he knew could see him now… well they’d first roll their eyes. Sometimes he was a bit too emotional for his own good.


At the sight of the stranger that now came forward, Scorchclaw straightened up, his gaze simultaneously growing colder. This was a cat he was unacquainted with... or at least that was his initial thought. The stars glimmering on every tuft of this tom's pelt did little to soften his formidable appearance. Multiple scars parted the thick fur, battle trophies that told of countless brushes with danger. What was somewhat surprising to Scorchclaw, however, was that when he looked into the gleaming eyes, he saw a certain softness in them. They seemed somehow familiar, and memories stirred within him at their prompting.


“Scorchclaw. ” The grey tom dipped his head slightly out of respect. “I’m not sure if you would remember me, it has been almost a full cycle of the seasons since our only meeting. Since the black sun flared back to life. You spared me, even as every cat around you chose to end their fights with bloody finality. I was Stonepaw. ” Perhaps he would remember then? Both of them had changed much over the moons past. The former ShadowClan cat especially. Though he spoke of truly the worst night of his life, he felt calm. He’d seen most of those he’d lost in StarClan, much to his surprise, as he had wondered whether StarClan could see him at all during the last seasons of his life. “I will admit that I’d wished you’d killed me like the others for many moons. I thought you cruel to let me live in a world without anyone left by my side and no home to return to. ”

“But.” Stonepaw came closer, enough so that the emotion in his eyes shone through. Perhaps a bit too much emotion, though at least it was clear he was taking this seriously - he had the spirit. Was the spirit? “In time I found more reasons to keep going. Away from the clans I could help anyone who needed it without worrying if they were friend or foe. I realized that I was happier outside the regiments of clan life. I could choose who my friends were by who they were, not who they followed. I could build a family if I wanted to. And I did.” His voice cracked the slightest bit. “I couldn’t have found that any other way. In time I thanked the stars you found it in your heart to let me go. So, thank you, Scorchclaw, thank you.”


At the mention of the name "Stonepaw," fragments of memories fell into place. Recognition flashed within the depths of Scorchclaw's green eyes. He remembered now. In the midst of the carnage and bloodshed, a young tom had stood brokenly among the bodies of his comrades. In exchange for dedicating his life to Lichenmask, he had lost everything. Scorchclaw remembered that Stonepaw. There had been no need to take his life, for he had already seemed dead on his paws. Had it truly been out of compassion that Scorchclaw had spared his life back then? Those days seemed so long ago now... He wondered if he had expected Stonepaw's fate to take a turn for the better. If there was one thing he was certain of, however, it was that the Stonepaw standing before him now seemed to have been free of regrets at his death. After a pause, Scorchclaw simply meowed, "When you were given a second chance, you made the right decisions. The happiness you received in the end was simply in return for your own actions. It had little to do with me."


He certainly didn’t have a heart of stone. The tom completely broke his intimidating appearance and pressed his head against the RiverClan cat’s shoulder, though he retreated quickly. Stonepaw owed him his life. A life, that’s why he was here. With a tad more formality and composure, he touched noses with the brown tabby.

“With this life I give you mercy. Mercy for your friends, enemies, Clanmates, and everyone in between. Give those who need it a chance to redeem themselves. Including yourself. Cats can change, but only if you let them. Especially if you let them.” He let the great wave of warmth and gratitude flood over him and into Scorchclaw, though his heart was still full as he returned to the clusters of StarClan cats for the remainder of the ceremony.

“Thank you.”


Stonepaw's life, while essentially different from Dewshine's, rang with many similarities. The two had practically the same message for him. Scorchclaw almost wanted to huff. StarClan seemed really intent on teaching him to let go of the past. They had never let him forget that. The thought was certainly enticing... If he did so, he would be casting off the chains that had bound him for so long. But some part of him was not ready. He did not want to let go, and he did not know if he ever would. The anger that he kept burning in him was the strength that had brought him this far. He accepted their blessings; however, he did not know how it would be possible for him to ever forget.

There was only one life left to go.

---

And at last, from the midst of the starry fog around, a familiar shape started to take form. The once weak, scarred leader was now younger, stronger and with a spark of youth that not many cats saw. All his scars were gone and he looked now like a young warrior, the age when he was happier in his life. His silver fur now was brighter, cleaner thanks to shimmering stars that now were part of it. He stepped closer to Scorchclaw and his green emerald eyes looked right into his soul. The tom knew what his former deputy thought of him... the good things and the bad things. But despite all that, he still held deep care for his successor and true concern of all what will have to face as the leader of Riverclan. Jaystar smiled a bit, finally in peace.


"Jaystar." Scorchclaw greeted tensely. For the first time, he did not lower his head. There was no need to. After all, the two of them were no longer leader and deputy, mentor and apprentice. With Jaystar's death, those bonds between them had been severed. Now they were an experienced leader who had already passed on, and a soon-to-be leader. They faced each other for a moment, neither one saying anything. Jaystar might have been waiting for Scorchclaw to speak further, but the brown tabby tom remained silent. His expression was stiff, seemingly frozen. There was little emotion to be seen in his eyes this time. Such a carefully guarded facade could only be the result of deliberate effort. He was regarding Jaystar with wariness.

