[TB] TWILIGHT -- Chapter 20 (Patreon)

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Shadepool fumbled in the darkness, uncertain of where she was - she guessed that this was someplace between dream and reality, like where she had floated just before entering StarClan's hunting grounds. She wished that Yellowfang's tongue had just sent her into the waking world instead, but perhaps her own troubled thoughts were miring her here.

As if in reflection of that, Shadepool saw shapes form in the darkness. It took her a moment to recognize what they were - the thick, winding branches of a bush, thick as sycamores, all tangled in on themselves to form an impassable wall that Shadepool couldn't even see through. Impossibly huge thorns bristled from the surface, keeping her from drawing too close to investigate.

Shadepool shivered. There was something so familiar about this structure. Was this the barrier she had erected between herself and Nightfrost? Or, more importantly, was this the barrier that Nightfrost was maintaining now?

Her claws flexed. She wanted to rip it all down but knew that she would tear herself to pieces trying.

Onewhisker is gone, and so is Barkface, now, too, she thought miserably, staring at the thorny wall. There's no way to learn the truth of what happened. StarClan doesn't have any answers, and they might not even be able to help. What are we supposed to do?

It's all been for nothing!

Not long ago, she would've been able to lean on her brother and share her misery with him to keep her head clear enough to think - now, though, it was all hers and hers alone. It was so heavy and suffocating, and Shadepool felt like she was drowning.

“You'd be shocked just how much of it all was you, Shade,” he'd said.

He's right, she thought, crouching low. She shut her eyes tight. I... I've never been able to handle anything without him.

I put too much on him; now he's gone, and I don't know what to do anymore.

She tried to will herself to wake up. Was this StarClan's doing, keeping her here? Perhaps it was the shadow-cats trying to steal her spirit as they had with Onewhisker and Barkface. Shadepool shivered, feeling cold.

Did StarClan know what darkness lay here beside the lake? If they had, why did they send the Clans here?

Shadepool opened her eyes and saw a pair of white paws. The white cat stood before her, their pelt so blindingly bright that it seemed to absorb the darkness, creating a strange glow around their body. It wasn't starlight, like StarClan spirits, but it reminded Shadepool of the Moonstone, back in the old forest.

“It's you,” she said, too upset to be as incredulous as the last time she had seen the creature.  Shadepool lifted her muzzle, looking at the white cat in the starry pits they had for eyes, trying not to get lost in their depths. “What do you want?”

The white cat, as always, said nothing.

Shadepool frowned. “Whatever,” she sighed, exhausted. “Just stand there and stare. I still don't know what you're supposed to be, but whatever you are, I guess it's not helpful.”

“Wait for me!”

Shadepool's ears twitched. The high-pitched voice did not belong to the white cat, but it was familiar.

That sounds like...

A small hole opened in the thorn wall, just large enough for two kittens to stumble through before it closed up tight. The kitten in the lead, a she-kit with a tortoiseshell pelt, was far ahead of her littermate, a little black tom who was fumbling behind her on stumpy little legs.

Shadepool's eyes widened at the sight.

“Come on! Keep up!” the little tortoiseshell mewled.

The stumpy tom was trying his best. He protested, “I'm too short! It's not fair!”

Shadepool watched as the little she-kit stopped and turned, looking back at her littermate with shining eyes. She waited for the smaller tom to catch up, the two touching noses and purring as they walked off as one, pelts brushing.

That's... us.

Shadepool glanced back at the white cat, confused. They seemed unaffected by the kittens, who had faded into the darkness.

“I'm not sure I understand,” Shadepool admitted. “Nightfrost and I were always close, but now there's this between us.” She gestured at the thorn barrier with her tail. “What does this even have to do with what happened to Onewhisker and Barkface, anyway? What's going on?”

The white cat said nothing.

Shadepool hissed through her teeth. Not sure what I expected from you there. The vision likely had nothing to do with the white cat at all if this was Shadepool's own mind. Thinking about how things used to be with Nightfrost must have summoned a vision of a happier time, simple as that.

