[Deleted]

The trip to the Moon Tree had been uneventful, and though she had accompanied the medicine cats as an escort on a couple of occasions, she found that her memory of the path to the sacred cavern seemed sharper, more exact, and she took it as a sign that StarClan approved of her leadership, that they were calling her and guiding her paws. This was the right thing to do. NightClan could go on without a proper leader no longer. She would serve NightClan until her dying breath, and as leader, she would ensure their strength.

She had never actually been into the cavern before, and she followed the medicine cats in earnest as they left their escort of Hollystorm, Crowflame, Graywolf, and Gracklepaw behind. She wanted her apprentices, Blackwolf's kin and Sootfeather's, there with her. Brave, fierce she-cats whose kin had sacrificed their lives for the Clan, that deserved the honor of accompanying their new leader to get her nine lives and name. Crowflame and Graywolf had proven themselves twice over in battle against TreeClan and Gracklepaw was ready for her own name. In fact, her first act upon returning to camp, after she named her deputy, would be to raise Gracklepaw and her brothers to warriors. Foxstar's illness followed by the lack of leadership in NightClan had delayed their ceremonies for long enough.

But that was for later. She padded toward the glistening Moon Tree and laid among the roots as she was instructed, curling with her tail over her nose and closing her eyes. When it seemed as though nothing was happening, she opened them again, impatient, only to find herself transported. The Moon Tree was gone and instead glittering pine forests stretched away around her, not unlike NightClan's territory, but with starlight shining like dewdrops among the pine needles above her head. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever was about to happen as she dropped her gaze from the trees above to see starry figures emerging from around the tree trunks, converging toward her. A quick sweep of her fiery gaze and she counted nine of them, and only then did she realize she recognized several.

The first cat that stepped forth from the group had a well of emotion rising up within Darkstorm and she stepped forward to meet the tom. “Father,” her purr was rough in her throat.

"Welcome, Darkstorm, to StarClan’s forest. You have come so far and I could not be more proud of you,” Hollowcry said by way of greeting, stopping before her and looking nothing like the withered tom he had been when she had last seen him, when greencough had taken him before she even had a chance to say goodbye. “Your old life will be stripped away and you will be given nine new ones before you return to NightClan as their leader. Are you ready?”

Darkstorm nodded, never more sure of anything in her life, “I am.”

“With this life I give you greed,” the tom paused but briefly as he pressed his nose to his daughter's, amusement glittering in his gaze at the soft murmurs of surprise at his gift from some of the other gathered cats. It was unconventional to say the least, but when had Hollowcry ever cared about conventions? “May you never grow complacent, may you never be satisfied, so you will always strive to have, to achieve, to be more, for NightClan."

The life that filled her had her consumed by an intense and insatiable hunger. It was not just for prey, no, but for territory, for strong warriors to serve their Clan, for herself… to always be striving toward something better. There was no time to rest, not when there was so much she could be doing to better her Clan or better herself.

Hollowcry stepped away, “You will make NightClan strong. I know you will.”

Before she could reply another cat was stepping forward to claim his place. Darkstorm did not recognize this she-cat, her ears angled forward curiously as the stranger approached. “I am Darkflower, your father's mother and your namesake,” she introduced herself, pride shining in her eyes, “You never knew me, but I have been watching over you and your siblings since you were born.” There seemed a knowing glint in her eye as she closed the last small distance between them and touched her nose to Darkstorm's forehead, “With this life I give you patience. Your decisions will affect an entire Clan. Take heed and do not act rashly when lives are at stake.”

This life was far different from the last. Instead of an intense unquenchable burning, this life was more like a cool stream flowing over her on a hot day, cooling boiling blood, slowing racing thoughts. Darkflower nodded as she stepped away and retreated back to the group of cats yet waiting their own turns.

The next was again a cat she recognized and her tail lifted in greeting, “Sootfeather. Your kits will be warriors soon, I promise you.”

The black she-cat purred, “There's no other cat I would have chosen to mentor my Gracklepaw, my friend. I know she'll be the best warrior she can be with you as her mentor.” She pressed her nose to Darkstorm's forehead then, “With this life I share your conviction in your decisions and certainty that you are always acting in the best interests of NightClan, even when others doubt you. Not every cat will always agree with every decision you make, but always stay true to your beliefs and what you know in your heart to be right.”

Pride and pain filled her in the same moment and Darkstorm clenched her teeth against the feeling of being torn apart from the inside out. The desire to wail nearly overcame her, but she bit down on it, eyes closed tightly as she weathered the internal storm and at long last, a peace settled over her and all pain was lifted. She was left panting as her eyes squinted open, back to where Sootfeather still stood before her.

“Tell them I’m proud of them, will you? They were worth it. My sacrifice gave NightClan three strong warriors.”

Darkstorm nodded, still panting from the intense life her friend had bestowed upon her, “I'll tell them,” and Sootfeather turned to pad away, rejoining the rest.

The huge tom that stepped forth next was another stranger, and as he drew closer, Darkstorm drew back at the vague fishy scent beneath the cool, fresh StarClan scent he carried. Her ears flattened against her head as she eyed the tom suspiciously, “You're RainClan, aren't you?” Her tone was accusatory, but the tom only smiled softly.

