The Last Warrior

''This is the first episode of Vale, season 5. Written by Rainy. Read, enjoy, & comment!''



The Last Warrior
Morning took forever to come around after the camp fire.

When the sun finally peeked over the horizon, it seemed to dislike what it saw so much that it immediately wrapped itself in a veil of clouds and sulked behind them for the rest of the day.

Misery hung thick in the air, which stank of burned fur and wet fur; the latter was caused by the thunderstorm that had occurred about three hours before dawn, which had been what had put the last of the fire out.

Not that anyone was grateful. Every cat had been thoroughly drenched, and tempers were running high.

There had been only one real death: Duckpaw, the GreenClan apprentice. Brightpaw had been the one to drag his burned body out, and she had been crying so hard she couldn't even see. All animosity between GreenClan and SpringClan apprentices had been forgotten as the young 'paws came racing to comfort Brightpaw and mourn Duckpaw.

However, there was more damage done--besides the absolute wreck the camp was in.

Quailstar had lost four lives.

Dewfrost, who had been the one to finally rescue her from the leader's den, which had been the focal point of the fire, was beyond distraught. "She kept waking up, burning, and dying, over and over again!" he'd screamed at a horrified Lionpatch. "How can any medicine cat fix that?"

I should be able to say a lot more about that day, but I can't.

All I can say is that I spent most of it lying in the medicine cat's den, drifting in and out of consciousness. Blossomleaf was furious with me. Whenever she passed me, I could hear her muttering to herself. "Smoke inhalation, could've died, risked her life for that horrid GreenClan tom... what was she thinking... don't have enough herbs for this..."

For a few hours, I didn't even know what was going on. The entire night was just a vague smudge of orange and black in my brain.

Slowly, my memories began returning--against my will, I might add. I remembered the horrible stench of smoke, crawling on my belly underneath the roar of the flames, the way I kept wishing that I was dead, anything to end the pain in my lungs and my head, the horrible scratch of ashy boughs as they clung to my fur. I'd gone back to the camp countless times, dragging unconscious cats out, working alongside my Clanmates till I passed out myself.

Outside my little bubble of half-alertness, back in the camp, no one really knew what to do. Viperstar and Dewfrost were trying to restore order to the Order (ha) but it wasn't really working. Duckpaw's vigil was held during the day, since it was so gloomy that it might as well have been night. A few cats got to work sweeping debri and ash out of the dens, but they quickly gave up, as the mud from the thunderstorm made it a futile task.

Never in my life had I seen SpringClan so utterly beaten, not even when we'd been driven from our camp by the League.

By the time I'd finally emerged from the medicine cat's den--against Blossomleaf's orders, but she and Lionpatch were out tending to others and I hoped they wouldn't notice me slink out--in the eveningtime, it had been concluded that the fire was a work of arson.

And cats were ballistic.

Accusations flew thick through the air. Oddly enough, it wasn't just GreenClan versus Springclan accusations--though there were plenty of those. Clanmates were turning on each other. I saw a pair of GreenClan cats screaming at each other, and then I even saw Redbelly suspiciously questioning Nighthawk as to his whereabouts last night.

Meanwhile, Cammy sat alone in a corner of the camp, looking sick to her stomach.

I made a beeline for her. Relief flooded her expression. "You're all right! Oh, I was so worried!"

Grimly, I said, "I still feel like anyone could knock me down with a feather. But yes, I'm alive."

She shut her eyes. "This is all my fault."

"No it isn't. It's the fault of the cat who set this fire. Where is Hawkeye?"

"I haven't seen him all day."

"What?" I roared. "And you haven't told Dewfrost the truth? Cammy, you should've told him so that he could organize a search party! Hawkeye's probably miles away by now, and he's gotten away with this."

"Why would he leave, though?" challenged Cammy. "I mean, that defeats the point of attempting to kill Viperstar. If he just wanted to leave his home, he didn't have to set a fire to do so. I'm sure he's still lurking around-"

"What about the GreenClan cat? You said a GreenClan cat took the embers from Hawkeye and set them on Quailstar."