Winding her tail around her paws, she asked, “Is there anything you can do to help me? Anything at all?”

The white cat swished their tail and burst into hundreds of blinding white moths.

Shadepool jerked back, shocked at the suddenness of it all - the entire dream world was filled with the moths like stars in the night sky, illuminating the thorny cocoon of Shadepool's mind. It was as beautiful as it was haunting, and Shadepool struggled to comprehend it, jaws agape at the sight.

One of the moths fluttered towards her, landing on her nose and flapping its blinding white wings. Shadepool kept herself still, uncertain what to do - she tried not to blink, but the moth was too bright to look at, and she had to shut her eyes.

When she dared to open them, she was lying on her side by the Moonpool.

Her entire body ached, and she struggled to move as if the black sands beneath her wanted to swallow her whole. Her eyes worked just fine, however, and she found herself staring at the waters of the Moonpool, the surface lit blinding white by the light of the full moon.

She had slept for a whole day.

Shadepool immediately sat up, ignoring the protestations of her body. Her heart thudded in her ears like a thunderstorm - a whole day? Brackenfur would be furious! How could she ever justify it to him? Moreover, what was Tinystar thinking at this moment?

Great StarClan above; they're going to split my pelt between them!

A commotion at the top of the hollow made Shadepool turn her muzzle to the scraggly hawthorn. Her heartbeat accelerated, blood roaring in her ears - was this Onewhisker and Barkface's attacker? A wild animal? She had been a fool to come to the Moonpool alone!

But the muzzle that pushed through the dry brush was familiar and golden-brown colored, touched with white and gray: Brackenfur.

For a moment, Shadepool and her mentor stared at one another, one at the top of the hollow, his thin shoulders lit by moonlight, the other at the bottom, half-covered in black sand, eyes wild with sleep and fear.

Shadepool tried to guess what Brackenfur was thinking, but his expression gave nothing away. Her stomach curdled with disappointment in herself - Brackenfur was definitely going to yell at her for this, especially since he had come all this way to get her himself.

He didn't have to say anything. Shadepool got to her paws and climbed up the narrow path to meet him, ignoring the sleep dragging at her muscles. Her shoulders felt heavy and her belly sick, and resignedly, she decided that Brackenfur could be as angry at her as he liked: She deserved it. She had disobeyed him again, and again, it had been for nothing.

Brackenfur slid to the side to let Shadepool pass. She heard him sigh softly, his breath stirring the fur on her flank.

“There you are!” Sorreltail's voice surprised Shadepool. The tortoiseshell she-cat was sitting with Sun and Cloudtail, the three she-cats pacing a stony patch just outside the hawthorn. Sorreltail was staring at Shadepool, ears pricked.

Shadepool blinked. She supposed it would be foolish if Brackenfur had come here alone, and Cloudtail was the best tracker in ThunderClan. Sorreltail and Sun's presence, though, was far more comforting despite how wretched she felt.

“We were looking everywhere for you,” Sun fretted. She glanced at Cloudtail. “Thankfully, Cloudtail caught your scent before-”

“We should head back,” Cloudtail meowed sharply, cutting Sun off. She yawned, pausing to stretch, curling her white tail over her back. “Lots to do, and all that...”

Cloudtail began heading down the slope. Sorreltail and Sun glanced at one another, then at Shadepool, who could only hang her head in shame.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured. “I didn't mean to worry anyone.”

“It's okay,” Sorreltail told her, though Shadepool heard some hesitancy there. “It was medicine cat business.”

Sun nodded her head in agreement. “Tinystar was quite worried, though.”

Worried is a word for it, I'm sure, Shadepool thought. She looked over her shoulder at Brackenfur, wondering if he had anything to say now that they were out of the Moonpool's hollow.

He limped past her, heading after Cloudtail. Not yet, it seemed. Shadepool sighed and trotted after them. Sorreltail and Sun flanked her.

