first posted Jan 18, 2016 16:24:54 GMT
Post by lionstar on Jan 18, 2016 16:24:54 GMT
Lionstone
It had set in during the Gathering. It had set in with the arrival of Thicketstar and his shock, it had set in with standing on the rock rather than sitting with the deputies and talking with them. She had gone to one Gathering as a deputy - in the next, she led her Clan, which had come dangerously close to oblivion.
Acornstar, Crowfeather, Applepaw. All were taken by twolegs. Lionstone had been there. They were having a meeting on the moor when twolegs decended. Crowfeather attempted to run, but his breathing was bad. Applepaw tried to help her mentor. Lionstone knew we was big and strong enough to drag Crowfeather, and begged Applepaw to run as she dashed forwards to help the ailing medicine cat. It was then she heard Acornstar yowl, and Lionstone had spun around to see a twoleg advancing with a net and a cage. "Help him!" She had heard Crowfeather shout. Lionstone charged, not knowing what she could do against a twoleg, and found the twoleg hesitated. A panting cat, a young one and a small one seemed not to scare them, but in that moment, Lionstone's bulk had. The almost-full moon shone down, and then she heard Applepaw squeal.
Captured. Crowfeather lunged, an attempt to help his apprentice, but was captured. "Run, Lionstone!" Acornstar had ordered. "Run!" Twolegs holding thick sticks approached her. Acornstar leapt in the way of them. Dogs were barking. She ran towards her leader, with full intent of grabbing him by the scruff and running, but she wasn't able to get there in time. He was scooped up, and the hands converged on her. "Run, or the Clan will have no one!" Lionstone, tears in her eyes, had fled. She ran through brambles and made sure the twolegs were gone. Acronstar had saved her life, at the cost of his freedom, and quite probably his life.
She never thought this would happen this way. As a warrior, she never thought she'd become deputy. As a deputy, she knew one day she would lead WindClan; but she had always imagined she would be a senior warrior, and Acornstar dieing of old age, rather than being taken, and probably murdered, by twolegs. He would never submit himself to them, so he couldn't imagine him being caged up forever as a kittypet, or some sort of curio. It made her livid. It made her angry she couldn't go back and save him.
But for now, she had a Clan to lead. Lionstone's breathing was accompanied by the wind as she ran alone across the moor. She had left the return from the Gathering to Softears, and had taken off on her own. She was not as fast cat, but she had endurance to make up for it. She ran at a steady pace, not faltering. She knew the way, even in the dark.
The stench of twolegs was heavy on the air, and it only grew more and more concentrated as Lionstone neared the thunderpath. The ginger tabby paused at the edge of the path, hearing the distant roar of the monsters. They stopped for nothing, and there were plenty of tales of cats and other animals being maimed, but more often flat-out killed by their round paws. Dead birds, badgers, and cats had all been found at some time or another on the edge of the road. Even deer and dogs were not immune.
One of the monsters zoomed past her, and then, looking both ways, the long haired cat darted across the thunderpath, leaving WindClan territory behind her. She paused on the other side, and looked up at the stars. Was Acornstar there? So many cats she knew were there, but there were more in the land of the living. That was her goal. She began to run again, towards the mothermouth.
At the mouthmouth, entrance to the moonstone, Lionstone took a last glance at the stars before stepping in. She had come to the moonstone when she was an apprentice, as all did, but had no gone beyond the few times she was directed, and never alone. Her yellow eyes seemed to glow in the darkness as she padded along, not a huge fan of the small space. She had never liked tight spaces - how the other cats dealt with being constantly enclosed by trees was beyond her, nevermind this tunnel.
The end of the path led to the Moonstone. It glittered, seeming to contain the stars themselves. It was a funnel for StarClan to speak with them. She had never before touched it - what need did she have to touch it? But now...now it was time to. Lionstone walked over to the Moonstone and stared at it. If everything went as it should, if everything went as she hoped, she'd come away with a new name.
That was an interesting thought. Lionstone's name was her creed. It had been no surprise when she was named Lionstone - it fit the heavyset, powerful cat in mind and matter, and she was about to lose her name. She would gain another, but...it made her think. I am more than my name, she reminded herself. her name, however much she liked it, could not get in the way of what must be done. In fact, it demanded the opposite. It demanded action. I cannot wait while twolegs blight WindClan. I cannot hesitate, even as Clans collapse and leaders are murdered. If I hesitate, I doom myself, and quite possibly others.
With that in mind, Lionstone sat down and touched her nose to the Moonstone. It was cold and smooth against her nose. She stared at it a moment more, then closed her eyes and let what was to come rush towards her.