"Thornfeather. She's gone too." Cammy looked like she wanted to set embers on herself.

"Cammy, I cannot believe you haven't said a word about this to anyone."

I turned and began stalking away. I heard her cry out behind me, "You don't understand, I can't! Wait, let me explain! Breezeflight, where are you going?"

I ignored her, continuing walking, right out of the camp.

Dark had fallen by the time I reached my destination, which was perfect. What better time to enter the Dark City than at night?

Once inside, it was surprisingly easy to navigate. You don't forget one of the last adventures you ever had with your best friend easily, which I supposed was why.

Within a few minutes, I was standing outside the entrance to the Red Arena.

Two guards leered out at me. "And what's a pretty thing like yourself doing here? You know the fights get a lot more vicious at night, don't you?" asked one of them. He was missing several of his teeth, and had a bald spot near his left ear.

"Do they? That's perfect, then. Is decapitation allowed?"

Baldy blinked, affronted. "Listen, miss, the Red Arena isn't a place for jokesters-"

"Oh, is that what you think? That I'm joking?" I pressed my claws to his throat.

He swallowed with effort. "Get in," he said roughly.

I pushed my way past him, into the shadowy battleground beyond.

As my eyes drifted over the crowd, searching for someone I could pick a fight with, I saw, to my utter shock and disbelief, a dark gray pelt belonging to a certain familiar tom. I strode through the crowd and whacked his shoulder with my tail. "Ren."

He turned around slowly.

He looked worse off than he had when I first met him. His forelegs were crisscrossed with scars, and I suspected he'd been coming here to fight nearly every night. "Breezeflight," he said hoarsely, the vacant expression in his eyes replaced with a look of intense pain, which he quickly fought to suppress. I imagined that to him, I was a stark reminder of Daisyheart, one he hadn't been prepared for.

"You shouldn't be here-" he began, but I interrupted him.

"Let's fight. You and me. Now."

"What?" he stammered.

"You gave the embers to Hawkeye. Do you know what happened, Ren? The attempt on Viperstar's life failed. The camp caught on fire. An apprentice died, and Quailstar lost four lives. I nearly died, and so did many others. You could've wiped out two Clans. Someone needs to pay for it. Hawkeye's gone, and so is Thornfeather."

Before Ren could react to any of this, I was dragging him out to the middle of the arena. The other cats, sensing a brawl about to begin, began yelling, "Fight, fight, fight!"

"I can't hurt you, Breezeflight," Ren said. His face was covered in a mask of guilt and outrage. "You're--you were Daisyheart's best friend."

"Yes? Well, I'm also a warrior of SpringClan. You know, that group of cats that you mortally endangered last night. And I can and will hurt you."

Ren's eyes widened. "What has gotten into you? You're not acting like yourself at all. You shouldn't even be here. If your Clan is in such trouble, why aren't you over there, helping them?"

"I'm sick of playing the hero," I snarled. "I'd rather play the villain-" I broke off abruptly, staring at a face that had emerged, for a fleeting second, on the edge of the crowd. "It can't be," I whispered.

Yowls of outrage and disappointment broke out as I ran out of the arena, past Ren, breaking off the fight. "Coward! Come back and face him! What's the matter, sweetie, too scared to put your claws where your mew is?"

I reached the spot where I thought I saw the face, but the tom had vanished.

"Breezeflight, what's going on?" Ren asked, coming up beside me.

"I think--I thought I saw a ghost," I stammered.

"A ghost?" he said. Then his eyes widened. "Did you see Daisyheart?"

"No." I shook my head. "I just..." How could I explain it to him? He'd think I was crazy. There was no way this tom was alive. I had been imagining things.

"So. Do you still want to fight me, and tear me to bits?"

I looked up at him, into those haunted yellow eyes of his, and I felt something inside of me break. I couldn't hide in front of him. Everyone back at the camp, I could manage. There were always warrior duties to be done, always something to worry about. Always a distraction.

Not here. I felt my walls come crashing down. I felt an unstoppable tidal wave of hatred and anger and indescribable grief flood through me. "I just--I just want her back," I sobbed.

