A Sun So Bright [C]

Whisperpaw was not the only cat enjoying the unusual warmth.

Lionfur closed his eyes, sitting outside of the den where he had slept the night, basking in the long-missed sunbeams. The Place of No Stars had been constantly dark; dingy, musty, without a single ray of light to brighten the place. The lack of warmth led mold and fungus to grow everywhere, and even though he was no longer there, the scent of decay lingered on the dead tom's pelt. But now, after so long-- he was back. He sat in WindClan camp, his home, and the bright, comforting sunlight rested on his pelt. Finally, he had conquered his betrayers. He was safe at home once more. Still, even with the joy came a bittersweet aftertaste. His beautiful mate, Nightheart, and his lovely kits were all since passed. They had died long ago, after being lied to. After that awful Ashstar and Smokepelt pretended that he had been the traitor, said that he had been the villain all along. Well... now who's laughing? Still. He missed them. Life wasn't the same, even though the forest had remained. His family was gone.

Yet, that was no reason to not enjoy the second lease on existence he had been given. No: Lionfur intended to enjoy every second he had. He would appreciate things he had never properly appreciated before. He would relish every bite of prey, every ray of sun, and every cat in WindClan... the ones that would accept him, that was. There were already a few that he knew could not be converted. The disgust and anger in their eyes when they looked at him... no, the lies of StarClan had sunken too deeply into their flesh. One of these days he would carve it out. But not today. No, today was too beautiful to be sullied by spilling such impure blood. Today, he would focus on those he could save, those he could convince of StarClan's lies.

As the tom sat, his golden fur soaking up every inch of sunlight, his eyes roamed the camp before him. Most cats were busy out on patrols; they seemed to find more excuses to be out and about. Hopefully, their fear of him would dissolve soon enough. Once they knew he wasn't a threat to any reasonable cats. While he searched, one cat caught his eye-- a young apprentice with somewhat large ears, relaxing in camp, seeming to have the same idea he did: that sun was not to be wasted. A light smile touched Lionfur's face. An apprentice was the perfect place to start. Just like how he had convinced Sunpaw back in the Dark Forest, that horrible place.... Where was Sunpaw, anyway? Had she faded and become one of those Awakened shadows? He shuddered at the thought. This was no time for such dark ideas.

Instead, Lionfur calmly approached the young apprentice, letting his face morph into a kind and welcoming expression. Though his eyes still seemed to be stuck in their permanent, unsettling state-- gold that gleamed crimson-red anytime the light touched it-- they were soft, crinkled in a genuinely friendly smile he hadn't worn for some time. "Good idea-- better soak up all the sun before it gets cold again," he purred, tone warmly jovial. "My name is Lionfur. I don't recall meeting you before. What's your name, apprentice?"

Lionfur should have expected the instinctual flinch back from his presence, but as it was, he was startled for a moment. The apprentice's hackles rose, but not in a hostile way. They just seemed... unhappy. Startled. Disgusted. I guess I really do look that intimidating, huh? I'm not "just Lionfur" anymore. He let out a rueful chuckle. "Sorry," he apologized, still keeping his tone light. "I should've expected to startle you. Being trapped in a dark, dingy forest for years will make you smell pretty bad. Even rolling in the mud hasn't washed it off of me... I expect it will be fixed with time."

Whisperpaw, huh? An obviously fitting name, given the young cat's quiet nature. He sat down, not extremely close, but close enough for conversation. "No need to get up. I didn't mean to interrupt you. I simply wanted some company." Lionfur's head tilted slightly. He understood the desire for relaxation; receiving a day off as an apprentice would have made him feel lazy as well. "No one seems to want to patrol with me," he joked, shrugging his shoulders. "I figured I should make a day of it and enjoy the sun." And the sun certainly was nice-- the warmth that began to seep into his pelt made his muscles loosen up. "I know I look kind of scary. I apologize; I simply haven't been alive for quite some time. But now, forgotten spirits like me can have a chance to enjoy life again. Forgive me for startling you. I simply want to have a nice conversation with some cat, and soak up this leaf-bare sunlight. It reminds me of the greenleaf days I used to enjoy here."

Lionfur let himself relax in the sun, still about a fox-length away from the apprentice. His friendly approach seemed to be gradually working; Whisperpaw was less startled, and probably beginning to accept his presence. That was good. Not only because it was relieving to just have a conversation with another cat, but because he was that much closer to helping this apprentice understand the truth. And now, Whisperpaw was the one asking the questions.

