Take a Stand/Catastrophe

 It's a new world, it's a new start, it's alive with the beating of a young heart It's a new day in a new land and it's waiting for me...here I am. --- Most stories begin with a birth or a death. The birth of a hero, or the birth of a villain. The death of a character who has some significance later in the story. And the end of most stories has either a death or a birth.

Stories in general revolve around birth and death. Joy and grief. Passing and renewal. It's what life is. A constant cycle. Everything that is born dies. Their story ends. Or someone else's begins.

It's all a part of life.

My story, however, begins with both life and death. I was born the night that FrostClan's leader killed DustClan's during a Gathering. Unprovoked. One moment, Gorsestar was speaking, reporting that a queen had been in labor when they left and a new litter of kits would be expected when they returned. The next moment, Sagestar pounced, and Gorsestar was dead.

I wasn't even born yet when it happened, but I know that the moment Gorsestar's body hit the ground was the marking of the end of the Clans. That was the moment they turned into armies. Sure, the four Clans still bore their names - FrostClan, DustClan, MistClan, and RainClan - but the warrior code was lost. I was never raised with it.

Before the fateful night of my birth, warriors were raised in honor. To defend and protect their Clan with dignity, guard their borders fairly, always look to their ancestors in times of need. A way of life. The warrior code to guide their paws in the right direction.

Now, in my generation, warriors are soldiers. Nothing more. Cats that are trained to kill and destroy. Once they've been taught all they can be taught, they are sent to the war zones - what used to be borders. Now just places between territories where cats kill each other to prove a point.

It's been four years since I was born. Four years since this crime called war began. Do I think there will ever be a time that the war ends? I don't know. I don't think the Clans are fighting to win anymore. I think they're just fighting to kill.

Each Clan has receded farther into their territory. There are no distinct borders anymore, just the war zones that are so wide you can't accidentally cross over one into the other Clan's territory. Most cats avoid the war zones if they haven't been drafted to fight. Sometimes a group of soldiers will invade another Clan's territory for a surprise attack on the camp, killing future soldiers and innocents, but other than that we mostly stay clear of other territories.

I'm not saying I refuse to fight. I don't believe in the war, but I'll do what it takes to protect my Clan. I've killed other soldiers before. I've sustained my share of battle wounds.

But it's disastrous. The amount of lives lost for no purpose. It's a noble death, defending your Clanmates - but what's the point when there's no reason they should need defending?

Clan populations have grown larger since the Declaration night, as it's called now. The night war was declared. The night I was born. She-cats aren't forced to birth multiple litters of kits, but they do anyway, playing their part to keep the Clan in constant population of future soldiers.

There are about thirty soldiers - warriors - at any given time in a Clan. Not including she-cats who have taken a leave of absence to bear kits. Not counting the dozen or so young cats being trained to kill, and will become soldiers one day. Not counting those who are too injured to fight and will be put on bedrest in the medicine den until they are healed enough to fight. Not counting the ten or so mentors who will fight if numbers get too low but have a main duty in training apprentices.

We lose cats at a steady pace. If one dies, a few days later an apprentice is ready to receive their soldier name and become a potential troop. It all works out. Sometimes we'll be hit with a wave of enemy soldiers, and we'll lose too many cats at a time, so our numbers will be low. In that the apprentices are trained harder and faster so they can receive their names sooner and be sent out to the war zones faster.

Everycat has lost someone important to them at some point. I've lost ones that I loved. My mother died before I became a soldier. Her neck was broken. I lost my twin sister a few moons ago. Her belly was torn open and she died fighting. My best friend Fernflower was killed when we'd been soldiers for a few moons. One moment she was fighting beside me on our first draft, the next her body was falling onto me. I thought she'd just lost her balance. But her throat was ripped apart and her eyes were clouded over.

Death is a constant companion. You treat every goodbye to someone you love like it's the last moment you'll ever see them - because it just might be. I've seen many cats get into a fight, the other going off to their draft in a huff, and they only return to the Clan by other cats carrying in the dead body. It's a sad sight, to see the other cat staring numb at their friend's body, wishing they could take back every word they said.

But you can't. You never can. I let my sister Eveningflower leave for draft one day, and she knew I was irritated at her, because we were hunting earlier in the day and she was being noisy, scaring all the prey away. I let her leave with her knowing I was angry with her. And that was the day her body was the one dragged back to camp.

It is my biggest regret in life. But you have to move on from it eventually. There's no room for grief in the life of a soldier. You move on, you control your feelings. Because there's nothing else you can do. Nothing but survive.

My name is Coldfrost. This is my story. A story that began with life and death. A story that ends with...well, you'll just have to see how it ends.