Waking in Hailwatcher's old log den felt strange, especially since, for the first time ever, Nightchaser had slept completely alone. Already, he missed the warmth of the apprentice den, the feeling of Wrenpaw's fur against his own. Even as a kit, he had slept alongside Cinderblossom and Flamestrike, tucked between the two larger kits.
The dead moss pricked at his fur and he decided he would spend the day cleaning it out and replacing it with something fresher. The entire den smelled of mildew and mould, and it made his nose itch. It also still carried the scent of Hailwatcher.
The sunlight filtering into the log den was particularly bright and Nightchaser wondered if he could just sit and bathe in it. What does a truth-teller do all day anyway?
Stretching, he padded out of the den, nearly crashing into Lionmask as he did so. He jumped back, bumping his head on the inside of the log. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes, but the truth-teller regained his composure quickly.
"Good morning, Lionmask," he said.
"Nightchaser," the cream tom replied, dipping his head. "I was sent by Dawnstar to come get you. She wanted to speak with you about your duties."
"I assume they don't include bathing in the sun." Nightchaser said under his breath, already dreading his meeting with the leader. Lionmask let out the softest of purrs and flicked his ear in amusement.
The sun still hung low in the sky, halfway between the horizon and its highest point as Nightchaser followed the guardian into Dawnstar's den. The coolness within drained the heat of the sun from his fur quickly and a shiver passed through him.
"The new truth-teller of DarkClan," Dawnstar drawled as he stepped in, sitting with her tail wrapped over her paws neatly.
Nightchaser nodded, mirroring her position. "You asked to see me?" He wished to get right to the point and leave the den as quickly as he could.
"I wanted to review your duties as a truth-teller," she replied. "You are already aware that your primary duty is to watch the Clan for signs of traitors?"
He nodded once more. "And to tell stories of the past at ceremonies; to visit the kits and teach them DarkClan's ways; to select prisoners for deputy races."
"Very good," the pale tortoiseshell said. "I will remind you that you are to be accompanied by guardians at all times. There is only one of you and, should anything happen, the Clan will have lost a great asset." Her words seemed dry, but he only flicked an ear in dismissal.
"Understood. But I also wish to accompany hunting patrols so I can contribute to the Clan in other ways. I would like to watch some of the apprentices' training sessions, both to brush up on my own skills and possibly teach them more about DarkClan in the process."
Dawnstar's amber eyes narrowed, but she dipped her head in acceptance.
"Lastly, I want the entire Clan to hear stories of the past more frequently – not just the kits."
This time, she held his gaze for many heartbeats before giving her response. "On one condition: you must tell me which stories you are telling, and what lessons you intend to teach with them."
Nightchaser flicked his tail in agreement. "Is there anything else you wish to discuss?" He had already risen to his paws, eager to leave.
"No. I'll send an apprentice to clean out the moss in your den and I'll speak to Spiderthorn about putting you on a hunting patrol today." She gave him a pointed look. "You are dismissed."
The black tom emerged into the sunlight feeling much lighter, an almost gleeful feeling bubbling up inside him at how easily Dawnstar had agreed to his changes – if they were changes at all. Did Hailwatcher ever do any of those things when he was younger? Perhaps he would never know.
A sudden shriek from the nursery stopped him in his tracks. Beside him, Lionmask tensed before pelting towards the den, Nightchaser right behind him. A black blur passed on his other side, throwing itself into the nursery just as the shriek rose to its loudest.
Nightchaser stepped into the den to see a ball of black and white fur rolling across the floor. Cinderblossom and Cherrypool sat in the nursery's depths, the former's tail wrapped protectively around Webkit and Crowkit. Their eyes were wide with fear, focussed not on the battling cats but on four bundles near Nightchaser's paws.
The smell of blood suddenly rose to the tom's nose and he looked down to see a pale tortoiseshell pelt speckled with red, the cries losing their strength. Her sides moved erratically as the kit struggled to breathe.
"How dare you try and kill my kits!" Spiderthorn's voice filled the nursery. Nightchaser looked up to see the deputy standing over Snowdapple, her white and brown speckled pelt now also covered with red.
The truth-teller knew what would happen next, regardless of what he tried to do to stop it. Glancing between the caretaker and the kit at his paws, he swallowed, knowing he couldn't save every life.
Yet, something held him back: a sense of foreboding as he gazed down at the cream and blue tortoiseshell at his paws. When he closed his eyes, the only thing he saw were cold amber eyes, the same pale fur framing them.
But this kit was not guilty. She had not done anything wrong.
Carefully, he picked up the tortoiseshell kit, hoping he was making the right decision.
//
Cedarheart took matters into his paws quickly, sending Mothpaw running back and forth between the medicine storage and small moss nest that now cradled Lightkit. Nightchaser refused to leave the den now that he had made his choice, intent on seeing it through.