The walk back to camp was quiet and slow to account for Brackenfur's leg. Shadepool felt the silence ringing in her ears, rattling her mind. She wanted to at least talk to Sorreltail, but it seemed like the tortoiseshell she-cat was focusing intensely on the path in front of her - she looked tired, and Shadepool saw that she stumbled over more than one root twisting out of the earth.

Shadepool's pelt prickled. They were all tired because of her. She fought to keep her tail from dragging in the icy leaf litter. Nightfrost was right - she always dragged everyone else into her problems.

The moon was setting as they approached the thorn tunnel. At a signal from Brackenfur's tail, the warriors all filed in, leaving him and Shadepool alone outside the camp. Shadepool did not miss the sympathetic look that Sorreltail flashed her before she disappeared through the entrance.

“Come,” Brackenfur rasped.

Shadepool, confused, followed Brackenfur as he limped away from camp and down towards the lake. They took their time, walking in the quiet gray predawn, a warmish breeze rattling the leafless trees above as the stars of Silverpelt began to disappear.

ThunderClan territory did not have the prettiest shoreline with the lake - no grass giving way to soft, pale sand like in WindClan; rather, it was a sudden transition between a grassy slope and a line of wet pebbles, worn smooth by the lapping waves of the lake. A wooden half-bridge was stuck out close to ShadowClan territory, slick with frost and bare of any activity for seasons. It was pretty enough but not ideal for patrolling or hunting.

Brackenfur settled down at the edge of the pebbly shore with a sigh, taking a moment to bend down and lap at his twisted leg, which looked sore and swollen.

Shadepool sat beside him, wrapping her tail tightly around her paws. Guilt bit at her pelt like ants, and the anticipation of what was surely coming next made her fidget.

“You're lucky that Mothwing told me that you had left the Gathering early,” Brackenfur rumbled, lifting his muzzle from his leg. “When Tinystar saw that you hadn't returned with us, he almost jumped to accuse WindClan of taking you hostage. I was able to stop him from sending a battle party right into their camp - he was preparing for it when Cloudtail caught your scent trail in our territory.”

Shadepool's ears burned. Had she really almost caused a battle between ThunderClan and WindClan?

“I... I didn't tell Mothwing where I went,” Shadepool mumbled, shuffling her paws. “How did you know...?”

“I'm not daft!” Brackenfur scoffed. The fur along his neck lifted slightly. “Considering the timing, I assumed you went to the Moonpool to look for Barkface's spirit, despite me not wanting you to. Cloudtail finding your scent on the trail to the uplands confirmed it.” He took a deep breath and exhaled through his teeth in a stressed hiss. “What did you find?”

Shadepool dug her claws into the earth. The sound of lapping waves filled her mind, but they did not ease her. When she spoke, it was as if she were choking on a frozen mouse: “Barkface isn't there, either. He was taken, like Onewhisker.”

Brackenfur closed his eyes. He shuddered from ears to tail. “I had hoped...” he breathed, “but...”

He seemed at a loss. Shadepool did not blame him. She wished that she had better news. She wished that it hadn't been for nothing again.

“Did StarClan have any more information?” Brackenfur asked.

Shadepool shook her head. “Nothing helpful. Yellowfang says they're just as confused about it as we are.” Shadepool hunched her shoulders, shivering. “She thinks the shadow-cats I saw at the ambush site might be responsible for it.”

Brackenfur frowned at that.

“Also...” Shadepool hesitated to talk about it, but she supposed she might as well while Brackenfur wasn't yelling at her: “Spottedleaf was acting so strange - she kept ranting about some Omen she'd seen, and she wasn't herself at all. It's like she was obsessed with it. She wouldn't hear a word I said to her!”

“An Omen?” Brackenfur repeated.

Shadepool frowned at him. He didn't sound the least bit surprised, and his expression hadn't changed a whisker. That was very unlike him.

“You knew about that already,” she guessed.

Brackenfur nodded.

