The Dawn of Night | A Warriors Fanfiction ✔

Chapter 35

Darkspot tore off a clump of juniper berries from its bush, placing them into a leaf wrap. Rolling it together, he headed back toward camp, the wind ruffling his fur the wrong way. He glanced up at the sky; a half-moon shone through the hazy sky.

The medicine cat pushed through the bramble tunnel and into his den, dropping the berries on a pile. He heard a sickening rattling noise and the hair on his neck stood on end.

Windpelt stood just outside his den. That had been her breathing. Ears pricked, he lashed his tail in worry.

"Come here," he demanded. "Let me look you over."

The elder looked startled, curling her tail over her back. "I'm fine," she rasped.

"I don't know that yet. I insist, unless you want to join StarClan," Darkspot growled.

Windpelt's eyes became round. "Alright," she agreed, pushing into the den.

Darkspot looked into her runny eyes; crusty discharge circled them. She let out a cough.

The medicine cat's blood ran cold. "Interesting," he mewed, excusing himself from looking so frightened.

"What is it?" the she-cat snapped. "Is it bad?"

"I don't know," he lied, picking up some coltsfoot. "Here, eat this. I need to leave for the half-moon Gathering."

Windpelt dipped her head to lap up the yellow, leafy flowers. "Very well," she rumbled.

Marshland wet his paws as he passed RiverClan territory. Two cats - one calico and the other an old, grey and white tom, neared him.

"Hello, Hickorywing," Darkspot nodded his head to the she-cat. "Hello, Rushingface."

"Beautiful night," the tom nodded in agreement. "Hurry up before we waste any moonlight, however."

The young she-cat blinked. "It is odd not having Emberfur with you," she admitted softly. "The past two half-moon Gatherings have seemed strangely quiet."

"I agree," Darkspot nodded as they neared ShadowClan territory. A figure stood there; she had been waiting for them.

"Good to see you, Brokenleaf."

The other calico she-cat dipped her head very slightly in acknowledgement. "And you."

At last, after crossing the Thunderpath, two cats joined them. One was a sleek she-cat named Scorchpool and beside her was a young apprentice.

"This is my apprentice," she announced proudly. "His name is Catchpaw."

"Nice to meet you," the grey tabby dipped his head in a mumble.

As they reached Mothermouth, the cats were soon swallowed with darkness; the musty air blocked out Darkspot's sight as he inched toward the cavern where the moonstone was.

Suddenly light flooded the room. Blinking in the bright light that dripped from the roof above, he found a spot beside Rushingface and pressed his muzzle to it, falling into a deep, deep sleep.

The medicine cat found himself in the cavern again, his heart pounding as he wondered if he was asleep. A sweet, herb-tinted scent filled the air and he spun around.

"Emberfur!"

The tortoiseshell she-cat blinked gently. "Good to see you," she nodded.

"Am I asleep?" he asked timidly.

"Yes, this is a dream," his former mentor agreed. "Now follow me. There is something I must show you, and it will take awhile to get there."

Darkspot's tail twitched and he stepped over the sleeping bodies of his fellow medicine cats. He knew he could not wake them in a dream, but he still had the stabbing worry he would awaken if he did. He felt his paws were as light as air as he passed through the tunnel, feeling as if he was rising into the sky. Then he noticed that indeed he was; everything seemed to become the size of mice as he ran through the stars with Emberfur beside him.

"This is incredible," he breathed. He found that running had not taken his breath away. "Is this what it's like being in StarClan?"

"Sometimes," the she-cat laughed. "Quickly now."

They flew over Highstones in a heartbeat, crossing the grassy moors of WindClan as the scent of sleepy rabbit-hunters filled his nose. The wind whipped his ears and whiskers back, but his paws felt no resistance; light as a cloud, he was tearing across the sky.

Scents of the Thunderpath drifted toward him, but he was far too high up to care; soon they were passing RiverClan and slowed down as they reached Treecutplace.

He felt himself falling, but slowly and gently. His paws tingled as they touched fresh grass rarely trod by cats. They leaped delicately over to the edge of Tallpines and entered Twolegplace.

"Why are we here?" Darkspot asked.

But Emberfur said nothing. She led him over a fence; they were not too far from camp. A clump of particularly sweet-smelling herb grew near one of its corners, but he couldn't place what herb it was.

"What is it?"

Again she remained silent, only blinking at him knowingly.

*   *   *

What was that herb? Darkspot repeated countless times in his head. He sniffed every herb in his inventory to see if it could spark a memory, but to no avail.

"Darkspot?"

The sound of his name startled him. Scartooth flattened his ears.

"Is this a bad time?" he queried awkwardly. "I just came to tell you I got a thorn in my pad."

"What? No." The medicine cat padded over, his own paws aching from the trek back from Highstones. "Let me see."

Scartooth picked up a hindpaw. "Here," he meowed. "Right in the middle. See it?"

Darkspot nodded, beginning to rhythmically lick the sore pad. After a few moments he took it in his teeth, pulling it out. Scartooth winced.

"No worries," Darkspot purred. "It's out now. Let me get some marigold so it won't get infected."

"Thanks, Darkspot," the warrior told his brother. He paused a moment. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"I had a dream," Darkspot meowed hastily, digging his nose into his stores. "Nothing important for now."

"Are you going to tell Stormstar?"

The darker cat began to lick the herb into Scartooth's paw. "Yes, once I interpret it. Tell no one."

Scartooth narrowed his eyes. "Very well," he shrugged.

"There." Darkspot stepped back from him. "You're done. How's Duskfeather? I haven't seen her all day."

"She's out patrolling with Willowtuft, Patchwing, and Drizzlepaw," the warrior explained. "I'm going to go hunting."

Darkspot watched his littermate go, blood roaring in his ears.