Just hours ago, the former RiverClan leader had spoken his last words to his clan. At the time, Scorchclaw had shed his first tears by the dying leader's side. The outpouring of those emotions, the suffocating feelings he had kept within him for so long, had left him feeling drained and empty. Now that he was facing Jaystar again, he did not know how he felt. The old anger and hatred, mingled with the intense grief he had experienced at the tom's death, caused a complicated tangle within his heart. He had no idea how to straighten out the knots so that his feelings could make sense.


"I'm glad we can meet again, Scorchclaw. And it makes me happy that Starclan chose me to be the one to give you your last life and your new name." Jaystar mewed, his voice deep and stronger than usual. There was an enigmatic aura around the former leader as he got closer to the tom. He took a glance to all the cats now surrounding the new leader and smiled at seeing so many familiar faces. All of them were here for him... just like in his leader ceremony. during the passing moons, he had forgotten he was never alone, not even from the start. And with this... he hoped Scorchclaw would never forget as he did. All these cats, were here for him, for his destiny. "Your leadership is a blessed one, Scorchclaw. You are a loyal, strong tom and though you have doubts in yourself, all of us are certain that you will be a great leader one day, with patience and understanding. My legacy in the clan will be passed down to you... and it will become your duty to protect Riverclan, make it stronger. Is a hard task, a heavy responsibility. But you're stronger than I was in your place." He mewed with a calming tone and a small, reassuring smile on his face.


Do you believe that? Do you really, really believe that? Scorchclaw clenched his jaws, holding back the questions that he so desperately wanted to ask. Those were nothing more empty words... Had not StarClan told him that? Yet there was a portion of his heart that eagerly clung to Jaystar's words.

The tall tom leaned forward, a hair from touching the tom's forehead. "You might have thought that I would be the one to give you the life of forgiveness, probably to teach you that you need to let go of my mistakes as your mentor and as your leader. But that was not my life to give. You will forgive on your own when you're ready to do so. It will be up to you..." And with those words, his nose touched his head, giving him his lasting life. The painful energy of the new life trespassed to the brown-furred tom one last time as Jaystar closed his eyes, letting it flow through this body to his deputy's. "With this life, I give you justice. Use it well to judge with fairness to all those who attempt with the safety and integrity of your clan. Punish those who have to be punished, without hesitation, yet forgive those who deserve forgiveness." Jaystar stepped back from the new leader as he received this lasting gift from Starclan.

"With your ninth life, I have the honour to make you a leader at last, under the eyes of Starclan. From this day on, you will be known as Torrentstar. Seasons they will change, life will make you grow. Like a torrent, you will be unstoppable, learning from every passing moon and taming all the monsters and enemies that will come. Be ruthless, be fair and be brave." With that final affirmation and a last one touch on Torrentstar's forehead, the ceremony was over and a Riverclan was reborn from the ashes of his own death. With his rise, Riverclan will now live a new era, hopefully, a shining one.


Scorchclaw instinctively closed his eyes as the final life rushed into him. Justice was searing hot, burning with zeal for the wronged; it seemed to set his every vein, every artery, on fire. Yet he bore with the pain, refusing to let even a whimper leave his jaws. From the memories of moons past, one randomly drifted up. Had this been the same justice that had fueled Ivystar as she had stormed ThunderClan camp demanding retribution? To those who needed it most, however, the flame was a warming comfort in a cold night. Without a doubt, it was a quality he would need as leader. As someone who knew what it was like to be lacking in strength, he had no intention of being a leader who trampled over the weak. When he opened his eyes again, the world seemed to spin before his eyes. Scorchclaw's unsheathed claws dug into the starry ground as he fought to stabilize himself.

Jaystar's next words rang in his ears. Torrentstar―the name was unfamiliar, not the one he had been given at birth. Yet it was strangely fitting, bringing to mind the image of a powerful, rushing river. It destroyed, but it also nurtured. This would be his new identity. He could not leave his many mistakes and weaknesses behind, but perhaps this could be considered StarClan's way of giving him another chance. He accepted the name, and as he did, he felt the power of all nine lives pulse briefly through him.


The shiny world around the new leader started shifting, pushing away from the starry plains of Starclan. There was nothing else to be done now that the ceremony was over and it was his time to go back. Each cat who welcomed him started to disappear in the tornado of stars and darkness but before Torrentstar could fade away from this realm, a few words could be heard from the former leader of Riverclan. "Train my daughter well as your successor. Be a better mentor than I was."


At last, the long ceremony was over. Torrentstar felt the heavy pull of reality tug at his consciousness. The stars about him grew brighter and brighter, until they seemed almost blinding. Details began to blur out of focus. Distantly, he heard Jaystar's last words to him, almost like they were filtering through moss. "Goodbye, Jaystar." He found himself suddenly saying. Goodbye. Beyond Sweet, this was the cat that had taught him most of what he knew. Until he had found out about the forbidden romance, there had been no other cat he had admired as much as he had admired Jaystar. And now he would never see this cat again in the mortal realm. Unexpectedly, his heart ached with a sharp pang...

Then Torrentstar slipped from the starry realm, falling back to reality.



OOC: Thanks to Holly with Swanpetal, Cays with Dewshine, Ash with Gingerstripe, Yosh with Sweet, Ripped with Sparkfrost, suma with Lightstep, Night with Stonepaw, and Jay with Jaystar! ^^