“I w-was” he responded simply, and his slight stutter brought Darkstorm's ears forward again as he reminded her of her mother, “I a-am Gorgelight. I lo-loved your m-mother. If things h-had worked out di-differently… perhaps you w-would have been m-my daughter.” Darkstorm's ears flattened once more, even as her eyes widened in disbelief at this revelation. Gorgelight continued before she could recover from the shock to start arguing with him, “I a-am so glad Echobr-breeze found happiness and lo-love.”

He stepped forward to press his nose to her forehead then, “With th-this life, I give you tol-tolerance and un-understanding. Not every cat in your Clan will th-think or act the same w-way as you, and n-not every cat outside your Clan is your en-enemy. Listen to those with opinions di-different from yours, try to un-understand them, and remember that th-this does n-not make them any less loy-loyal to NightClan than you. Use these gifts of di-diplomacy to give your Clan peace.”

She did not have time to wonder what to expect from this life, but the strange sensation that came would hardly have been her guess. There was discomfort but no pain. There was a whirlwind in her mind, expanding feelings and thoughts she was sure she would never have herself were just at the edges of her understanding and not being able to pin them down and fully grasp them was incredibly frustrating. When the life faded away, it somehow left her wanting more. She had to understand….

Gorgelight gave her a knowing, encouraging look before he turned and padded away. Darkstorm was left feeling somewhat lost, both from the life he had given and the truth he had imparted upon her. The next cat that stepped forth was another stranger to her and she eyed the she-cat warily, half expecting a cat from another Clan claiming to be Hollowcry's first love as well.

Heronshadow purred in amusement at her guarded expression, “Relax. I am Heronshadow, mother of Echobreeze. I died giving her life,” her expression turned sad then, “I wish more than anything that I could have been there for her. But nothing made me happier than the day she found your father to love her as I was never able to, and the love and happiness she found in you and your siblings, in the family she never had when she was young.”

She stepped forward and Darkstorm lowered her head for her second grandmother to press her nose between her ears, “With this life I give you compassion. Use it to see which of your Clanmates are suffering and help them through whatever is troubling them. Some wounds cannot be seen with the eye, but only with the heart. It takes true strength to share in another’s suffering when you have the option to turn away. I know you have that strength within you.”

Warmth spread through her, pleasant, at the same time as pain began to lance through her chest. The confusing, opposing feelings only grew until she wanted to wail for it to stop, and only then did they recede, leaving behind a soft simmering warmth and a dull ache in her chest. She was left panting once more as Heronshadow dipped her head and padded away.

The black tom that strode forward next, no hint of the limp that had once wailed him in life, had the dark tortoiseshell straightening, determined not to meet her former mentor here, panting pathetically. He retained his battle scars, even now, and she wondered briefly if a cat got to choose how they appeared once they joined StarClan. If Starclan had done away with his limp they could have done away with his scars too. But somehow he would have looked… wrong without them. She couldn't call him gray muzzle anymore either, his coat was sleek and black from nose to tail.

She lifted her chin, “I'll fulfill my promise.” She had wondered if he heard it, when she had uttered it at his vigil.

“I know you will,” Blackwolf growled, and touched his nose to her ear, “Passion, ferocity, courage, loyalty, strength, confidence… these are the things a leader requires most of all, and these, you already have. With this life I give you only assurance that you already have everything you need within you, no matter what these other mousehearts might say.”

This life was a whirl of claws; her own, ripping through the flesh of enemies, wet with blood, and the tearing of her own pelt against rival claws. It was the scent of blood, the rush of battle, the satisfaction of victory, pride in scars well earned. It was what she lived for, and what Blackwolf had lived for.

She met his mismatched gaze, “I'll make you proud.”

“You already have,” he replied simply and turned back to join the others.

A gray she-cat she did not recognize padded forward then, and the first thing Darkstorm noticed about her were her claws. They seemed too big for her paws. What a fighter she must have been. Coming to a stop before her, she lifted her tail in greeting. “I'm Clawstorm. We never got to meet, but I was Blackwolf's first apprentice,” she proclaimed proudly. Despite that fact, Darkstorm couldn't help but think how young she seemed. How had she died? She couldn't remember ever hearing about the she-cat before.

Stepping closer, she pressed her nose to Darkstorm's, “Being leader will require you to work tirelessly for your clan, so with this life I give you vitality. May you have the energy and the endurance to rise to any occasion and weather any hardship for the sake of NightClan.”

What followed was what Darkstorm imagined being struck by a bolt of lightning would feel like. A nearly overwhelming pain at first, but it was gone almost as soon as it had come, and in its wake she felt a wellspring of energy rising within her until she felt as though she was going to overflow with it. Every hair on her pelt tingled and she felt as if all the trials of her previous lives had been washed away.

Clawstorm's whiskers twitched and she waved her tail in farewell as she rejoined the cats who had already given their gifts. Briarthroat stepped forth next. He looked healthy and strong in StarClan, just as she had remembered him before his disappearance. She dipped her head to him, showing perhaps a bit more respect than she had shown him in life.

