Chapter Text
The Dark Forest. A place no cat dared to step paw in, lest they’re doomed to wander the place forever.
The place was dark, shadows creeping closer as if drawn to the spirits that reside there, stretching out as if in prayer of freedom.
No prey scurried across the ground, the terrain flat and leaving little to imagination. Shrubs and plants that were in the Clans’ territory were nothing more than a memory here, a pang of regret dragging at the dark brown tabby’s paws, the already present limp even more pronounced.
Scars littered the tom’s ghostly form, his ears angled to listen in on some distant conversation. He absently continued on, his endless wander never ceasing. He was content this way, even if his heart pleaded otherwise. Occasionally, he became curious about the effects of the water. The Dark Forest liquid that lapped repetitively against the shore, beckoning him closer.
Whenever he had these thoughts, his mind seemed far away, a white cat’s screech forcing him to carry on. In the end, he never touched it. Instead, he continued walking, his head hung low and spirit fading.
The Place of No Stars was a terrifying location to cats who weren’t used to it. By now, this brown tom could traverse the land with ease, another’s laugh always being the one to put him on edge, fur spiking.
He didn’t know if it was out of anger or fear with the way he reacted to the unseen voices. It always seemed so far away, but even so, he changed his path to head in the opposite direction every time. When the forest changed, he was prepared for the sudden transportation. The scent of pine faded to salt and wrinkling his nose, the tom knew he was in the Wetlands.
Except… unlike all the other times the forest faded in and out of existence, he wasn’t alone. The Place of No Stars still existed, yes, but it was fully under one cat’s control.
Crouching down, the tom knew immediately who had sent him here and why. He wasn’t alone. The other spirits’ confusion made him smile. A pride in the knowledge he had kept him grounded. The cats he was with didn’t recognize him and he, them, in turn. The countless scars and wounds that covered each and every cat’s body made the brown tom blend in seamlessly. No cat spared him a glance except one.
Looking around, the tom felt a kinship with these helpless souls. They were under His control as much as him. Bristling with fury, he wondered what would have been if the living Clans knew. They should know. Especially now.
“Everything that happens to them is their own fault,” the tom muttered under his breath.
“You could say that again,” an unexpected reply made the tom spin around to come face-to-face with a ragged tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat. Upon seeing his expression, the she-cat licked her lips, lazily stretching out her paws, sinking them into the ground.
The tom knew it was a warning. It often was. He knew not all cats deserved to be in such a heartless place, but those who did weren’t afraid to use it to their advantage. He recognized this cat. He hadn’t realized earlier when they’d met–everything was happening too fast–but this she-cat had participated in the Great Battle. She had helped slaughter living Clan cats in the hopes of destroying them. Thankfully, the dark warriors had failed.
“That is, if you’re talking about the living Clans,” the she-cat continued, eyes narrowing to slits. She must recognize him too, he thought.
Do I still love my Clan? the tom wondered. He wanted to say yes, but a deep ache in his heart and the constant chill of his surroundings made him reconsider. If he did, would it even matter? He was dead to them. His Clan was probably celebrating.
He felt too numb to register what he did, but the she-cat smiled at him anyway. “They deserve all that happens to them. Casting us out for only doing what we thought was best. Not even giving us time to plead our case.” She pulled back her lips in a snarl. “They’ll get what’s coming to them.”
The tom nodded, his non-existent heart now pounding against his ribcage in a desperate plea.
A yowl grabbed his attention.
Every spirit fixated on their glowing pelt, now mucky with the Dark Forest’s atmosphere. Like a star, he twinkled far brighter than any of the dark warriors he faced. The last star in a sky full of darkness.
“Everyone!” The StarClan warrior yowled, his words carried across the crowd. Eager eyes and ears all pointed towards all of the dark spirits’ last hope, the StarClan cat who had promised them nothing in exchange for everything. He smiled at their ignorance.
Trees surrounded the cracked earth, hotspots for spirits unafraid to fight for each branch. The tom caught sight of the she-cat jumping to the top of one of the trees, not a single cat daring to challenge her.
Ashfur doesn’t have as much control as he wants, the tom knew. The spirits were growing restless. For all of the StarClan warrior’s talk, he had full control of the afterlife but little control of the residents within. He needed the dark warriors for something, that much was clear. But if they turned on him, he’d have nothing. The last star in the darkest night, dying. A fitting end for a fading belief.
“I know how you all have been patiently waiting for the Clans to become weak…” Ashfur began, the cruel cat’s warning seemingly causing the trees to wither and bend.
He’s reminding us who’s in control, the tom thought, nervously shifting his weight as the cats around him grew restless.
“We are almost there!” Ashfur shouted, malice gleaming in his eyes. “Almost at the end!”
“Of course,” another cat meowed back, leaping from branch to branch to the raised platform where Ashfur sat. The trees sagged with her weight, cats hurrying to let her pass. Ashfur’s expression turned grim, his claws digging into the rocks beneath him.
“For moons we have waited,” the she-cat continued… the same one that spoke to him earlier. “For moons we have obeyed.”
It wasn’t until she stood directly beside Ashfur when every cat began to notice the difference between them.
Where Ashfur’s fur was sparkling silver, the she-cat’s was dark and faded. Even right next to him, she didn’t seem fully there, as though she were nothing but a wisp on the wind, a forgotten memory, to be fully carried away once the forest forgets her name.
“But for what? When are we going to attack, Ashfur? When will we get the vengeance you promised us?” The she-cat thrust her muzzle close to his ear, snarling. “How much longer will we be contained here? You promised us vengeance! When will we receive? Well?”