"It's hard to measure time," the warrior admitted, stretching out to lay on his stomach on the sun-warmed ground. "I was alive during the time of Ashstar. So... that was a while ago. Unlike in StarClan, we cats who are forced into the Place of No Stars don't get to look down upon the living. I don't even know how long ago my mate and kits passed away." That thought got to him a little more than he would have liked. Though he had originally thought of Nightheart as a means to an end... he had loved the she-cat. She had loved him. And then they were torn apart by the betrayal of the stars.

"But today is far too nice a day to talk about such depressing things." He shook his head, glancing towards the apprentice with his strange eyes. "If you've listened to the elders' tales, then I'm sure you know Ashstar ascended into the stars quite some time ago. I'm not even sure exactly how many leaders have followed from her until Goldenstar now.... Probably long enough that no one has heard of me anymore. A few cats in this Clan share my blood, but not many. None that would know me." As friendly as his tone seemed, there was an obvious underlying loneliness that a cat would have to be obtuse not to notice. It was a real emotion, but he let it seep through his voice on purpose. Maybe Whisperpaw would be sympathetic.

There was the question. The one that hovered around every cat's lips, in the corners of their eyes, when they glanced sidelong at him. The ever-present haze that haloed his head. And, exactly what he had wanted to be asked. Lionfur blinked slowly and turned to face Whisperpaw, voice thoughtful as if he had not considered his answer to that exact question. "Well... I suppose you would want to know that. I am not afraid to tell you. Kits are always taught that the Dark Forest is full of reprehensible murderers, traitors, and morally bankrupt rogues. However, the truth is that many of us were simply tricked."

Behind him, the tip of his golden tail flicked slightly. "Don't worry-- I'll explain. You see, I was very similar to you once. I was just Lionpaw, a regular apprentice, wanting to do my best to keep WindClan safe. At the time, our tensions with RiverClan were very high. So I, and my fellow apprentices and warriors, were very worried." As he reminisced, his eyes gained a somewhat faraway look. Having only his memories of the living to sustain him while he wandered alone, he recalled them perfectly... and he had often told this very same story to himself. "One night, as I slept in the apprentices' den, StarClan sent me a dream. I sat next to a river, and the wind blew through my fur. A voice whispered, 'Danger is near... beware. A new era approaches.' Then the river in front of me turned into blood... When I awoke, and told the deputy, he did not believe me."

The tale was easy to tell, with only a few slight embellishments needed to enhance the truth. He had told it so many times now, that he fully believed he had, in fact, had such a dream. Lionfur continued on, glancing occasionally at the apprentice to see whether he was taking it in. "Though others did not believe me, and soon forgot-- believing it to just be a nightmare-- I took it to heart. Even after receiving my warrior name, I was always cautious when patrolling the RiverClan border. Once, I got into an altercation with a RiverClan she-cat, who unfortunately was injured in the skirmish. The WindClan deputy similarly got into a fight a few days later; he broke an apprentice's jaw. That apprentice was the son of RiverClan's leader, Fishstar. A few days later, RiverClan stormed into camp and attacked." Remembering the unjust fight, he bared his fangs for a moment. "The battle was bloody and unnecessary. Eventually victorious due to their dishonorable tactics, RiverClan insisted that the deputy be demoted, and I be exiled. Otherwise, they would attack again, and steal all of our territory."

Calming himself down visibly, Lionfur took a slow breath. "By that time, I had a mate and kits. I had a family and a life. I had repented of my accidental injuring of the RiverClan she-cat, and she had already fully recovered on the other side of the border. A few days post-battle passed without incident. We cleaned up the camp, healed wounds, and began to move on. I hoped that Ashstar would not cave into RiverClan's outrageous demands. But one day... she called me into her den." His tail swept slowly across his paws. Hopefully, he was not talking too much. This part would have to be gone over with the greatest delicacy. One more half-truth he had convinced himself of.... "The night before, I received a dream. StarClan spoke to me once more. They told me that WindClan was going down a dangerous path; I would need to lead them to safety. I wasn't sure what that meant. I was scared. I didn't want any harm to come to my Clan. I wanted Nightheart and my kits to be safe. So, feeling worried, I went in to see Ashstar." He didn't want to talk for too long. He didn't want to scare Whisperpaw away. His eyes slid towards the apprentice. "What do you think happened?"