"I know," whispered Ren. He looked furious for a split second. "I'm sorry, it's just I've... tried so hard to forget... and you, it's like a boulder being dropped on me..." His voice ended in a snarl.

A heartbeat of silence passed. Then he added, more gently, "But I don't blame you. That's madness. I don't suppose it's possible to forget her, is it? As it shouldn't be."

We talked well into the night, remembering Daisyheart. And by the time the moon had reached its summit, the pain had--well, not faded, but turned into a different kind of pain. Less of a roar and more of an ever-present hum. Like a horribly infected wound had been cleansed, though it was still open on the skin.

Finally, Ren got to his paws. Behind us, a few alleys away, we could still here the terrible screams and shouts coming from the Red Arena.

"I think I lost my head for a bit there. I'm sorry for threatening you," I said awkwardly.

"Be careful, Breezeflight," Ren said meaningfully. "Be careful of who you become."

I wanted to ask him what he meant--my eyes went to his scars, to the incomplete look in his gaze--but my throat felt oddly constricted. Instead, I merely nodded.

"Come on." He tapped his tail to my shoulder. "I'll walk you home."

- - - -

"And no one suspects us?" Odessa asked for the thousandth time.

The gray tabby tom she was speaking to, Rabbitfur, shook his head. "Why would they? Hawkeye's the one who brought in the fire, and Thornfeather set it on Quailstar."

"Thornfeather," hissed Odessa. "She messed everything up. We should've predicted that she'd betray us."

Rabbitfur spoke dryly. "We are hardly ones to speak of betrayal."

"Still. You'd think--we specifically told her. She and Hawkeye were the perfect candidates to take the blame--I always thought Thornfeather hated Viperstar--why did she turn on Quailstar instead?" asked Odessa.

"I don't know. Why did you turn on Viperstar?"

Odessa glared at Rabbitfur. "You know why."

He gave her a deadened sort of smile. "You are beautiful when you're angry."

Lashing her tail, Odessa hissed, "Viperstar will be paranoid now. He will be constantly on the lookout for another attempt on his life. We must be careful."

"Careful," repeated Rabbitfur, and something in his voice made her look up from her pacing.

"What is it, then?"

"Duckpaw's dead, you know. And Quailstar lost four lives."

Odessa blanched slightly. "I--That wasn't--We didn't mean for that to happen."

"No, maybe not." Rabbitfur's eyes darkened. "But it did."

"Are you getting cold paws about this now?" she said in disbelief.

His breathing turned ragged. "I love you, Odessa. You know I do. But you're not yourself right now. Are you really justifying those deaths? The many more we could've caused? And for what?"

"For what?" she repeated. "For us! For the Clans, too! You think Viperstar has sunshine and rainbows in mind for the Order!"

But Rabbitfur was shaking his head, and Odessa saw with shock that there were tears in his eyes. "Duckpaw, Odessa. He was just an apprentice, he had his whole life ahead of him. I thought the day we murdered all those cats--including those kits' parents--would be the greatest evil GreenClan would ever see. Do you remember, Odessa? Remember? We were so young then, but I remember all the warriors going out to massacre any rogue they could find... They killed Needle and Spine, and you know they had kits by the river... Sometimes I wonder what happened to those kits..."

A horrid ball of something was forming in Odessa's stomach. "What are you saying, Rabbitfur? Have you forgotten that Viperstar banished my sister, Hollystrike? No cat is safe while that madcat remains in power."

Rabbitfur sunk to the ground. "We shouldn't have used fire."

Odessa went to sit beside him. She moved her tail towards him, but he flinched away.

Hurt and trying not to show it, she murmured, "We'll try poison next time."

He raised his head slowly, looking at her for a long moment. She shifted uncomfortably, then blurted, "I would do anything for you. Do you know that?"

"I know," he said, and his eyes dropped back to the floor.

"I'm serious, Rabbitfur. I don't know why you love me--honestly, my soul, my heart... I'm vile. But I... when I'm with you I can see something else. A better future." Odessa couldn't believe it; there were tears running down her own cheeks now. "I know it's horrible, but I love you the only way I know how. And I would kill for you, I would do whatever it took."

