The Other Side of Paradise

Darkness, an impenetrable wall that split the very threads of reality. Between the lines lay Finchstar's clanmates, safe from the terrors that now held him captive. Their lives carried on after the battle passed, unaware of his excruciating proximity as he padded to the moonstone. For their peace, the leader would die a thousand times, but he was scared. His walls had been torn down along with his dignity, and in the middle of it all lay a fragile bluff. A vast, wide thing that could buy his clanmates sometime. Finchstar would not survive this fate, no, however his blinding optimism for peace would not forsake those he cared for. It was a humble decision to make, however the leader watched the stars and knew that life did not end when his heart beat its last breath. There was a love stronger than any other, one that waited beyond the border of death itself. He was scared, but he was not fearful.

"This way." Finchstar spoke in a gravely tone, ducking under a patch of dried heather, fur raised high on his shoulders at every breath from the cats that followed. He was on edge, constantly throwing a glance over his shoulder, never willing to be caught unprepared. Yes, he would die tonight, but he would do so on his own terms. The Thunderpath had lost its terror in the midst of the beasts that now stood in its presence. Finchstar imagined he'd never be scared of anything else so mundane again. He had seen the very face of fear, and it had dulled everything around it. The rumble of bright lights and large black paws roared past them, and then the three travellers crossed with ease. Any onlooker could imagine them acquaintances, friends even. However a sparkling tension sat between them, one that threatened to throw the leader into oblivion.

The moon only rose higher as they climbed up the stones. Finchstar remembered the battle with the dogs here, twice he had faced them. Frozenpaw had given her life, Shellpaw as well. Their names were ingrained into his mind, and the stones that had crushed Sharptooth as the clans returned home. But now Highstones stood tall, an unsullied image of StarClan and their presence. Finchstar had never been such a devout follower, but he had always respected those that had gone before. Brookclover didn't share his fate, but as she rested with the stars now, Finchstar could only hope to join them one day. It seemed that this night would fufill his wish. "Through this tunnel here. It will be dark, however at the end is where you'll find this power. I'll lead the way."

"Faster." Pakhet growled, finally. Their journey was not too far, given their camp near Windclan was one of the closest places to the clan's sacred grounds. And yet, paws itching at the thought of something as magnificent as the ability to overcome death spurred on her impatience. They would see how real these ancestors were, and their true power, as she too would take up immortality. The Asylum had never seen such a fearsome leader as this she-cat, perhaps other their their Head, until now. Her gaze darkened and there was a flash of a soft grin. She hardy spared Theron a glance the entire way. Making sure this cat did not drift away was far more important than commodore.

Her eyes traced up the looming stones, and she followed his lead. Any other time she would have been agitated to stare at another cat's tail, but pride had to be put on hold for the grander purpose. As she peered into the darkness of the cave, once the reached the entrance, an unsettling feeling fell over the she-cat. She longed for a thicker pelt across her back than the raccoon she had hastily tossed onto her back. Although every ounce of Pakhet's instinct demanded she run, instead she plunged into the darkness after Finchstar. If this was some sort of trap, her and Theron would overcome it easily. However, she didn't think this tom would foolishly waste time, especially with Dae and Ov still behind. These clan cats wouldn't win.

No, soon Pakhet would be more powerful than any cat that had ever walked the forest.

Theron silently followed after the two leaders, her gaze completely fixed on the moor cat, lest he try something. She had her disbelief about this entire thing - immortality...It didn't make sense! It didn't exist! And yet...And yet somehow the tom was alive again. She had seen the coldness of his pelt, the dullness of his eyes. He had been dead, yet now he walked and talked like any other cat - cats who hadn't had their life snuffed out. It made her pelt prickle at the sheer through of it, trying to wrap her head around it all.

She paused as the strange leader stopped outside of the cave entrance, eyes narrowing. She didn't like it - not going into something so tightly confining, some place that they weren't aware of but the tom did. But...It looked like a tight fit, the tom's speed would mean little in such a confined area if he tried something. He would have to fight both of them to escape - granted there wasn't another entrance... She growled softly to herself as she followed the duo into the tunnel, wanting to see what apparently granted the tom such amazing powers that waited at the end of the tunnel for them all.