Before Ashfur could muster up an excuse, the she-cat turned towards the crowd, her stone-cold eyes as hard as the stone she stood on. “We will wait no longer! We will get our vengeance one way or another. If you won’t lead us there, Ashfur, we are more than willing to start with you. The last star in StarClan. Pity.”
Various cats hissed and cheered. The tom stayed in the back, warily watching them approach the bright warrior.
“No! Wait! I have a plan!”
“Well? Speak, you useless lump of fur! What do you have in mind to save yourself from this?” The she-cat motioned with her tail to the eager crowd, their snarls and shouts more pronounced than before.
The tom saw the StarClan warrior gulp, his fear evident for all to see. The trees continued to lean towards him, reaching for the only source of light they can, bending and twisting like vicious snakes.
“The next Gathering,” Ashfur uttered. “Then you will attack. There’s already lots of mistrust within the Clans…” As he spoke, the warrior seemed more and more confident, meeting the she-cat’s gaze with cold eyes. “We already have some cats working from within,” he said, laughing. “The ShadowClan leader and ThunderClan rebel don’t have far to go. I already have everything in place. You know the plan.”
The she-cat pulled her lips back in a soundless snarl. Neither cat moved, staring at each other, one with uncertainty and the other with hate.
“I know the plan,” the she-cat scoffed. “You’ve told me before. It’s not leadership I want,”
“But you’ll see them again!” Ashfur prompted, smile widening. The she-cat froze, her anger evaporating. The tom couldn’t see her face, the she-cat’s back was to him. He thought about moving, but upon a single look at his companions, decided better of it. I shouldn’t be a coward, he thought. He used to be powerful! A cat that others obeyed, the one they feared. Quietly, he stalked forward, weaving between a heavily scarred tom and a ginger she-cat to have a better view of Ashfur.
The StarClan warrior looked smug, staring out into the crowd with a look of glee. “You’ll all see them again. But within your control! Your grasp! Wouldn’t it feel wonderful being able to determine if they deserved to be in the stars or not? To get revenge on the cats who’ve wronged you?”
The Dark Forest warriors exchanged looks. It became clear to the tom that not all of the cats wanted vengeance. His ‘heart’ fluttered.
“The next Gathering, under the full moon.” The she-cat leaned back, freeing Ashfur from her towering presence. “We’ll be waiting.”
When the she-cat leapt off, the Dark Forest cats started mumbling to one another, excitement and worry uttered in low volume.
“What about those of us who don’t want to hurt the Clans?” A large brown tom whispered to his friend. “Can we betray him?”
“Too many cats are on his side. And it’s worth it,” his friend argued. “Be careful.”
Not every cat is against the Clans, the tom looked around, hoping for more looks of confusion and panic.
He saw none.
“You,” The tom startled, his ears laid flat as he stared at the she-cat from before who spoke. “are you going to join us?”
The tom frowned, wondering vaguely why she had returned to him. They had fought before. She had tried to hurt cats he cared about…
He didn't know. Truthfully, he didn't know if he wanted to. Did he want to hurt the Clans? Would he?
Yes, a tiny part of him whispered, they deserve it. Before he even meant to, he found himself speaking. The she-cat seemed pleased with his answer. “You aren’t the same cat you once were,” she meowed. “Do you hate them for throwing you out?” Yes. “Do you resent her for leaving you behind?” Yes. “Are you certain of your place?” Yes. The tom dug his claws into the ground, the heat of his anger making the soft soil feel like nothing.
“Then who are you?”
The tom stared at her, perplexed. Who was he? He was a warrior. He was a traitor. He was loved. He was hated. He was…
I’m not him anymore, he thought, familiar words spoken to him coming forth. The same message from two different cats. Two different stories. I’m not him.
He was broken, angry, resentful. He regretted nothing of his past because he did nothing wrong. I’m not afraid.
The she-cat waited patiently, staring at him. Still, he felt an ache in his heart like never before. A voice he longed to hear. A mentor he both loathed and loved.
A new name. A new identity. If he was bound to be evil, then why did he even bother fighting back? Why argue with Firestar about his name when he was perfectly right from the beginning? He scowled. Firestar had known all along. The stars were punishing him for only doing what he thought was best. If his destiny all along had been to become a Dark Forest warrior, who was he to pretend otherwise?
“Br–”
He paused. His heart ached for the cat he once was. The cat that had died. No, he thought. He remembered his mentor. He remembered his father. I’m not them. He wasn’t the center of his Clan. He wasn’t the one they relied on, the one they went to when they had problems. That was taken from me… Meanwhile, a frost seemed to have settled within him. The legacy he was given was a wound that won’t heal. Even if he returned, even if he told them what had happened… The damage was already done. The injury inflicted was permanent.
“Scarredheart,” the tom meowed. It felt right. It felt cruel. It felt justified. A part of him hurt to say it. “To remind them what they’ve done to me.” What he’s done. What she believed… what I’ve failed.
The she-cat hummed in contemplation. She didn’t seem overly excited about his name change, but something in her eyes brightened.
“Scarredheart,” she purred, a strained smile on her face “There’s something I want you to do for me, if you’re able to, of course… a mission.”
Scarredheart listened, his ghostly pelt feeling more solid than ever because of the meeting. By the time his task became clear, he felt his fur prickling with excitement at finally being able to do something. Ever since he had first been resigned to his fate, he had thought that he had nothing to do but wait to fade. Now, this she-cat had given him something to look forward to.
Scarredheart turned his head, looking up at the trees that blocked his line of sight from the stars, forever invisible.
Soon, Scarredheart thought. The leaves of the trees were only mocking what the forest should have been like, increasing his anger. Soon, every cat will pay.