He turned to face her. Their noses were inches apart. "Loves like ours," he murmured, "they don't work out. They're cursed from the beginning."

"Not us. Not this. We won't be broken."

"What happens when our sins catch up to us?"

"I don't care," she said fiercely. "I don't care how sinful our love is."

"Odessa-"

"I don't care."

He hesitated. Then he nodded. "Viperstar will fall. The Order will fall."

"And we'll usher in a new era for GreenClan. I'm sick of the shadows. If I must bear the guilt of what it will take to get us back to the light... I'm willing to do it. I'll be left behind. I'll stay in the dark," Odessa vowed in a quiet voice.

"The light? Forget the light." Rabbitfur finally smiled, and Odessa felt a warm bolt of energy flow through her as she was reminded of the reason she had to keep living. "I'll stay in the dark with you. Where you go, I go."

- - - -

Ren and I padded through the woods without conversation; we were both emotionally exhausted, it seemed, as well as physically, considering the late hour.

"Still smells like smoke," Ren said in a hushed voice.

I had no energy left, not even to blame him for the fire. "We'd better split up now," I said. "I doubt the rest of the Clan will like seeing you..."

"Right. I'll see you-" He broke off abruptly. "Did you hear that?"

"No." I hesitated, straining my ears.

We both heard it the second time: a rustling in the undergrowth that was a little too loud and a little too close for me to dismiss it as some nocturnal creature's stirrings.

"What could it be?"

And then there was a voice. A low, horrible voice. It was thin and reedy, and it made a horribly cold feeling spread from my heart outwards.

"You have seen me," it hissed. "You must pay for this... Oh, Breezeflight, you must pay for your crimes."

"M-my crimes?" I stammered, pressing closer to Ren.

Ren's eyes scanned the undergrowth. "Show yourself!" he said loudly, boldly.

He stepped forward, but it was too late; the rustling had intensified, and switched location. I spun around, so that Ren and I stood back-to-back. "Who's there?" I said, my voice sounding pathetic and small in the loud darkness.

The thing lashed out so suddenly, grabbing onto my paw, that I was sure it was a snake. "Help!" I screamed, my voice jolting as I hit the floor. I could feel something revoltingly scaly holding my paw as it dragged me back into the undergrowth.

Ren lunged forward, grabbing the scruff of my neck and trying to yank me away from my assailant. I sprang up and tackled the creature, screaming, "It's a snake! It'll bite, get out of range!"

But it wasn't a snake. It was a cat--no, that couldn't be right. There were scales, it was all scaly... where was the fur?

"What are you?" The bile rose in my throat as I stumbled backwards.

Moonlight fell on the cat as it stepped forward, a low hiss of murderous rage filling the air.

And I beheld the most wretched sight I'd ever seen.

It was a cat, yes, but barely. Its face was horribly disfigured; the skin around one eye had melted so that you couldn't even see the eyeball, and it was completely bald, save a few random patches of torn-up fur clinging to the places where its pelt sagged off its bones. Its skin was bare, crossed with scars and marks, as well as angry red bruises and welts: a patchwork made up of the marks of torture.

Most horrible, I think, was the look in its one eye: pure insanity, soulless, crazed.

It was a look I realized that I recognized.

"Duskwatcher?"

- - - -

Lionpatch went racing through the medicine cat's den, leaping over the many bodies of still-recovering Clanmates, till he reached Blossomleaf's nest. He shook her awake and guided her outside, so they could talk in private.

"What's wrong? Do you know what time it is?" asked Blossomleaf, squinting blearily at the sky.

"There's been... I've received a prophecy."

She was instantly alert. "What is it?"

Lionpatch took a deep breath and recited:

"The three divided must again unite,

Blood is not blood, blood is this fight.

Beware the sleeper who slowly wakes,

Stain the sky scarlet as the earth quakes.

Lifes to die and deaths to live,

When two armies gather and three armies war,

The last warrior the last word has to give."

Blossomleaf took a deep breath. "Well. It's not very pleasant, is it? What do you think it means?"

Lionpatch shook his head. "All I can tell you is this: dark times are ahead."

The End