Silverwing's Story: The Prophecy Begins

Prologue

Grayclaw sat quietly along the lake. The water licked his tail, leaving it soaked. He sighed. I'm getting older, He thought sadly. I'm going to join StarClan one of these moons. If only you were still with me...

Moons ago, Grayclaw had thought it was alright to have a mate in a different clan. After all, his ancestor, Graystripe, had taken a mate from Riverclan. Grayclaw sighed. He missed his mate, Brackenfrost, a Windclan cat.

Especially now, when Thunderclan was facing an outbreak of greencough. Too many of his faithful Clanmates were suffering the tragedies of the sickness, including the ones they'd lost. The guilt bubbling deep inside of him grew with each passing day, and nothing seemed to calm his uncomfortable feelings. My share of prey should be given to the sick, not me...

Grayclaw didn't know how long he'd sat there, but "soon" he found himself gazing up at Silverpelt, looking for answers. Fortunately, after wishing for several moons now, he got one on this fateful night.

He sighed and lowered his head as his gray ears drooped. He pulled his soaked tail closer to him, out of reach from the splashing waves of the sparkling lake that stretched out before him. The water was as cold as ice, even though leaf-bare was only just beginning. All he wanted to do was lie down and let the freezing waves engulf him, and pull him into the lake so he would no longer have to live with his past mistakes and the haunting thoughts that lurked in his memory.

It wasn't until now he realized the lake water was rippling differently, as if something was swimming in it, causing the tiny ripples to expand throughout the water. He lifted his head and looked at a peculiar glow that swam toward him. It took him a few heartbeats to realize the glow was the outline of a cat.

Grayclaw's eyes narrowed as he got to his paws. He didn't recognize this cat even a little. "Who are you?" he called out, his drenched tail lashing once.

As the cat swam closer, he realized something small was squirming in the she-cat's mouth. A kit. Grayclaw retreated a few tail-lengths as the glowing she-cat reached land. Strangely, however, when she left the star-reflected water of the lake, her pelt was perfectly dry. Only now did Grayclaw notice the stars that speckled her silver stripes along her pelt.

"You're from StarClan," he guessed, relaxing, for he knew this cat wasn't a threat if she was one of their ancestors. The she-cat dipped her head, careful not to disturb the kit that was resting peacefully in her jaws.

"Who are you?" Grayclaw asked once again, his eyes wide with wonder. Finally receiving an emotion, the spirit smiled and gently placed the kit on the wet shore. When she lifted her head again, her eyes a dazzling blue, she finally spoke in a sweet, smooth voice.

"You may not have heard of me, but I'm known as Silverstream."

Grayclaw didn't need to hear anymore. He knew exactly who this spirit was. One of the few names remembered from the past that was whispered between elders for generations, or so they say. Grayclaw, for one, couldn't forget the beautiful she-cat that had stolen his ancestor's heart. "You... They didn't lie... You really are one of the prettiest she-cats I've ever seen."

Silverstream smiled softly. "Thanks for being so flattering. But, I'm afraid I came here to do more than simply speak with you," at those words, she glanced at the empty area beside her, and almost immediately, a long-furred tom appeared out of thin-air. Grayclaw would've surely fainted if he wasn't so old.

"You must be Graystripe," he greeted with a wide smile, dipping his head. "I hope you're here to take me to StarClan."

Graystripe's eyes glistened with a saddened amusement. "I'm sorry, but that's far from what we've come here to do," he whispered. "You still have to bring something to your Clan."