Slowly, Lightkit's breathing returned to normal, and then turned to long, deep breaths as she fell asleep. The tension in the den remained high, even though the kit was no longer in danger of dying.
"I'll go tell Dawnstar," Cedarheart said, ducking out the den. Nightchaser watched Mothpaw gaze after him with fear in her eyes.
"You're afraid you'll be left to do this alone soon," he said quietly.
She refused to meet his gaze and he could see her shaking. "Fear is not allowed in DarkClan."
Confusion filled Nightchaser at her words, before the thought that he was now the truth-teller hit him. Slightly hurt that the healer's apprentice would believe him to turn her in now that he was the sole truth-teller, he padded over to her and pressed his nose to her shoulder.
"You don't need to worry about that."
This time, she did meet his eyes. "You think so?"
He nodded, attempting to reassure her. "I wouldn't turn you in."
Something like relief lit up her face before shifting into concern. "I was afraid you would say that. Nightchaser, you must be careful. Cedarheart and I have kept our distance from you to avoid attracting attention, but now it is you who must distance yourself from those you want to keep safe. Dawnstar will be watching you now more than ever and we both know you don't believe in DarkClan's ways. I think she knows too, but is just waiting for the evidence so she can turn the Clan against you."
Nightchaser heard the truth in her words. "I don't think she'll be needing evidence. Sootstar... Well, StarClan... They're being held hostage by Heatherfur and the only way they will be set free is if I turn myself in."
Mothpaw's surprised blink made him realize just how crazy he sounded.
"Heatherfur, she made it to a dark forest where the stars never shine, just across the river from StarClan's hunting grounds," he elaborated. "And she and the rest of DarkClan's dead managed to find a way into StarClan and defeat them, and the only way they can be set free is if I – "
"Turn yourself in, I know," Mothpaw said, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"Wait, you believe me?" Nightchaser asked.
"I believed you about StarClan," she replied. "We healers have to believe in something if we don't want to lose our minds in this world."
The black tom nodded, seeing her point. "But what happens when there is no StarClan?"
Mothpaw hesitated. "We fight for them. We find others who believe in them and we fight those who believe in Heatherfur."
"That's all of DarkClan, Mothpaw," Nightchaser reminded her gently, feeling the hope drain from him. Yesterday, seeing that one star against the otherwise dark sky had made him want to believe that all was not lost. Now, he didn't know what to think.
"There are others who believe," Mothpaw assured him. "We just need to watch and wait."
"We only have until the end of newleaf before StarClan disappears forever," Nightchaser replied.
The grey she-cat's face took on a determined look, not unlike the one Nightchaser had seen on Wrenpaw's, her littermate's, face many times.
"We start now and believe in the powers of faith, goodness, and love. Ambition, strength, and intelligence will only get us so far."
//
A rather distracted Spiderthorn collected Nightchaser from the truth-teller's den around sunhigh, where the younger tom had been resting on fresh moss. The lingering scent of Wrenpaw in the greenery told him she had volunteered her time to change it out and he felt a pleasant warmth spread through him at the thought.
"Dawnstar said I should assign you to a hunting patrol," Spiderthorn said. "You'll be heading out with Swallowstorm, Sprucetail, Goosepelt and Smoketalon."
Nightchaser thanked the deputy with a nod. "Lightkit is resting in the healer's den if you would like to go see her," he said as he passed the nearly identical tom.
He felt Spiderthorn stiffen. "Perhaps it would be best if I didn't."
The truth-teller shrugged. "Just a suggestion. Seeing a kit in need is not a form of weakness. After all, if you had not run to the nursery when she cried out she would be dead."
The bluntness of his words seemed to stun the deputy, but Nightchaser did not have the time, nor the patience, to deal with the stubborn tom. The hunting patrol was already waiting by the entrance of the camp and, by the look of Smoketalon's irritated face, he was holding them up.
"I see you've finally decided to join us," Smoketalon sneered as Nightchaser approached.
Before the truth-teller had a chance to react to the tom's snark, Goosepelt stepped in. "Mind your tongue. You may be a guardian, but the truth-teller's, like the leader's, word is law. If the truth-teller had something to say to the deputy before leaving for this patrol, then he had every right to keep us waiting."
Smoketalon looked murderous but did not say anything more as the patrol moved off.
"I will hunt with Smoketalon," Sprucetail offered as they reached the moors. "Goosepelt, Swallowstorm, stick with Nightchaser and make sure he does not get hurt."
"If he can't protect himself from rabbits then what's the point of keeping him alive," Smoketalon snarled under his breath, earning him a sharp swat across the ear by Goosepelt. The older guardian seemed tired of the younger tom already. Sprucetail gave Nightchaser a pointed look as she and Smoketalon departed, as if saying the truth-teller owed her. He decided he would speak with her later.