The glow could be seen even from the far tunnel. Finchstar needn't even enter the chamber to be stunned once more by the stories that lay beyond. He stopped for only a second, but it felt like moons. His frame clogged the entrance, and he stared vastly into the depths of the Moonstone, a shaky, emotional breath falling from his maw. "Brookclover." He whispered to himself, silent tears dripping from his eyes, face still as stone. The fear had been overwhelmed by his burning desire to see his mate once more. Should he die here, he'd think of it as mercy. A fitting end to his story, a passage onto brighter fields. WindClan would be in Raventail's paws. And his deputy - his friend, would lead it well. There was a time when that black tom would have been considered a son. And it was ever present. It was not shone in the usual ways of displays of affection or a fatherly gaze. Finchstar was never meant to be a father, and perhaps that was the reasons his biological sons had found their fate sooner then expected. But the leader was meant to be a friend, a friend to WindClan, a crusader for peace and all the love and good in the world. He exhaled and stepped into the underground clearing, turning to Pakhet and Theron.

"Lie down, press your nose against the stone." Finchstar followed his own directions, paws feeling numb with an ethereal realization. Brookclover sat beyond the border of life and death, and she was waiting. His duty had been fulfilled. He had loved, and he had been loved. Finchstar prayed that his small sacrifice would gain WindClan enough time to kill these beasts who called themselves cats. A beat of the heart, and the tom dipped his head low and fell into darkness. More silent than death, yet loud. The strings, oh so many strings. His freedom had been wiped away a long time ago, but now Finchstar leaned on his ties to those he loved. Ties to the moor, to his clan, to the peace that would come through his successor. Finchstar had brought the idea into the world, yet Raventail would carry them farther. He chuckled in the gloom, the light of the moon blotting out all stain.

I'm ready. Finchstar spoke to himself, finding he'd miss the adventures life had given him. But it would continue on, it would march beyond death into StarClan's sacred forests, until even memory itself had released him. He'd fight of course, when Pahket awoke without the power she craved so dearly. But Finchstar's body was weak. His throat dripped with crimson, and his soul wished to move on. The tom's fur stood on end in the horrifying silence of the moonstone. This time no nine cats would come to gift him with lives. This time, Finchstar would arise to the very same chamber, and he'd fight until he died. The greatest bluff of them all. A smirk passed his maw at the thought, until a voice shattered his conscious. Brookclover.

Just as it seemed the lack of light would become insufferable, there was a dazzling brilliance that sliced through the blackness. For a moment, Pakhet's eyes widened in awe. But it was only a brief second before they returned to their usual, calculating slits. There was nothing that could cause the she-cat to disregard the basics of common sense in which she had been raised. Her gaze refocused on Finchstar. As he pressed his nose to the stone and instructed her to follow, she beckoned Theron with her tail. While the glorious shine of the moonstone prevented any cat from being able to hide among the crevices, there was always reason for caution. As she did so, her companion would watch. And even as the bulky rogue settled down, her claws lazed unsheathed in preparation and her legs were not tucked underneath her body. If she was to dream, then she would welcome rest uneasily.

As her nose barely grazed the surface of the stone, a bone-chilling cold seemed to be sent throughout her limbs. It caused an involuntary hiss. Pakhet glanced in Finchstar's direction. How was he so easy with such a sensation like this? As the hiss died out, she tentatively closed her eyes. In several measured moments, the world around faded and descended into blackness. There had been an expectation of some awe-inspiring vision. But for now, there was nothing. And yet in the matter of rest, the she-cat could not remember why she had come, only that she was seeking something. Gradually, there were flashes of memories, interspersing the sensation of a hunt. More than once, the yowls of her Asylum companions rang in her ears and drove her forward in search of the unknown prey. With each step, the frustration grew. Every rustling of foliage or slight snap revealed to be nothing. It was only a meaningless step after meaningless step.