***
The ginger she-cat opened her eyes, and found herself standing in the stars. She predicted something like that might happen, but she wasn't prepared for the sensation. It was like she was flying, but she was stationary. Stars glittered below her, above, and around. She could see no Earth, no moor, no land nor water, but she didn't feel scared. She looked down at herself, as corporal as ever, and then lifted a paw. She held it up for a moment, and then down onto...whatever surface she was on. As though standing on water, a translucent glowing blue ripple stemmed from her motions. She followed the ripple as it outlined the ghostly forms of cats in the distance.
Lionstone stood there, alone for a moment, then the cats joined her. They kept a distance, but they were not so far away that Lionstone felt like an intruder. She felt like a guest. Her heard sped up - this was StarClan. Leaders, elders, deputies, queens, kits, warriors, they were all here. They were watching her. She could feel the crowd around her. They were not here to judge what they already knew. The question was, who would step forwards first?
As if on cue, a fluffy white tom left the crowd. He was smaller than her, but not by much. Lionstone knew him instantly. "Sheepnose!" she said. He had been taken by twolegs, but she hadn't realized he died...it made her worry for Acornstar very much.
"Lionstone," her predecessor purred, "I thought Acornstar might have picked you. You were always a solid, reliable cat. You stepped up to the job in my absence, and you did it well despite the task before you. I am here to give you your first life as leader: endurance and determination. No matter how trying a situation might be, no matter how exhausting, you will - you must - find the strength to go on. Things will slow you, but in time, hardship can be conquered." The stocky white tom touched his nose to hers, and Lionstone felt a wave of pain. She closed her eyes and braced herself, but didn't move as ever nerve seemed to catch fire, and culminate in her chest. Sheepnose withdrew his nose and the ginger cat let out a sigh as the pain subsided. Sheepnose dipped his head, and with a fluidity only a StarClan cat could have, rejoined the crowd.
The next cat to step forwards was far larger than Sheepnose. His fur was a blueish grey, long and tufted at the ears just like her own. His muzzle was lined with silver. Lionstone's yellow eyes, exactly like his, lit up. Her grandfather had lived just long enough to see her apprenticed. She took after him in build and size, and could remember his death clearly. Then an elder, he had left camp after some kits. He had died in the gorge: after jumping in and rescuing the kits one by one, his heart had given out. "You're bigger than I am now," Stormstep said, "When did this happen, little kit?"
"Grandfather," Lionstone purred, "I'm so glad to see you again."
"Only for a moment," Stormstep reminded her. "I am here to grant you your second life, and that is bravery. You know I stood at the edge of a gorge, and knew that this was my last act. You know I did it anyways. May you always feel brave in the face of danger, but know the risks laid out to you. Bravery does not come without fear, but it is the ability to act in the face of fear, and act in the way that is most beneficial not to you, but first to your Clan." He stepped forwards again and touched his nose to her own. This time, Lionstone was more prepared for the shock. The pain was not fiery this time, but cold, like a rush of water and the cramping of muscles. Was this what Stormstep felt as he swam in the gorge, intent on saving the litter? She was sure of it. Stormstep pulled back, rubbed his cheek against hers, and walked away. She could make him out in the crowd far better than she could see Sheepnose. Her grandfather gave her a nod of encouragement, and she looked around for the next cat, torn on whether she wanted to see Acornstar or have his fate remain a mystery to her.
Lionstone was beginning to get worried that no one else was going to step forwards when the group of cats parted to allow an elder, slow to move and small, step forwards. She was built like a typical WindClan cat - small and thin, and her age made her seem that much smaller and thinner. Thistletooth - Lionstone knew that walk right away. She knew the patchy lilac pelt, and she knew the words that spilled from the elder's mouth before she old she-cat had a chance to say it. "This cat," Thistletooth said in her never-approving way to the assembled cats, "is a badger in a ginger pelt. What kind of WindClan warrior is she?" Out of the corner of her eyes, Lionstone saw Stormstep roll his eyes. "And yet," Thistletooth went on, "You are to lead WindClan. A masculine she-cat, a giant, slow WindClanner who hates changing my bedding," Lionstone was used to Thistletooth's abuse - she fit her name in fighting poweress, Lionstone had been told, but also in speech.
"But," the elderly cat looked up at Lionstone, "you did turn out good. In fact, you took my insult - a badger in a ginger pelt - and owned it. You turned it into a source of pride, you took an insult and made it your honor." Lionstone was speechless - compliments from Thistletooth, the staunch traditionalist?
"No words, Lionstone?" Thistletooth purred. "Then I will go on and speak. Your third life will be honor. In the face of insults, you held your head up and did your duties. You turned an insult ad found strength from it. Honor is very important. Your actions will determine the reputation of WindClan, so may your actions always be honorable." She reached up and touched her nose to Lionstone's. Again, pain shot forth from the touch, this time cramping through tendons. She swayed, but stayed on her feet. "Well aren't you a tough one," Thistletooth crooned. Again, in the background, Lionstone saw her grandfather roll her eyes. StarClan or not, tensions evidently still existed. She had a feeling Thistletooth and Stormstep didn't get along in life, and neither did they in death. Even in StarClan, elders would be elders. She never knew Stormstep to back down, and she never knew Thistletooth to do so either.
