Warriors: Nightstar's End (COMPLETED)

Chapter Seven

Emberburn opened his eyes and found himself in a dark, fog-covered forest. He rose to his paws warily, suddenly aware of how vulnerable he was out in the open. This is weird, he thought, looking around in confusion. I don't remember falling asleep. Looking at his fur, he realized he wasn't injured. No blood stained his pelt and no wounds made him grit his teeth. "Where am I?" He called out, scanning the endless rows of dead trees and bushes.

"The Dark Forest," replied a calm, rattling voice. Emberburn nearly leaped out of his skin as he recognized the voice. His eyes narrowed into slits as a shape slid from the shadows. Blood slid off her black fur, staining the ground dark red. Her paws crackled against the dead grass as she neared. Her amber eyes glowed like stars in the black sky of Silverpelt. "Welcome, Emberburn."

"Nightstar," he spat her name like bile. The bitterness of his mother's treachery came in harsh waves, lapping at his belly before filling him. There was a tenderness in her amber gaze, and it made him falter. "Nightstar." This time, there was no scorn or contempt in his voice. Only a small sliver of relief and overwhelming grief crept into his mew as he watched his mother weave towards him.

"Emberburn," Nightstar purred. It soothed him, oddly enough. His legs began to shake and he trembled as she got closer. This was his mother. Alive and breathing. But how? She's dead. He started to feel dizzy and he staggered. The dark leader lunged forward and instead of going for a killing bite to his throat, she supported his weight on her shoulder and guided him like a kit to a short dead tree. "Easy, little warrior," she meowed, her voice soft like a cloud. "Don't crush me."

Emberburn was astonished by how much muscle rippled underneath her thin, scarred black pelt. How many nights has she spent growing stronger? There's no prey down here. At least, none that I can scent. Leaning against the dead oak, he stared at his mother, baffled. Her features were just as he remembered when she'd died no more than four moons prior. The scar on her lips quirked up as she smirked and he felt his heart crack. You could've lived! He wanted to yowl. You could've been a better leader!

Nightstar sat beside him, her ears only reaching his shoulder as she stared silently ahead, seeming lost in her thoughts. Emberburn gawked at how small she was. Was she that small when we attacked her? A pit of anger formed in his belly but he buried it. How could I not notice? She's not even a full-grown warrior and yet she died. Now, she'll never grow. "Stop looking at me like that," she meowed, her voice crackling with emotion. "Haven't you ever seen a smaller warrior?"

"Not one like you," Emberburn whispered, still in shock. He could feel her fur brushing against his, ever so lightly that it was almost not there. "Why?" He murmured, catching her attention. "Why are you so small?"

Nightstar let out a hearty laugh. Emberburn blinked, surprised. "I was made a warrior before I reached six moons old." She explained. "My mentor made me kill a kittypet in order to earn my name."

Emberburn stared at his mother. "What was it?" He asked. When she looked at him in confusion, he quickly added. "Your warrior name. What was it?"

Nightstar's eyes clouded with memory and Emberburn let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding in. "Nightshrike," she breathed and let out a dry laugh. Shaking her head, she added. "StarClan knows why Applestar named me that." Tilting her head back, she gazed into his eyes. "How are you, Emberburn? You look like you just saw a ghost."

Emberburn blinked down at her for a few moments before recovering. "I-I'm just in shock, that's all." He mumbled, staring at his paws in embarrassment.

"Shocked that I'm here or that you're talking to me?" Nightstar mused.

"Both," he answered honestly. "I thought I'd never get to see you again." Nightstar chuckled and he looked at her. "I'm being honest! It's just, I never thought I'd be talking to you one-on-one like this."