“I commend you on your efforts to help keep NightClan together in such chaotic times, Darkstorm. I know you only want what is best for NightClan, so I hope you use my gift well to temper your impulses,” he reached forward to touch his nose to her head, “With this life I give you clarity, use this gift to set your emotions aside and deal with each issue that arises with calm and logic. If you allow your temper to rule you, NightClan will suffer from constant war that it cannot sustain. Think well before you act.”

In a heartbeat her vision had gone black, her rage had suddenly taken over and she could not even remember why, all she knew was that she needed to sink her claws into the nearest living creature. Suddenly a light cut through the darkness, momentarily blinding her, stunning her into inaction. The light spread and she saw, to her horror, that she stood over Thornscar, poised to take her sister's life. It shook her to her core, but a heartbeat later the vision was gone and Briarthroat again stood before her. A tremble traveled through the dark tortoiseshell's body as she tried to blink away the memory of that terrible vision.

“Without a clear mind, you will be a danger to your entire Clan,” Briarthroat warned, “Remember what you saw. Remember all you have to lose if you allow your anger to rule you. Are you strong enough to claim victory over your own emotions?”

Darkstorm’s fiery gaze narrowed at the former deputy as he issued his challenge, “For NightClan, I am strong enough to do anything.”

He met her gaze unflinchingly, “For NightClan, I hope you are right.” He then turned to take his place among the others.

Simultaneously invigorated and exhausted by all of the lives she had received thus far, Darkstorm raised her head, bracing herself for her final life, in whatever way it would come to her. They had all been so different, she had no idea what to expect. The red furred warrioress that stepped forward, however, had Darkstorm taking a disgusted step back, lip curling, “I don't think that there’s anything for you to give me that I would want, Foxstar.”

Foxstar shook her head as she paused in front of her, “I did my best, considering my circumstances, Darkstorm. I was ill for many moons.”

“If you were not up to the challenge of leading NightClan, you should have stepped down. I would have respected you more for it. Instead your weakness became NightClan's weakness,” she spat back.

Foxstar took a deep breath, “Perhaps you are right, but I was not in my right mind for those moons spent ill. Perhaps my sickness clouded my judgment. I had my flaws, Darkstorm, just as you have yours.” She swept her tail broadly behind her at the other 8 cats that had already given their gifts, “Heed the gifts these cats have given you, Darkstorm, for they are meant to make you a better cat and a better leader, to help you overcome your faults for the sake of NightClan. Now allow me to do my final duty as NightClan's former leader and give you mine.”

Darkstorm hesitated for a moment, gaze narrowed, but finally dipped her head slightly in consent, “Fine.”

Foxstar stepped forward and touched her nose lightly to Darkstorm's forehead, “With this life I give you dignity. Remember that everything you do affects NightClan and use this gift to carry and comport yourself as though your Clan's future depends upon it, for it does. Retain your composure even when your fury tries to run rampant and do not allow others to goad you into making poor choices.”

This life came with a memory. The TreeClan border. The taunting words of Blackwolf's killer. Her blinding hatred. The wrong cat beneath her claws. TreeClan's deputy. As the memory faded, Darkstorm sneered, “Why are you showing me this?”

“Your actions that day will affect NightClan and TreeClan for countless moons to come, Darkstorm. Going forward you must not allow the words of others to spur you into reckless, mindless action. I have no doubt that you will be a strong leader, but it takes more than strength to be a good leader,” Foxstar warned, but continued before Darkstorm could reply, “I now hail you by your new name, Darkstar. Your old life is no more. You have received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of NightClan. Defend it well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with wisdom and integrity.”

The cats behind her took up her new name, chants of Darkstar growing louder as more and more StarClan cats came forth from the pines to join in. She cast her gaze over the nine that had given her lives, still at the forefront, and saw Blackwolf joined by his mate, calling her name proudly beside him. She closed her eyes, let the calls wash over her. Darkstar.

When she opened her eyes once more the chanting had stopped, all the countless members of StarClan had vanished, yet Foxstar and Briarthroat still stood before her, side by side. She blinked at them in surprise, “Is there more?”

They shared a glance and Foxstar took a step forward, “When you return to NightClan, you will need to choose your deputy. You are young and strong. You will not need a successor for many, many moons, but your choice in deputy is no less important. You are fire, Darkstar, and without water to keep you from burning out of control, you will burn all of NightClan to ash.”

Darkstar's ears flattened against her head, “What do you mean? I would never do anything to harm NightClan!”

“Not on purpose,” Briarthroat agreed amicably, “Your deputy must not fear fire. They must have the wisdom and the restraint that you yet lack, but may gain with experience. As we have given you gifts with your lives to temper your flaws, so must your deputy.”

Her fiery gaze narrowed at the tom, “Are you trying to tell me who to choose, then?”

“Only what you need to look for. For the good of NightClan,” Briarthroat dipped his head while Foxstar lifted her tail in a gesture of farewell. A gentle rain began to fall then and the former leader and deputy seemed to dissipate into it. Darkstar woke suddenly, blinking in surprise to find herself back in the Moon Tree cavern.

Fawn
@poptart