With the frustrations rising, a guttural snarl began to rumble in her throat, one that broke the barrier between the dream world and that of an awakened state. There was not a single thing to be found beyond some trivial dream. As her eyes snapped open, the snarling still rumbling, one thing was clear... he had lied to her.

***

"Seems like little loner wasn't pleased with her revelation. Now, go shred her tail."

The jolt sent through his body seemed to give Finchstar new life. There were no starry fields, no images of cats that passed long before, but Brookclover's voice, and that was all. It was enough to start his heart again, and the tom opened his eyes and launched himself from the stone, whirling around to face Pakhet and Theron. His greatest bluff of all. "You were foolish enough to believe such power could come from a mere stone. No. It stems from our ancestors, from those whom we have loved, in which you have none. Kill me, and kill me again. You will die tonight, cat. Your treachery will never see the light of day." Finchstar flexed his claws and smiled, knowing that a thousand forces of StarClan now stand at his back. Cricketstar, Ryepelt, and his beloved Brookclover. He would fight for them. For WindClan. For the peace that would come to the moor.

With a mad hiss, Finchstar launched himself off the stone and barreled into Pahket, slamming her against the cave wall. The light of the moon cast shadows over their bodies, the dark shape of blood breaking the glow. They rolled over stones, crashed into StarClan's sacred place, and ripped and teared with the force of lions. Finchstar knew he would die tonight, he always knew. But Brookclover's voice had revitalized him once more, reminding him of what he truly was. A warrior. "...even at the cost of your life?" Yes. All six.

Finchstar used Jumping Strike on Pakhet, dealing 16 damage and costing 20 stamina.

Finchstar
HP: 100/120 (-20 from previous neck wound)
SP: 280/300 (-20)

Pakhet
HP: 59/75 (-16)
SP: 200/200

The silence of the tunnels was broken by a series of furious hisses, forcing Goldengale's paws to carry her faster. The darkness was unsettling, it was almost too dark... Wait, there! The brilliant pinprick of light emanating from the Moonstone called her to her destination, and in it's light she saw three cats.... Cats? What in StarClan? Finchstar had one pinned to the cave wall, furiously swiping at it's fur. The other... Was it creeping up on Finchstar? The little time she had offered no answers, but her decision was made clear as she let out a heart-stopping screech. For Finchstar to fight these cats, in the cavern of their ancestors no less, they were enemies. Of that she was sure.

Taking a flying leap, she landed on the unsuspecting cat's shoulders. Claws latching into fur, she held tightly as she started to shred the back of the pelt under her. For Puddlepaw, life taken far too soon. For Crowpaw, and Spotpaw, innocence shattered before they had experienced it fully. For Grousefrost, her mate, who was probably buried. No matter who these cats were, they were enemies, so long as Finchstar fought them. And since she couldn't take out her frustration and aggression on the predators responsible, she would focus it on them. As she poised, she lifted a mud covered muzzle to stare intently at Finchstar's back. "Alright you rabbit-brained, fox-hearted fool, don't you dare let yourself fall. Brookclover would never let you hear the end of it. And neither will I."

Goldengale used Leap-and-Hold, dealing 11 damage and costing 10 SP. Theron is stunned for one (1) turn.

Goldengale:
55/60 HP (-5 from cave-in wounds)
190/200 SP (-10)

Theron: Stunned (x1)
64/75 HP (-11)
200/200 SP

The member 'Mosspelt' has done the following action : Dices roll

---

'Effect Dice' : 3

Theron stumbled to a stop at the sight before her as the trio stepped into the opening of the cavern. She was...Surprised at the grand rock that glimmered before them, peering up to see that moonlight was filtering in to cause the rock to glow. Hm...So this was why the tom seemed to believe in the 'ones above.' It was truly...Something. Her ears perked as the tom spoke up, a simple explanation to put their nose against the rock. That...That was it? That was all it took to gain immortality? There was a doubt in her but as Pakhet trudged forward and the tom did the same...She hesitated. Pakhet had motioned for her to do the same but she didn't trust this flee-bitten tom.