Thistletooth hobbled away, and Lionstone watched her Stormstep shake his head. She held down a bemused purr, but her expression changed as soon as she saw the next cat. This one was young. Every leader, it was rumored, had a dead apprentice on the list. Lionstone had only one apprentice before Stagpaw, and they were not dead. No, this apprentice was not hers, but he had not been fated to live a long life. "Newtpaw," Lionstone broke her silence, "I am sorry to see you here."
"I can run as much as I like here," the weak-hearted apprentice said. He had been found dead of an evident heart attack a few weeks prior. Lionstone was saddened greatly by the loss, but not as much as his uncle, Acornstar. It had been a hard blow for the older leader. She remembered following Newtpaw out one night, seeing him train in the dark to keep up, despite his inability to go on for long. Something in her knew she'd never see him become a warrior, but he had tried so hard, so incessantly. They had sat and talked - Lionstone could remember training on her own at night, though not because of ill health.
"I'm still sorry. I wish there was something we could have done," Lionstone said to the apprentice.
"You did enough," Newtpaw replied, "You saw me that night, outside of camp and on my own. You saw me struggling, and you did what you could to help. You told me a story that I'd never forget. A secret. That my uncle found you training one night. You didn't get me in trouble - you were aware. You helped an apprentice that you didn't need to help. In fact," the little apprentice let out a chuckle, "you probably should have told on me. But you didn't. You kept an eye out even for the little apprentices wandering away. and you helped. For that, I will give you your fourth life. Vigilance. May you always be aware of the needs of other cats, and your own. May you always see danger and opportunities alike on the horizon." Lionstone bent her head, and Newtpaw stretched up. Their noses touched, and again, Lionstone felt pain, a spasming one in her heart and lungs, and a pressure on the backs of her eyes. It felt as though her heart was going to explore, and shred her lungs as it happened. Then, as Newtpaw stepped back, it was gone. Lionstone blinked slowly. Weren't some of these lives not supposed to hurt? Though to be fair, she still had five more to go, StarClan willing.
StarClan was willing. The next cat to walk forwards was a brown tabby with a white chest, and sharp, almost dog-like features. Dogthroat. He had passed to StarClan just after becoming a father. They had never been too close growing up - Dogthroat was eight moons her senior when he had died. She had been a young apprentice, and he had been just about to become a warrior, and Lionstone's more solitary ways in her early warrior days meant they hadn't spoken much in camp. However, they had gotten along. Both she and Dogthroat were ferocious defenders of WindClan, and once, on an ambushed hunting patrol, had become the backbone of resistance. Lionstone and Dogthroat stood their ground, back-to-back, while an apprentice ran for help. By the time the apprentice came back, the ambush was over - bloodied but triumphant, the duo had sent them packing.
"Lionstone," Dogthroat said, "You and I fought hard to defend WindClan. You are still a brave fighter, and I went out in a flurry of claws against the twoleg blight. You already are strong, but my gift to you, and your fifth life, is strength. Not just power in combat, but strength whenever you need it. And I know it as sure as you do, sometimes a cat like you or I needs the strength against oneself to sit back and say they need to rest for tomorrow - despite what we may want to do. May your strength never fail you."
"Thank you, Dogthroat," Lionstone managed to say before he touched her nose. Again, pain. Lionstone knew it was coming, but it hit her spine this time. Clubbing, again and again, and again, the mashing of twolegs against a cat's back. Perhaps Dogthroat's last pain, but also a welling against it. Strength to the end. He stepped away and Lionstone spoke once more. "Your kits are doing well," she could see Fallowpool sitting at the edge of the StarClan cats, and she and Dogthroat both looked thrilled. It was a shame they would never see them grow up.
"Take care of them, Lionstone," Dogthroat said, before returning to sit with his mate.
There was silence as a little, short-haired white tom walked forwards. His blue eyes were outshining some of the stars. Lionstone smiled when she saw the little deaf tom, Plumpaw. He had gotten lost and never been found, and it seemed his end had been bad. She wondered how the medicine cat apprentice, the one before Applepaw, could give her a life. He had no real powers of speech, after all. He pulled up onto his hindlegs and touched his nose to hers. The pain was not as bad as the other times. It was icy and cold, but she was distracted from it.
