The Illusion of Independence [closed]

Aspenheart’s dream from many nights ago remained on his mind. It came with a sense of dire urgency, having been received when he wasn't even at the Moonstone, and every spare moment he had was now devoted to deciphering what it must mean. He normally slept in the comfort of the open sky, but tonight he would need privacy. He retreated into the back of the medicine den, accessible only from a tight squeeze, and allowed himself to lie down. Then, the thinking began.

He stood in a desolate, sandy field. A flower bud, not unlike the ones he saw on the moor, was mere inches in front of him. Touch it, touch it, touch it. Dipping his nose to the flower bud, it suddenly bloomed in a vibrant shade of yellow. A daffodil? With it, suddenly bursting out of the ground came herbs of all kinds, filling the barren land with greenery. The wind picked up from beneath his paws, and he was shocked to find that the pelt he stood in was not his own. It was a light brown tabby... Mintwhisker! He stepped forward, and to his shock, the pelt fell from his own like pollen on the breeze. He stood alone in the field with the little daffodil, in his own skin, and the whispers of one thousand ancestors calling out to him.

He had a few ideas, all of them coming back to the sudden unsteady ground that WindClan stood on. The urgency that StarClan had communicated their message had been a gut-punch. He hadn't even made it to the Moonstone before they presented themselves to him. Aspenheart couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility for what had happened over the last few sunrises, having been one of the strongest supporters of reopening the tunnels. Of course, it was easy to blame StarClan, who had bestowed the knowledge of tunneling onto the warriors, but the medicine cat in his level-headedness saw it a little differently. He imagined the future like a great river, off of which pools and streams break from the main course of time. Who was to say StarClan didn't see every ebb and flow of the future and, like WindClan, decided it was a worthy risk to take? Of course, cats would do as cats do: speculate and argue and disapprove until they were the unfortunate saps who had to make the decisions up in the sky. What did it all mean for the medicine cat, at the end of the day? Well, certainly more pressure. Infections, gashes, bites, and the dreaded foaming-mouth haunted him. With Leaf-Fall close on his tail, he had a lot of anxiety about supplies and hands that he certainly didn't have. It wasn't like he could go hunt down the fox himself. He had a little chuckle about the mere idea.

Returning to the vision, he focused first on the flower. Blooming could mean many things, but what matter is that he touched it to his nose to activate the change. By his paw, the flower grew and thrived, bringing with it a lush field and the great wind. Clearly, he was involved to a heavy degree. Was the flower... someone? He thought of Cloverpaw, a gentle soul of a tom. His name was the name of a flower. But, no, it couldn't be all that simple. Mintwhisker's fur that he inhabited stumped him. What did any of it have to with her? And then, like a disoriented fly in the dark, it hit him. He was stepping into her pelt. He was doing what she had done for him, and passing down what he had learned. Through a flower, he would find a lush field of herbs... and plenty of help. An apprentice.

"Is that what you want?" Aspenheart whispered to nobody in particular. "I guess I wanted to do it by myself." He shut his eyes tight and took a deep, wavering breath. "We don't always get what we wish for, do we, Nightrunner? Alright, I'm going to trust you on this one. But I wouldn't even know who to pick, and I've got to do it soon. Give me some time."

When he exited the darkest part of the den, he realized that it was already morning. He stretched out his shaking paws and stepped outside, awaiting the warm glow of the sun. He found no such thing, of course. The clouds were heavy and the air was wet. The most striking thing, of course, was the dense fog that had rolled into camp. The dense mist. He groaned loudly and looked skyward. "Real cheeky of you! Well, the joke's on you, friend, because I was already considering her anyway!"

There was nobody who understood life and loss like Graybriar's litter. Any one of them would sympathize with cats in harm's way. Cloverpaw was a bit too impulsive for the job. He probably wouldn't react well to Aspenheart asking him to spend the rest of his life in the medicine den, anyway. Goldengale was a proud cat, an established warrior... and the silver tom was pretty certain she'd in the nursery with Grousefrost's litter in at least two season. But Mistystripe was gentle, tender, and empathetic. She was curious, and a good listener. She would make a fine medicine cat. And so, Aspenheart found himself padding up to her on his wobbly legs. "Mistystripe, could you come with me? I'd like someone to eat my breakfast with." He smiled softly, doing his best to keep his intentions a secret.

Mistystripe looked up from where she had been quietly grooming herself to see her medicine cat standing before her. It was odd of him to ask her of all cats to eat with him, considering the two had never interacted much. Either way, she nodded. "I would love to eat with you, Aspenheart!" She smiled warmly at the tom before standing up. With a stretch, she padded over to the fresh kill pile, picking a small rabbit before joining Aspenheart once more. She had to admit, she enjoyed company, but something just didn't feel right. It wasn't odd in a bad way, per say, something just seemed up.

She looked Aspenheart over. He didn't seem to hold his same stature. He held a more soft gait than usual, which was her first sign that he was hiding something. What he was hiding, however, was beyond the young she cat. But instead, her questions lead elsewhere. "How is Cloverpaw doing? I heard he might be able to resume training soon!"