“And you didn't tell me?!” Shadepool hissed. The fur along her spine rose indignantly. “Why not?!”

Brackenfur sighed. The morning breeze stirred his pelt. “I did not tell you because StarClan knows as little about it as I do,” he answered frankly. He stared out over the water. “If it has consumed Spottedleaf, though, it is surely dangerous.”

Shadepool huffed. “So nobody knows anything about anything,” she concluded, frustration prickling in her pelt. The grinding of the stones beneath her paws reflected how she felt right now. “We're all just fumbling in the dark - even StarClan.” She sighed. “Aren't they supposed to know everything?”

Brackenfur twitched his whiskers. “I once thought so when I was younger,” he admitted. “But, perhaps there are things even StarClan cannot comprehend. It seems we have stumbled into some darkness beneath the lake, and we must figure it out together if we are all to survive. Perhaps that is why the Clans were brought here.”

But why is it our responsibility? Shadepool wondered. Why us?

He glanced at her as if he could read her thoughts, and he looked older than his seasons and tired enough that a moon's worth of sleep would not heal him. She understood then that he had been changed by his knowledge of the Omen - though not in the same way that Spottedleaf was. That weight had been crushing him for who knew how long.

Now, the burden was shared.

Shadepool touched her nose to his shoulder. “What do we do?” she asked.

“I do not know,” Brackenfur said. “We must trust that when StarClan finds an answer, they will tell us. For now, we can only guide our Clanmates through the fog of the unknown.”

Though he was just as clueless and uncertain as she was, Shadepool felt comforted by Brackenfur's presence, the idea that she didn't have to be alone with this. Perhaps he felt the same. She felt his chin rest on her forehead, his breath tickling her ear.

The closeness was bittersweet, however. If Brackenfur knew that she had love in her heart for Crowflight, this would all evaporate like mist in the sunshine. There was no way he would ever understand, no way that he would ever be able to trust her again.

“What will you tell Tinystar?” she asked, pulling her muzzle away. She couldn't even fathom how angry her father was with her.

“Medicine cat business is, in the end, medicine cat business,” Brackenfur rasped. His yellow eyes flashed in the orange light of dawn. “Even Tinystar must accept that that is all he needs to know.”

Shadepool's tail twisted with discomfort. “We're not going to tell him about Onewhisker and Barkface, or the Omen?”

“Not yet,” Brackenfur told her. “I'm not sure what good it will do right now. Tinystar is already fighting a war on two fronts - the last thing he needs right now is more to worry him. For now, this is a medicine cat problem.”

“Is that the best idea?” Shadepool ventured. She had told Crowflight about Onewhisker already, and she dreaded the idea of telling him that Barkface had suffered the same fate.

“I do not know,” Brackenfur said again. His muzzle pressed thin. “I imagine that all of this - the WindClan situation, the disappearing spirits, the Omen - is connected somehow. Until we have more information, though, we risk speculating wildly, and the more that know, the more likely panic will arise.”

Shadepool didn't like it, but she nodded in agreement. The last thing they needed right now was more cats becoming as deranged as Spottedleaf. Perhaps I ought to keep this close, then. Only for now.

She really didn't like the idea of keeping a secret from Crowflight, and she wasn't sure she could, really - but she also didn't want him to spiral from the knowledge and the hopelessness that it brought. He had reeled from learning about Onewhisker, after all. She wondered if Nightfrost might listen, but the tightness of the thorns came to mind, and she pushed it aside.

“We should return to the Clan,” Brackenfur meowed. “They will be missing us.”

Shadepool nodded in agreement. She got up and stretched, her paws scattering a few pebbles down into the lake's cold, gray water. Above her head honked a group of geese as they flew in formation, their bodies black against the rising sun.

Geese? she thought, glancing at Brackenfur, who seemed just as surprised to see them. Does that mean...?

“Newleaf,” Brackenfur sighed, his eyes sparkling. “Finally, some good news: newleaf is finally here!”