"Lionstone," the voice of a young tom, of an unimpeded Plumpaw, rang through her. The sound seemed to come from the touch. "You tried so hard to befriend me, though you didn't know how, and I didn't know how to befriend you. Then, I was lost to the moors, but you looked for me. You didn't give up hope. And I never gave up hope I could do all I set out to do. Your sixth life is hope. May you always find a bright spark even in the darkest of nights. There is always hope. There is always an answer to a problem. Don't let yourself be dragged down by sadness. Always have hope." Lionstone watched as Plumpaw turned and walked away, silent once more.
"Thank you, Plumpaw. I'm glad you're happy here." She doubted the apprentice could hear her, but he turned and dipped his head. Perhaps he could feel her gratitude, and the peace she got from seeing him here. Alive, no, but safe and content, yes. It was good to have closure.
Lionstone heaved a deep breath as the seventh cat walked forwards from the crowd. Lionstone tilted her head slightly - the cream-colored she-cat was one she did not recognize. She was no WindClanner, or if she was, she had gone to StarClan long before Lionstone's own time. The she-cat stopped a tail's length from Lionstone and dipped her head. "My name is Lightfur. I was of ShadowClan, before I came to StarClan. I died of the cough that ravaged us moons ago," she said. "Then, I was a nursing, ailing Queen. I had eaten so rarely I could barely feed my kits. I eventually succumbed to the cough, but you saved the life of my kits."
"I saved them?" Lionstone was unable to control her confusion as she looked out at the assembled cats, then back at Lightfur.
"You did," Lightfur said. "You found the warrior Coalheart hunting on WindClan territory after his defection to feed a dying Clan. Instead of mindlessly obeying the warrior code and driving him out, you asked your friend what he needed. And you gave him a rabbit. Before StarClan, you broke the warrior code." Panic rose up in Lionstone's chest. Being accused of breaking the warrior code by StarClan in one's naming was not how things were supposed to go. Her panic must have been evident - who could hide from StarClan? - for Lightfur spoke again. "He took the rabbit and gave it to me. I was able to nurse my kits. They live on, thanks to your kindness. Your understanding that sometimes Codes must be broken. For this, I have the great honor to give you a life. Your seventh life shall be justice. May you always be fair-minded, even in the face of rules that you could easily hide behind. May justice for all guide your actions, regardless of what Clan or creed they serve." Lightfur touched her nose to Lionstone's, and again, Lionstone felt pain. It wasn't as bad as the others, but it was there. She wondered what it would mean to only feel pain, but she decided it didn't matter. It was what it was. Lightfur pulled back and dipped her head to Lionstone once more before retreating. Lionstone felt honored that she had touched a cat of another Clan in such a way. Part of her wanted to ask the names of the kits, but she doubted Lightfur, now back among the ranks of StarClan, would answer. Lionstone could only hope Thicketstar would take care of them now.
Her yellow eyes looked over the cats before her, and as the eighth cat stepped forwards, Lionstone's heart dropped. She looked down, and her long, billowing tail drooped. "Crowfeather," she whispered, eyes dropping to her paws.
"Look up, Lionstone," the old tom said. "You knew in your heart I couldn't survive twoleg capture. Not with my breathing." His tone was gruff as Lionstone looked up the dark brown tom. Their eyes met and his demeanor softened a bit. "And before you ask, I don't know what happened to Acornstar or Applepaw. I'm sorry, Lionstone. And perhaps it makes me insufficient to grant you this life, but I am here to grant it anyways. You are young. There is no contesting that. But here you stand. And in your life, you will need to know many things, and learn many things. You will need understand. So, for your eighth life, I grant to you wisdom. May you never cease to learn and grow wise to guide those who follow you." He reached up, and touched his nose to hers. She was aware there would be pain, and part of Lionstone longed for it, to have a connection with those she had so recently lost. The pain was intense, and her vision blackened a the edges. She bit down on her tongue and drew her claws, flexing them, in order not to cry out.
"Crowfeather," Lionstone gasped. The tom, who had begun to back away, paused. "Crowfeather, if you see Acornstar or Applepaw, tell them I am so sorry. That I tried. That I will try, for their sake, for the Clan, I won't let this destroy us. Tell Acornstar I hope to make him proud."
"I will, Lionstone," Crowfeather's gruff demeanor vanished for a moment. "But I also know you will make him proud." With that, the former medicine cat joined the others in the stars.
One final life was before her now. Lionstone wondered who would step forwards. Her answer came in the form of a dark tabby tom. He was short in stature, short in hair, long, learn, and windswept. The definition of a WindClan warrior. "Why am I not surprised?" Lionstone muttered.
"Is that any way to greet one's mentor?" Falconflight asked. He was much smaller than Lionstone now, even more than when they had last met in life. "Never mind the one who will give you life nine?"