And so she stayed back, carefully watching as both cats fell into a slumber. It was hard to tell how much time passed before a soft rumbling caught her ear. Her eyes flickered upwards, seeing Pakhet start to rise with a growl. Blah, so it was a lie. She pushed herself to her paws, just in time for Finchstar to suddenly whirl and leap at her leader. Lies! Traitor, they should have known better...She growled, bearing her teeth as she started to stalk forward...Only for claws in her back to cause her to halt. Another cat?!? How? She violent shook herself in an effort to free herself, eyes glinting as she spared a glance at Pakhet - hoping her leader would have an idea of what they were to do. But for now...She would fight and make these moor cats pay.

Theron is stunned.

Theron:
64/75 HP
200/200 SP

Goldengale:
55/60 HP
190/200 SP

Such bold words from a brash fool. Pakhet rose to here paws with a barrage of snarls tearing from her throat. Even if his words had been a blatant lie, that did not mean their struggle was over. She had slain cats thrice his size without the assistance of many lives. And now, she would strip each one from his ragged, mange-ridden pelt. Before she was to her paws, he had risen first and lashed out. In just a moment's time, she had been slammed into the stone of the wall. As she glanced behind her opponent, it was obvious the reason Theron hadn't prevented the attack: she was engaged in her own battle. Scenting the air, over the stale taste of many forest cats, she was able to deduct there were only two. Whether this was a planned attack or a mere happening of them meeting, there were no more than the pair of Windclan cats. This would be an easy victory. Once Theron disposed of the warrior, they could hold down Finchstar and rip away life after life until his body finally ceased to move.

Rage for this tom boiled in her veins. As they rolled across the stone it had only worsened. If she spared a moment more, it would become unbearable. She quickly picked her way backwards up the rocky wall, next to the glowing light of the moonstone, and let out guttural snarls, "I'll kill you, Finchstar. I'll take every last life from you, and then the lives of every cat from your beloved clan." Right before she countered with an attack of her own, a yowl rose for the other Nightstriker to hear, "Kill her! Then we kill him! Tonight every kit of Windclan will be slain at our paws!" Pakhet howled before launching herself at the tom, her claws cut through him, bringing some satisfaction to her seething state. Thankfully, she had not chosen to go without a pelt. While for beginners it posed a challenge, the experienced Asylum cat found solace in its placement.

Pakhet used front paw strike, dealing 11 damage and using 10 stamina.

Finchstar
HP: 89/120 (-11)
SP: 280/300

Pakhet
HP: 59/75
SP: 190/200

Finchstar hissed wildly as his claws dug into the horrifying duel-pelted creature. His cause was noble, a bold thrashing against death itself. The darkness could not shadow their war, and the light of the moon sent casts of light over their frames, projecting large shadows onto the cavern wall. They were bigger than Finchstar, than Pakhet. The leader yowled and knew that life itself was larger than anything he could possibly imagine, the shadows were metaphorical of that. He fought now for WindClan, for Brookclover, for all the lives yet to come.

The tom braced himself for the impact of Theron, coming to save his companion. But another yowl split the cave, one familiar, welcome. "Goldengale!" Finchstar gasped, turning away from his attacker to stare in awe at the golden she-cat who came to his aid. How had she possibly found him? Where was the rest of WindClan? She spat a muse-filled battle cry to him, demanding he never let himself die. Filled with optimism, Finchstar nodded with a smile, bloody face a sharp contrast to his hopeful features. But in his distracted state, Pakhet lashed out with a quick paw, claws cutting through his pelt as Finchstar yowled.