Despite Lionfur's attempts to soften the story, it still seemed to be a little bit scary for the young apprentice. He noticed Whisperpaw's fur begin standing on end, and saw the instinctual response of his ears beginning to pin back. But they had asked. And besides, how different was this from an elder telling kits a cautionary, scary tale? No different. He averted his eyes from the white-furred apprentice again. "I see in your eyes that you can guess. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for, Whisperpaw. But yes... let me explain myself. I did not wish for this outcome any more than you did." His head lowered to his paws for a moment, but then he raised it again. Still gleaming blood-red in the bright sun, his eyes did not look directly into Whisperpaw's-- he saw that the cat was frightened-- but at some fixed point just behind him, haunted, into the distance.

"Yes, Ashstar had called me in to give me the news. I was to be exiled. Exiled from my Clan, my home, my mate and kits. All for an accidental injury that had long since been healed. Still reeling from shock, I could not believe it. What was to happen to Smokepelt, I asked? Nothing. The deputy would not even be demoted from his position. He would be given a few superficial punishments, some moons with extra duties to the elders. Of course, the leader's special son would have no such life-changing retribution. And yet I, just as loyal a warrior if not more-- I was to be exiled." The injustice of it all still brought an involuntary anger.

Lionfur's shoulders tightened up, but he kept his fury in check. Instead, he stayed perfectly still, letting his emotions ride the natural, controlled wave of his voice. It did not come out as white-hot rage, but as the agony of pain he had felt in that moment. "In that moment, I felt lost. Abandoned. StarClan had warned me of the corruption within my own Clan... and for what? What was I meant to do? There was no peaceful path. There was nothing for me to do. Either I accept my undue punishment, abandon my mate and kits to likely awful treatment in the paws of cats who disdained me for an action that the deputy was lauded for... or... yes. I admit it. I did not want to do it. Even as my claws unsheathed, I cried out against the action. But StarClan had warned me what would happen if I did not take action. Safety could only be accomplished without Ashstar. So..." His eyes met Whisperpaw's, and for one startling second, they went from the strange bicolored gleam to a solid, dark red. "I killed Ashstar."

After the one, terrifying moment, the tom's eyes reverted back to their normal gold. His tightened shoulders slumped. He glanced to the side, as if ashamed, as if feeling the weight of what had been done. "I promise you, I would not have done it if there had been any other way. All I wanted was to follow StarClan's words, and to save my Clan, my family, my kits from a life of danger. And yet, even as I tore the first life from her unworthy frame, it seemed that all I had put my trust in had betrayed me." His tail lashed behind him once. "Smokepelt, Ashstar's son, the deputy who received no punishment for committing a worse act than I, ran into the den. He had hated me since the start. I was given no mercy, nor any chance to explain-- in a few moments, he bit my throat, and I was murdered." As if responding to the story, the puncture wounds in Lionfur's throat-- small, previously hidden behind his thick fur-- began to trickle blood once more. "I was devastated. My life, my mate, my kits, torn away just like that. And WindClan resigned to Ashstar's reign. However, I thought... with my one last glimmer of hope... that StarClan would rescue me, would let me back into the warmth of the sky while I awaited the company of my family."

A small, bitter chuckle accompanied his words. "Not so. You see, the worst betrayal was yet to come. When my spirit fled my dying body, I cried out my last prayer to StarClan, begging them to let me in, the loyal warrior who had attempted to fulfill their prophecy. I had given my all for them, I had sacrificed my life for them. But I did not awake to any heavenly glory, any starry skies. No welcome awaited me. Instead, I was alone in a pitch-black forest. There were no stars, no moon-- no light at all. Not even any grass could grow in the muddy sludge beneath my paws. I was doomed to an eternity of wandering alone, crying out for the light, separated from my loved ones. Just because I had followed StarClan. Only because I had tried to save my Clan." Lionfur sought the apprentice's eyes again. There was a lonely desperation in his voice. "You understand, don't you? I didn't want to do it. They could have stopped me at any moment. StarClan, those fox-hearts-- they set me up to fail, and let me take the fall. Smokepelt lived a long happy life and died a respected elder. Ashstar lived the rest of her lives and died of old age, as well. They both celebrate in StarClan. But oh, my mate, my kits, they lived the rest of their lives being fed lies about me. What should I know but whether they hated me too, in the end? I will never see them again." Many things about his story had been slightly embellished, many emotions enhanced-- but this one, this one was real. The regret at losing Nightheart, Squirrelfoot, the rest of his family. "What could I have done? If I ignored StarClan and got exiled for my pains, I would be doomed either way. Don't you see, Whisperpaw? This is the problem. The Clans are full of wonderful cats who are misguided. They are betrayed at one crucial point in their lives, and then villainized for eternity, dropped into a miserable slimy pit, doomed to wander alone forever. Tell me, who deserves that fate?"