"I will sit on you," Lionstone said, eyes narrowing. Falconflight had been an awful mentor. The only good thing he'd done for her was to drill the warrior code into her. His jabs at her masculine manner, her slow speed - it had all very nearly broken her. She didn't know how much the old wounds still hurt until he was in front of her once more.
"I was not a good mentor, I admit," Falconflight said, "It took you showing me up to teach me that. I had wanted you to become the WindClan warrior legends speak of. Quick, invisible, a sudden striker and an impossible target. Instead, you are...you. Big, comparatively slow, using power where you do not have speed. A backbone of any patrol under attack. I did not realize how much I hurt you. How close I came to destroying you under insecurities. But you rose above them with honor, as Thistletooth said. But you did not do it with honor alone. You broke the rules, but not out of a sense of justice. I wanted you to run fast enough to catch me. Instead, you ran through brambles and burrs. They hurt. They hurt and hurt time and time again, like every life you have received tonight. But still, you pushed through, and you ambushed me. You pinned me down and held me there, proof of your abilities and your intellect and determination - all traits that you have as lives. They were all traits you learned by yourself that night, no thanks to me. But my pushing, inadvertently, taught you something you must remember. You are solid as stone, and so you must remember the nights you broke the rules to become stronger. Your ninth and final life shall be creativity and adaptability. You succeeded in the bush of brambles, despite it all, because you were willing to think another way. You were willing to stand on front of a Clan that does not train warriors built like you, and be proud of who you were. You did not try to fit a mold. Not all problems will fit a mold. May you always find a creative solution, may you be able to adapt, whatever comes your way. That night, as much as this one, you became the leader you are now."
Falconflight's heartfelt words left Lionstone speechless as he pressed his nose to hers. Lionstone braced herself for pain, but only felt pleasure. A warmth like no other spread through her bones, softening muscles tensed for pain, relaxing her but yet giving her energy to carry on. She felt like she could take on the world, she felt like a Lion, like one of the ancient cats. She felt powerful in that moment. Falconflight stepped back with a look in his eye he almost never had in regard to her. Pride.
"Thank you, Falconflight," Lionstone said, dipping her head. She looked up again as Falconflight spoke once more.
"You now have nine lives. You, my apprentice, are now to be called Lionstar, leader of WindClan. Guide them well, and know you have the blessing of StarClan." Falconstrike stepped back as the cats of StarClan called her name. The stars faded to black around her.
LIVES LIST:
Lionstone stood there, alone for a moment, then the cats joined her. They kept a distance, but they were not so far away that Lionstone felt like an intruder. She felt like a guest. Her heard sped up - this was StarClan. Leaders, elders, deputies, queens, kits, warriors, they were all here. They were watching her. She could feel the crowd around her. They were not here to judge what they already knew. The question was, who would step forwards first?
As if on cue, a fluffy white tom left the crowd. He was smaller than her, but not by much. Lionstone knew him instantly. "Sheepnose!" she said. He had been taken by twolegs, but she hadn't realized he died...it made her worry for Acornstar very much.
"Lionstone," her predecessor purred, "I thought Acornstar might have picked you. You were always a solid, reliable cat. You stepped up to the job in my absence, and you did it well despite the task before you. I am here to give you your first life as leader: endurance and determination. No matter how trying a situation might be, no matter how exhausting, you will - you must - find the strength to go on. Things will slow you, but in time, hardship can be conquered." The stocky white tom touched his nose to hers, and Lionstone felt a wave of pain. She closed her eyes and braced herself, but didn't move as ever nerve seemed to catch fire, and culminate in her chest. Sheepnose withdrew his nose and the ginger cat let out a sigh as the pain subsided. Sheepnose dipped his head, and with a fluidity only a StarClan cat could have, rejoined the crowd.
The next cat to step forwards was far larger than Sheepnose. His fur was a blueish grey, long and tufted at the ears just like her own. His muzzle was lined with silver. Lionstone's yellow eyes, exactly like his, lit up. Her grandfather had lived just long enough to see her apprenticed. She took after him in build and size, and could remember his death clearly. Then an elder, he had left camp after some kits. He had died in the gorge: after jumping in and rescuing the kits one by one, his heart had given out. "You're bigger than I am now," Stormstep said, "When did this happen, little kit?"
"Grandfather," Lionstone purred, "I'm so glad to see you again."
"Only for a moment," Stormstep reminded her. "I am here to grant you your second life, and that is bravery. You know I stood at the edge of a gorge, and knew that this was my last act. You know I did it anyways. May you always feel brave in the face of danger, but know the risks laid out to you. Bravery does not come without fear, but it is the ability to act in the face of fear, and act in the way that is most beneficial not to you, but first to your Clan." He stepped forwards again and touched his nose to her own. This time, Lionstone was more prepared for the shock. The pain was not fiery this time, but cold, like a rush of water and the cramping of muscles. Was this what Stormstep felt as he swam in the gorge, intent on saving the litter? She was sure of it. Stormstep pulled back, rubbed his cheek against hers, and walked away. She could make him out in the crowd far better than she could see Sheepnose. Her grandfather gave her a nod of encouragement, and she looked around for the next cat, torn on whether she wanted to see Acornstar or have his fate remain a mystery to her.