They inched further up the cave wall, slowly finding their way onto the unstable ledges, moonlit outcroppings in the large rocky clearing. Claws flashed in the light, and Goldengale fought below, as brave as a lion. They ascended higher, shale dropping from the side of the cave with every hiss and snap of teeth. The ledge narrowed, and revealed a harrowing drop onto the moonstone below. Not far, but perilous as the sharp stones of quartz rose up to meet them. Deathly for any cat. Finchstar eyed the drop warily, gaze shifting between Pakhet and Goldengale. His frame grew weaker with ever second, scabs from his previous neck wound reopened, and shedding blood down onto the cavern below. The leader's legs shook, his lungs gasped for air, and his frame crumpled beneath him. "Kill me then." Finchstar responded, grasping Pakhet with his forepaws and rolling off of the shale-ledge. The fall was short, but death rose to meet the two as the sharp stones of StarClan's sacred rock penetrated their frames. Finchstar's shoulder took the brunt of the fall, and he hissed in pain as blood dripped down the moonlit stone. Forgive me Goldengale... The leader whispered to himself, knowing he had rid his body of his fourth life, directly disobeying his clanmates orders. However Finchstar had always been a stubborn cat, his body would now comply. Falling into the darkness, the leader let himself drift into sleep, praying his freefall had killed his attacker.

Finchstar fell from the cavern with Pakhet! Dealing full damage.

Finchstar
HP: 0/120 (-89)
SP: 280/300

Pakhet
HP: 0/75 (-59)
SP: 190/200

Fighting in the cavern that housed the Moonstone was a feat she had never imagined possible. Never in her wildest dreams or nightmares had the possibility surfaced to thought, but now she was sure that her dreams would carry the memory along. Finchstar fought a cat nearby, as she faced off against the one she had managed to catch off-guard. The yowls from her leader seemed to grow farther away, and a quick glance to the side revealed their slow ascent up in the cavern. Her paw flashed out to one shoulder with the speed that WindClan was known for, and in the blink of an eye she slid under the open belly of the other cat. The threats of the cat Finchstar was fighting rang out, and she forced her claws further. No. They would never win, never lay another claw on her family. She would be sure to take them with her this time. The sound of the other fight grew in intensity, but then there was the clattering of rocks, a dull, heart-wrenching thud, and as Goldengale turned in horror, already anticipating the sight that would meet her wide-eyes, she yowled. "Finchstar!! No!!" Her legs crumpled under her once more as her panic rose. No no no. Not now. Finchstar's limp body slumped to the floor of the cavern, and she blinked as she turned to her own opponent. This cat was stronger, healed. And here she couldn't even find her paws. How many lives had Finchstar lost? Two? Three? This must be his third. He would be getting up soon. That was how that worked, right? He would gasp his next breath, forced back to walk among the living, and fight at her side. Please, StarClan, don't take long.

Goldengale used Swift Strike, followed by Half-Turn Belly Rake, dealing 18 damage total (13+5) and costing 30 SP.

Goldengale:
55/60 HP
160/200 SP (-30)

Theron:
46/75 HP (-18)
200/200 SP

Theron stumbled backwards with a snarl as the she-cat battered her, striking where her extra pelt offered no protection. Idiots...Fools! She would take pleasure in slaughtering every single one of them in vengeance of this attack, this betrayal...Well, to be honest, she had been hoping to do so anyways but this was going to make everything much more pleasurable. But then there was a screech, a heavy thud with a sicking noise. The golden she-at noticed something behind her, screeching the name of her leader in despair. A grin flared across Theron's face at the sweet, sweet noise as she spared a glance over her shoulder to see how Pahket had so quickly ended the leader's life...Only to freeze at the sight.

Somehow, the two leaders had apparently managed to get above the glowing stone - her eyes tracing a small path that perhaps had led them there. They had fallen, striking against the rock. Finchstar, the cowardly moor-cat leader...He laid at the base, body torn from where the rocks had sliced him. But Pakhet... "N-No.." she murmured, eyes widening at the twisted, sickening sight of her leader impaled, eyes lifeless. Slain. "PAKHET!" She screeched, spinning as she threw herself at the golden she-cat with a howl. "You will all die for this! You do not know what you have brought upon you. You...You dirty moor cats! We will slaughter each and every one of you - your immortality will not save you when you are pelts for us to wear!"

Theron used Jumping Strike on Goldengale, costing 20 stamina and dealing 14 damage.

