Night of Stars

Night of Stars

Prologue

I stifled a purr of laughter as I watched the apprentices tumble through the entrance to the den. I was glad storytelling was a job solely belonging to the elders; young cats were so full of energy that it made me feel invigorated just seeing their romping.

“It’s your turn to fetch moss, Weedpaw!” complained Squirrelpaw, her dark red fur rumpled as she glared at the young orange tom.

“I was made an apprentice yesterday, how can it be my turn?” he snarled back.

“Because I did it two sunrises ago, and Redpaw still isn’t healed yet,” retorted Squirrelpaw, her worry barely masked by anger as she mentioned her brother.

“It’s not my fault he slipped off that boulder!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is t-“

“Quiet!” I commanded. Maybe I wasn’t so glad after all.

“The point is Shadefoot had to do it, so now you’re both in trouble. If you are here to treat my ticks, at least be quiet. It’s time I told you of the cats before the clans. Weedpaw looked up.

“Who was here before us?” he asked, startled. “Thunderclan has been here forever!”

“Ah, you forget. Lionclan came here countless moons before, true, but they did not originally roam this land. Though few stories still tell of them, the Noctis Proeliator, or Night Warriors in our tongue, had been hunting this forest even before that.” Weedpaw looked confused at my speech. “Really? But who were they? Where did they come from? Where are they now?” he asked excitedly, talking so quickly he stumbled over the words like hidden branches. In my mind, I purred. I loved Weedpaw’s questions; he got right to the point.

“I will start with the first question: who they were. They were one of the most ancient races, larger than us, and skilled warriors who lived by night, as their name suggests. They knew the forest better than us, too. They knew that the forest was their provider, and they respected it and gave thanks for the life it provided.”

I finished, twitching my tail in a self-satisfied way. Starclan had granted me a most unusual gift, the ability to dream other’s lives. The triumphs and defeats, the actions and emotions of certain cats were mine to tell. I was a Teller. It was my duty to pass on the old stories. I knew I had to tell this story now to the young. They are the future, and must pass down the stories until Starclan sent another Teller. I took a deep breath and continued.

“To tell the whole story would take moons, so I will tell the story of one cat, one who changed the old forest forever.” But I cannot start at the beginning, I thought, they won’t understand. They must understand who she was before they know the roots. Before they know what she did that cold, clear night long ago. I did not know exactly how I knew this, but I knew I must follow it. The Teller part of me was aching to be free, and I let it, giving myself to the story.

“She was the carrier of the burden, the messenger between old and new, dark and light, known and unknown. She was the Link.”