Lionstone was beginning to get worried that no one else was going to step forwards when the group of cats parted to allow an elder, slow to move and small, step forwards. She was built like a typical WindClan cat - small and thin, and her age made her seem that much smaller and thinner. Thistletooth - Lionstone knew that walk right away. She knew the patchy lilac pelt, and she knew the words that spilled from the elder's mouth before she old she-cat had a chance to say it. "This cat," Thistletooth said in her never-approving way to the assembled cats, "is a badger in a ginger pelt. What kind of WindClan warrior is she?" Out of the corner of her eyes, Lionstone saw Stormstep roll his eyes. "And yet," Thistletooth went on, "You are to lead WindClan. A masculine she-cat, a giant, slow WindClanner who hates changing my bedding," Lionstone was used to Thistletooth's abuse - she fit her name in fighting poweress, Lionstone had been told, but also in speech.
"But," the elderly cat looked up at Lionstone, "you did turn out good. In fact, you took my insult - a badger in a ginger pelt - and owned it. You turned it into a source of pride, you took an insult and made it your honor." Lionstone was speechless - compliments from Thistletooth, the staunch traditionalist?
"No words, Lionstone?" Thistletooth purred. "Then I will go on and speak. Your third life will be honor. In the face of insults, you held your head up and did your duties. You turned an insult ad found strength from it. Honor is very important. Your actions will determine the reputation of WindClan, so may your actions always be honorable." She reached up and touched her nose to Lionstone's. Again, pain shot forth from the touch, this time cramping through tendons. She swayed, but stayed on her feet. "Well aren't you a tough one," Thistletooth crooned. Again, in the background, Lionstone saw her grandfather roll her eyes. StarClan or not, tensions evidently still existed. She had a feeling Thistletooth and Stormstep didn't get along in life, and neither did they in death. Even in StarClan, elders would be elders. She never knew Stormstep to back down, and she never knew Thistletooth to do so either.
Thistletooth hobbled away, and Lionstone watched her Stormstep shake his head. She held down a bemused purr, but her expression changed as soon as she saw the next cat. This one was young. Every leader, it was rumored, had a dead apprentice on the list. Lionstone had only one apprentice before Stagpaw, and they were not dead. No, this apprentice was not hers, but he had not been fated to live a long life. "Newtpaw," Lionstone broke her silence, "I am sorry to see you here."
"I can run as much as I like here," the weak-hearted apprentice said. He had been found dead of an evident heart attack a few weeks prior. Lionstone was saddened greatly by the loss, but not as much as his uncle, Acornstar. It had been a hard blow for the older leader. She remembered following Newtpaw out one night, seeing him train in the dark to keep up, despite his inability to go on for long. Something in her knew she'd never see him become a warrior, but he had tried so hard, so incessantly. They had sat and talked - Lionstone could remember training on her own at night, though not because of ill health.
"I'm still sorry. I wish there was something we could have done," Lionstone said to the apprentice.
"You did enough," Newtpaw replied, "You saw me that night, outside of camp and on my own. You saw me struggling, and you did what you could to help. You told me a story that I'd never forget. A secret. That my uncle found you training one night. You didn't get me in trouble - you were aware. You helped an apprentice that you didn't need to help. In fact," the little apprentice let out a chuckle, "you probably should have told on me. But you didn't. You kept an eye out even for the little apprentices wandering away. and you helped. For that, I will give you your fourth life. Vigilance. May you always be aware of the needs of other cats, and your own. May you always see danger and opportunities alike on the horizon." Lionstone bent her head, and Newtpaw stretched up. Their noses touched, and again, Lionstone felt pain, a spasming one in her heart and lungs, and a pressure on the backs of her eyes. It felt as though her heart was going to explore, and shred her lungs as it happened. Then, as Newtpaw stepped back, it was gone. Lionstone blinked slowly. Weren't some of these lives not supposed to hurt? Though to be fair, she still had five more to go, StarClan willing.
StarClan was willing. The next cat to walk forwards was a brown tabby with a white chest, and sharp, almost dog-like features. Dogthroat. He had passed to StarClan just after becoming a father. They had never been too close growing up - Dogthroat was eight moons her senior when he had died. She had been a young apprentice, and he had been just about to become a warrior, and Lionstone's more solitary ways in her early warrior days meant they hadn't spoken much in camp. However, they had gotten along. Both she and Dogthroat were ferocious defenders of WindClan, and once, on an ambushed hunting patrol, had become the backbone of resistance. Lionstone and Dogthroat stood their ground, back-to-back, while an apprentice ran for help. By the time the apprentice came back, the ambush was over - bloodied but triumphant, the duo had sent them packing.