Theron:
46/75 HP
180/200 SP (-20)

Goldengale:
41/60 HP (-14)
160/200 SP

While scaling the sides of a cavern had never been her expertise, Pakhet hardly spared a thought to the challenge of their fighting at the moonstone. This scared place had hardly seen such bloodshed before. But to here, it was merely another battleground. Their match continued, ascending higher and higher. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Theron's ferocious lunges, which fueled her own desire for blood. This was more than a pleasure kill or than something just for business that her position commanded, no, this was a personal endeavor, set to make right the foolishness that had occurred on this night. Another scattering of stone and yet she did not yield in her pursuit of tearing into that soft orange and white-pelted coat. Soon enough he would lay dead in this so-called holy place. Before she could land another solid blow, he challenged her.

Kill me then.

Oh she would, she most certainly would. A vicious howl tore from her throat as she prepared to attack. Instead, he had darted forward onto the narrow place she perched, grasping her frame between his forepaws. And the firm stone that had once been underneath her pads ceased to exist. Shock crossed Pakhet's face. Her enraged yowl did not cease until she was impacted against the sharp stone. All of the breath was knocked from her lungs and claws fiercer than any stone pierced her pelt. Her eyes had never left Finchstar's and as she watched the light die from his eyes once again, the Nightstriker found a final moment of satisfaction, "I... I... told... you... Windclan... will never.... rest... in peace... again." There wasn't much to ponder over, no sentiment in those final moments as she bled out at highstones. It was the most fitting end for the feral she-cat. Pakhet had always deserved to die in the heat of battle. There were not regrets other than the fact that she had not been able to witness herself the fall of their newfound forest enemies.

But that would come soon enough.

He searched in the darkness for some scent of Brookclover. It was only seconds since her voice had echoed through his head, calling for war against the nightstrikers. But now as Finchstar floated through nothingness, it felt moons away. He had fought for a cause, throwing Pakhet to her doom against StarClan's rocks. He had obeyed Brookclover's calling, but now as Finchstar lay cold on the cavern floor, he wanted nothing but her presence. The soft voice in his ear, the smell of heather and the russet fur that had laid close to him on those dreamy Greenleaf nights. Finchstar prayed for peace, he had fought with all his power to bring it crashing down upon those he loved. But each trial they faced seemed to tear away at his resolve, convincing the tom further that such a thing wasn't possible.

A gasp inflated his lungs as the leader awoke, hissing violently to the searing pain in his shoulder. The light of the moonstone had dulled, and they were bathed in darkness once more. A pelt lay next to his, but it was not Brookclover's. Crimson dripped down the stone as the gloomy frame of Pakhet rested on top, her horrifying figure impaled on the jagged rocks above. StarClan's holy grounds, now a resting place for beasts. Poetic in a cynical way. The raccoon pelt the she-monster wore had slid off her body, now cradling Finchstar as he lay still, fighting the pain of the hole now gouged in his shoulder.

The leader wished to lay back for a moment, letting the trials of his life comfort him. If they couldn't take shelter in the peaceful days, then they'd rejoice in their bloody victories. Crimson now stained the leader's patched pelt, he stood shakily, staring down Theron as she tore at Goldengale. Finchstar wiped his bleeding nose with his good paw, spitting out the red now pooling in his mouth. This was a different kind of peace, a hard, metallic one in the shape of claws and teeth. He did not desire it, nor did he deserve it, but perhaps it was the fate WindClan needed. They were warriors, after all. They had fought dogs, Sharptooths, and everything in between the lines. Their peace was sacred, fragile and beautiful, but they would defend it as the mortal, battle-hardened beasts they were. Finchstar grabbed Pakhet's raccoon pelt in his jaws and paw, tearing it down the middle, yowling with pain as a jolt rocketed through his shoulder. "Drop. Your. Claws."

Finchstar used Resurrection, gaining 60 health and costing 30 stamina.

Finchstar
HP: 60/120 (+60)
SP: 250/300 (-30)