"Let's see if we can find anything by the Tall Rock," Swallowstorm decided. "There's a whole bunch of burrows there and we might get lucky."
Falling into step behind the two older warriors, Nightchaser realized they were taking the same route he had taken many times in his dreams. When they arrived at what Swallowstorm called the Tall Rock, he nearly purred in amusement.
"MoorClan's old camp?" Both Goosepelt and Swallowstorm turned to him in shock.
Nightchaser felt his whiskers droop in disbelief. "You didn't know?"
The two shook their heads.
"I guess it doesn't really matter, now that MoorClan no longer exists," Goosepelt said quietly.
"But it's still nice to know," Swallowstorm assured the younger tom. Nightchaser blinked his thanks at her.
"I wonder how this camp worked?" Goosepelt said suddenly, leaping atop the Tall Rock. The spring in his step made him seem at least two season cycles younger, and his whiskers quivered with curiosity like a kit's.
"That's where the leader addressed the Clan from," Nightchaser told him, excited by the prospect of teaching others about the Old Life. "These burrows were the dens. MoorClan slept underground, in a maze of tunnels that led to different dens and storages."
"What happened when it rained?" Swallowstorm asked. "Wouldn't the tunnels flood?"
Nightchaser's tail drooped. "I... I don't know. Hailwatcher never told me."
"Perhaps that knowledge has been lost," the she-cat sighed. "Like much of DarkClan's knowledge has."
"What do you mean?" the black tom asked, curious by her sudden sadness.
The black and white she-cat glanced first at Nightchaser, then at Goosepelt, then back to the truth-teller, as if deciding whether or not she should say anything at all.
"I trust you," she said, looking at Nightchaser. "And I trust you to protect me should he try to turn me in." She nodded towards Goosepelt. The guardian drew a breath at her words, but Nightchaser nodded his head in agreement.
"DarkClan is so focussed on being ambitious and strong that, often, they forget that intelligence comes in many forms. It can be resourcefulness, it can be strategy; but, it can also be knowledge of the past – all of it, not just the past that benefits DarkClan's views - and using it to shape the future.
"What you said yesterday, when you returned from your ceremony, about the entire Clan knowing their history... I want to know it. It may sound treasonous, but I want to know more about the Old Life, I want to know more about StarClan."
Nightchaser felt himself brightening with every word Swallowstorm spoke. He remembered telling her about StarClan, but to think that she-cat wanted to believe so strongly made Heatherfur's ultimatum seem that much less frightening.
"There's one more thing I want to know," Swallowstorm continued hesitantly, glancing once again at Goosepelt. The guardian's fur was not quite flat, but he appeared intrigued by the warrior's desires.
She swallowed. "I want to know my family. I want to know not only my kits, I want to know my mother, my father. My mother's parents and my father's parents if they're still alive."
Nightchaser felt the lump in his throat as he realized that he, too, wanted to know these things.
Both the truth-teller and warrior jumped when Goosepelt leaped down from the rock, landing between them. Nightchaser's claws slid out of their sheathes, ready to take on the guardian should he attack them for speaking so blatantly of everything DarkClan forbade.
But the guardian did no such thing. Instead, he rubbed his head against Swallowstorm's, purring.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted that," he said.
The she-cat blinked in disbelief. "You... You're not going to turn me in?"
Nightchaser though he could feel Goosepelt's purrs vibrating through the ground. "Why would I turn in my own daughter?"
Watching father and daughter reunite, Nightchaser felt a pang deep in his chest. The unresolved question of who his mother was returned to his mind, but he pushed it aside once more. There were more pressing matters.
He cleared his throat. "DarkClan won't change so quickly, nor will they accept StarClan and the Old Life. Especially when StarClan no longer exists."
Swallowstorm gave him a questioning look. "StarClan no longer exists?"
The truth-teller hesitated. "They do, I just haven't been able to get in touch with them." He wasn't sure he wanted to tell the two older cats the whole story, especially since Goosepelt had just emerged from behind the mask he usually wore.
"Isn't is obvious?" To Nightchaser's surprise, it was the guardian who spoke.
"Obvious?" The black tom echoed.
Goosepelt nodded. "Go to Deathwaters."
Nightchaser blinked. Perhaps there were others within the Clan he could learn from.
A/N: If you remember, Goosepelt was one of the cats sick with greencough back in chapter 15 and, upon finding out Swallowstorm was to mate with Sleetfur again, was rather curious about her well-being... And now we know why! These darned masks are just so hard to look past, aren't they Nightchaser?
On another note, Ryleerk101 has posted some fan art for Unmasked and you should all check it out!
Also, ALMOST 4K READS, 1K COMMENTS AND OVER 600 VOTES?! Thank you, thank you, thank you!