"Lionstone," Dogthroat said, "You and I fought hard to defend WindClan. You are still a brave fighter, and I went out in a flurry of claws against the twoleg blight. You already are strong, but my gift to you, and your fifth life, is strength. Not just power in combat, but strength whenever you need it. And I know it as sure as you do, sometimes a cat like you or I needs the strength against oneself to sit back and say they need to rest for tomorrow - despite what we may want to do. May your strength never fail you."
"Thank you, Dogthroat," Lionstone managed to say before he touched her nose. Again, pain. Lionstone knew it was coming, but it hit her spine this time. Clubbing, again and again, and again, the mashing of twolegs against a cat's back. Perhaps Dogthroat's last pain, but also a welling against it. Strength to the end. He stepped away and Lionstone spoke once more. "Your kits are doing well," she could see Fallowpool sitting at the edge of the StarClan cats, and she and Dogthroat both looked thrilled. It was a shame they would never see them grow up.
"Take care of them, Lionstone," Dogthroat said, before returning to sit with his mate.
There was silence as a little, short-haired white tom walked forwards. His blue eyes were outshining some of the stars. Lionstone smiled when she saw the little deaf tom, Plumpaw. He had gotten lost and never been found, and it seemed his end had been bad. She wondered how the medicine cat apprentice, the one before Applepaw, could give her a life. He had no real powers of speech, after all. He pulled up onto his hindlegs and touched his nose to hers. The pain was not as bad as the other times. It was icy and cold, but she was distracted from it.
"Lionstone," the voice of a young tom, of an unimpeded Plumpaw, rang through her. The sound seemed to come from the touch. "You tried so hard to befriend me, though you didn't know how, and I didn't know how to befriend you. Then, I was lost to the moors, but you looked for me. You didn't give up hope. And I never gave up hope I could do all I set out to do. Your sixth life is hope. May you always find a bright spark even in the darkest of nights. There is always hope. There is always an answer to a problem. Don't let yourself be dragged down by sadness. Always have hope." Lionstone watched as Plumpaw turned and walked away, silent once more.
"Thank you, Plumpaw. I'm glad you're happy here." She doubted the apprentice could hear her, but he turned and dipped his head. Perhaps he could feel her gratitude, and the peace she got from seeing him here. Alive, no, but safe and content, yes. It was good to have closure.
Lionstone heaved a deep breath as the seventh cat walked forwards from the crowd. Lionstone tilted her head slightly - the cream-colored she-cat was one she did not recognize. She was no WindClanner, or if she was, she had gone to StarClan long before Lionstone's own time. The she-cat stopped a tail's length from Lionstone and dipped her head. "My name is Lightfur. I was of ShadowClan, before I came to StarClan. I died of the cough that ravaged us moons ago," she said. "Then, I was a nursing, ailing Queen. I had eaten so rarely I could barely feed my kits. I eventually succumbed to the cough, but you saved the life of my kits."
"I saved them?" Lionstone was unable to control her confusion as she looked out at the assembled cats, then back at Lightfur.
"You did," Lightfur said. "You found the warrior Coalheart hunting on WindClan territory after his defection to feed a dying Clan. Instead of mindlessly obeying the warrior code and driving him out, you asked your friend what he needed. And you gave him a rabbit. Before StarClan, you broke the warrior code." Panic rose up in Lionstone's chest. Being accused of breaking the warrior code by StarClan in one's naming was not how things were supposed to go. Her panic must have been evident - who could hide from StarClan? - for Lightfur spoke again. "He took the rabbit and gave it to me. I was able to nurse my kits. They live on, thanks to your kindness. Your understanding that sometimes Codes must be broken. For this, I have the great honor to give you a life. Your seventh life shall be justice. May you always be fair-minded, even in the face of rules that you could easily hide behind. May justice for all guide your actions, regardless of what Clan or creed they serve." Lightfur touched her nose to Lionstone's, and again, Lionstone felt pain. It wasn't as bad as the others, but it was there. She wondered what it would mean to only feel pain, but she decided it didn't matter. It was what it was. Lightfur pulled back and dipped her head to Lionstone once more before retreating. Lionstone felt honored that she had touched a cat of another Clan in such a way. Part of her wanted to ask the names of the kits, but she doubted Lightfur, now back among the ranks of StarClan, would answer. Lionstone could only hope Thicketstar would take care of them now.
Her yellow eyes looked over the cats before her, and as the eighth cat stepped forwards, Lionstone's heart dropped. She looked down, and her long, billowing tail drooped. "Crowfeather," she whispered, eyes dropping to her paws.