"Your brother is wily, and his legs are getting too long for his nest. Even if I wanted him to stay, he's going to bouncing off the den walls any day now!" Aspenheart laughed a little, thinking of Cloverpaw's lighthearted antics. He set himself down in the grass of the medicine clearing and dug slowly and carefully into a fat Greenleaf rabbit. His eyes remained fixed on Mistystripe. Had he interpreted the signs correctly? The fog had cleared by now, giving way to a grey sky speckled with blue gaps in the clouds. The sun had still not totally breached the horizon.

"How's being a warrior treating you, Mistystripe?" The medicine cat began. "I was supposed to be one, you know. I didn't finish before I bonked myself on the head. I never got to know what it was like. Is it nice? Do you have any... issues with the ways of WindClan?"[/color] He paused to swallow a bite. "This isn't a test or anything. I won't report you to Finchstar if you tell me you hate the Code. You're young. Full of ideas. I wish I was still as young as you. I was an angry apprentice. A real piece of work. But I don't think I would have been happy as a warrior, deep down. I feel purpose here."

A glint in his eye pierced Mistystripe's face. "What do you feel purpose in, kittenfluff?"

Mistystripe paused a little. “I-I don’t hate the code,Aspenheart. But I will admit there are things that I don’t agree with. I don’t want to hurt any cat Aspenheart,but the code won’t let me get around that....”  She looked ashamed to be admitting this. To her, it made her feel like she was weak. So she merely nibbled on her rabbit, keeping her gaze down. 


“So,um, may I ask why you are so interested in me today? It seems a little odd now that I think of it. You never particularly cared too much about interacting before. I’m not faulting you or anything, I could have easily sparked a conversation myself. And you are busy. I just want to know what is different today.” 

Aspenheart smiled kindly, an expression reserved for the most sensitive of times. He was not outwardly kind or motherly in nature. He supposed he would have to be for Mistystripe, if she even accepted this proposition. Of course, he had to phrase it correctly. He took a deep breath.

"There's something coming, and our times of peace are going to end," he explained, "Puddlepaw is dead. Your sister is injured. This is unlike any fox issue we've had before. Somehow, we haven't driven them out yet. And on top of that, a vision has plagued me for moons and moons. A flower that blooms by my paws... a long and heavy mist..." There was no easy way to explain everything to Mistystripe. Aspenheart chose the route of bluntness.

"I have reason to believe StarClan has called for you." He allowed to realization to set in for a minute, and then continued. "I don't know what that's like. I was not volunteered by our ancestors. I was faced with early retirement, and I ran from my fate. Took it into my own paws, and with Mintwhisker's help, I proved myself in the eyes of the ancestors. But you... you're different. They're convinced you have a unseen gift. And, well, I need somebody now, before it's too late." Aspenheart allowed his gaze to harden. "This is not a light decision, and I don't expect you to know what to do right now. You've been a warrior for so long, and we'd have to start your training from the beginning. If you need time, you'll have it. Alright, Mistystripe?"

The medicine cat rose to his paws, scanning the young she-cat's face. He waited with anticipation for whatever she would say next.

Mistystripe was shocked. What would she say? She wanted this so badly. As a medicine cat, she would be able to help cats in need, rather than hurt them. And she could keep her family safe. It was everything she had wanted ever since StagClan gave her a desire for peace. Of course, she still didn't believe in their methods, but that was besides the point.

Of course, there were also bad things that came with being a medicine cat. She would never know the feeling of having a mate or kits. Okay, that wasn't so bad, she didn't want those anyway. She would have to take the painful journey to the moonstone every half moon and actually go inside. Perfect way to get rid of her claustrophobia, she supposed. 

The she cat could not think of anything else that was bad, and everything that was bad had a counter. It was clear in her mind what she wanted to do. Now for the hard part. Actually phrasing it.

"Aspenheart.... This is something that I have wanted for a long time. I have always wanted to help cats rather than hurt them, but it had seemed my fate was set to be a warrior. Now I have the chance to walk the path of a medicine cat. How can I possibly turn up an offer like that? And if it truly is StarClan's calling for me, then I simply cannot refuse. I would be glad to be your apprentice, Aspenheart." Dipping her head, she stood up with the tom, waiting for his next response.

Aspenheart placed his paw reassuringly atop his new student's. She was certainly worthy. WindClan deserved the helping hand in what would apparently soon be a desperate time. "We'll go to the Moonstone tonight to get your blessing from StarClan. You'll be accepted with fervor, I'm sure. They were... especially urgent with their message."

The medicine cat rose to his paws and cleared his throat. "I won't be the perfect mentor. I didn't anticipate doing this so soon. I'm sure you understand. I guess you could call me independent." He sighed defeatedly. "But you deserve a good shot at this, so I'm going to teach you everything I know. My days are numbered, 'cause of my dumb head. When I'm gone, they'll need a cat like you, yeah?" Aspenheart hobbled into his den, turning one last time with his familiar impish look returning.

"Go tell your mom and pop. I'll see you come sunhigh!"