"Look up, Lionstone," the old tom said. "You knew in your heart I couldn't survive twoleg capture. Not with my breathing." His tone was gruff as Lionstone looked up the dark brown tom. Their eyes met and his demeanor softened a bit. "And before you ask, I don't know what happened to Acornstar or Applepaw. I'm sorry, Lionstone. And perhaps it makes me insufficient to grant you this life, but I am here to grant it anyways. You are young. There is no contesting that. But here you stand. And in your life, you will need to know many things, and learn many things. You will need understand. So, for your eighth life, I grant to you wisdom. May you never cease to learn and grow wise to guide those who follow you." He reached up, and touched his nose to hers. She was aware there would be pain, and part of Lionstone longed for it, to have a connection with those she had so recently lost. The pain was intense, and her vision blackened a the edges. She bit down on her tongue and drew her claws, flexing them, in order not to cry out.
"Crowfeather," Lionstone gasped. The tom, who had begun to back away, paused. "Crowfeather, if you see Acornstar or Applepaw, tell them I am so sorry. That I tried. That I will try, for their sake, for the Clan, I won't let this destroy us. Tell Acornstar I hope to make him proud."
"I will, Lionstone," Crowfeather's gruff demeanor vanished for a moment. "But I also know you will make him proud." With that, the former medicine cat joined the others in the stars.
One final life was before her now. Lionstone wondered who would step forwards. Her answer came in the form of a dark tabby tom. He was short in stature, short in hair, long, learn, and windswept. The definition of a WindClan warrior. "Why am I not surprised?" Lionstone muttered.
"Is that any way to greet one's mentor?" Falconflight asked. He was much smaller than Lionstone now, even more than when they had last met in life. "Never mind the one who will give you life nine?"
"I will sit on you," Lionstone said, eyes narrowing. Falconflight had been an awful mentor. The only good thing he'd done for her was to drill the warrior code into her. His jabs at her masculine manner, her slow speed - it had all very nearly broken her. She didn't know how much the old wounds still hurt until he was in front of her once more.
"I was not a good mentor, I admit," Falconflight said, "It took you showing me up to teach me that. I had wanted you to become the WindClan warrior legends speak of. Quick, invisible, a sudden striker and an impossible target. Instead, you are...you. Big, comparatively slow, using power where you do not have speed. A backbone of any patrol under attack. I did not realize how much I hurt you. How close I came to destroying you under insecurities. But you rose above them with honor, as Thistletooth said. But you did not do it with honor alone. You broke the rules, but not out of a sense of justice. I wanted you to run fast enough to catch me. Instead, you ran through brambles and burrs. They hurt. They hurt and hurt time and time again, like every life you have received tonight. But still, you pushed through, and you ambushed me. You pinned me down and held me there, proof of your abilities and your intellect and determination - all traits that you have as lives. They were all traits you learned by yourself that night, no thanks to me. But my pushing, inadvertently, taught you something you must remember. You are solid as stone, and so you must remember the nights you broke the rules to become stronger. Your ninth and final life shall be creativity and adaptability. You succeeded in the bush of brambles, despite it all, because you were willing to think another way. You were willing to stand on front of a Clan that does not train warriors built like you, and be proud of who you were. You did not try to fit a mold. Not all problems will fit a mold. May you always find a creative solution, may you be able to adapt, whatever comes your way. That night, as much as this one, you became the leader you are now."
Falconflight's heartfelt words left Lionstone speechless as he pressed his nose to hers. Lionstone braced herself for pain, but only felt pleasure. A warmth like no other spread through her bones, softening muscles tensed for pain, relaxing her but yet giving her energy to carry on. She felt like she could take on the world, she felt like a Lion, like one of the ancient cats. She felt powerful in that moment. Falconflight stepped back with a look in his eye he almost never had in regard to her. Pride.
"Thank you, Falconflight," Lionstone said, dipping her head. She looked up again as Falconflight spoke once more.
"You now have nine lives. You, my apprentice, are now to be called Lionstar, leader of WindClan. Guide them well, and know you have the blessing of StarClan." Falconstrike stepped back as the cats of StarClan called her name. The stars faded to black around her.
Lionstar
LIVES LIST:
- Endurance and Determination from Sheepnose, former WindClan Deputy
- Bravery from Stormstep, Lionstar's paternal grandfather and warrior/elder
- Honor from Thistletooth, WindClan warrior/elder
- Vigilance from Newtpaw, WindClan apprentice
- Strength from Dogthroat, WindClan warrior
- Hope from Plumpaw, former WindClan medicine cat apprentice
- Justice from Lightfur, ShadowClan queen
- Wisdom from Crowfeather, former WindClan medicine cat
- Creativity and Adaptability from Falconflight, Lionstar's mentor