[Abyss]

[googlefont="Nunito"]

He felt his heart beating harshly against his chest, his stomach turning in his torso. He thought that he had calmed his nerves, that he had assured himself that things would be ok, that this would go well. He had three days to do it. He thought that was enough time. Yet when he stood at the camp entrance, the moon in the sky overhead, he felt so tense. And this feeling continued as the group of four departed.

The trip to the new sacred place, a cavern of crystals from what he was told, was silent. Having Sageheart leading the way and Brackenstride and Orioleflight at his sides did bring him some comfort. But even still, it wasn’t enough to completely distinguish his worries that only grew with the silence.

As they arrived, he knew he had to go alone. No one had told him he had to, but something inside told him that this was how it was meant to be. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and padded forward, the stone beneath cooling his large paws. He found himself in darkness. He tried to focus his mind on navigating his way forward, giving himself a distraction from the unease that settled in his stomach. He felt his way along the cool walls, his paws carrying him further and further into the unknown. As he walked he could hear faint whispers calling to him from further into the tunnel, where a very dim light was slowly beginning to shine.

He came around a corner, stopping in his tracks. The cavern before him shimmered in pale light, shimmering clusters of varying pastel-colored crystals jutting from every surface. A deep feeling swirled through him as he slowly walked forward, his eye looking all around him at all of the shining stones, their unique shapes, their colors, their patterns. This place, not only did it feel as though the collective power of generations of clans could be found here, but it was also one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. As he walked, he stepped over and through different clusters, finding a small spot relatively bare and surrounded by faintly blue gems. Folding his legs beneath him, Whitehawk lowered himself to the ground, at first just laying there and taking in the beauty of the cave. But, even without trying, he could feel the pull of drowsiness tugging at him the moment relaxation found its way through his body. Uncertain, the white tom lightly leaned to the side, placing his head gently against one of the crystals.

Over time the whispers he had heard coming in had grown louder, but the moment he fell asleep, they disappeared. Whitehawk’s single yellow-green eye opened, finding he was standing in darkness. He scanned his surroundings, unsure of what this was, whether he was dreaming or if he was in some sort of limbo. He peered at the ground, and it very vaguely resembled the texture of stone, but far darker and nearly impossible to see. And the area around him, he saw no walls, no trees, nothing, except darkness.

For a moment he considered that maybe this was just a regular dream, that perhaps the message delivered to him from Sageheart had been retracted. But, as his gaze shifted, shapes formed in front of him, the vague outlines of multiple felines appearing before him. Just as silhouettes, he couldn't recognize who they were, only that their pelts glimmered with the dim light of tiny stars and their eyes looked on at him, their expressions unreadable. It took him just a moment to realize that those who stood before him were cats of Starclan, and there were many of them. Suddenly feeling the pressure of their gazes, the white tom quickly straightened his stance and fixed his posture. As he did, he heard a familiar chuckle.

"Oh calm down, you don't have to be so rigid."

A moment of confusion washed over him until one of the glimmering shapes stepped forward, features coming into better view. A she-cat, long silvery pelt lashed with darker tabby stripes rather well-groomed and yellow eyes sharp in comparison to the smirk that crossed her face.

"I-Ivyflare?"

"Long time no see, tiger." A chuckle fell from her maw and a wink flashed over her eyes, his uncertainty and worry obvious on the tom's face. "Welcome to Starclan."

His mind drifted, thinking back to the days when he was just a Warrior in Stoneclan, as was she. Back when they would end up on patrols together and she would nudge against him, picking on him for being so nervous around she-cats and dropping flirts that were so casual his pelt burned upon seeing her. She likely would have been a member of Gorgeclan with him, if… "I….I am…really so-"

"No no no, nope, none of that. Do not apologize to me. There is nothing for you to apologize for. Besides, I couldn't have asked for a cooler death than that."

His ears flattened a tad against his head, silenced by her words. She had been one of the many lost to the earthquake. She hadn't made it to the safety of the Tribe, nor had many of his clanmates. A deep ache had been rooted in his chest because of this, one that, though he didn't show it outwardly, had caused many nightmares and intrusive thoughts to plague him.

After a moment of silence, Ivyflare straightened her own posture, seeming to switch into business mode.

"We welcome you, Whitehawk." The voices of all the cats, including Ivyflare, echoed around him, and colors just began to appear on their pelts. Some were harder to distinguish, but he knew he recognized a few of them immediately, his heart catching in his throat. "Your old life as a Warrior is to be been taken from you so that you may continue on as the Leader of Gorgeclan. Are you ready to receive your nine lives?"

He took a moment to breathe, calming his heart rate. He had spent the last three days trying to answer this question, as well as many others. Could he do it? Did he have what it took? Would he be a good Leader? His mind took him elsewhere, back to camp before he had left to come here. He saw their faces. Brackenstride, Orioleflight, Wisteriapaw, Ebonyheart, Sageheart, all of them. And, almost on cue, the words of his own Apprentice, one of the wisest Apprentices he had ever met, echoed in his ears. "You are not what happens to you; you are who you choose to be."

His ears straightened, he lifted his chin, and his eyes, both the one he had remaining and the area where one once was, opened to meet the gazes of all of those before him.

"I am ready."

Ivyflare, playful smirk and all, padded forward closer to him, stopping just in front of him. For a minute she just stared, and though Whitehawk had thought he solidified his choice in his mind, there was a gnawing feeling nipping at his stomach the longer she stared without speaking. And then her expression changed, eyes narrowing at him and smile disappearing. She saw right through him.

"You're questioning yourself," Ivyflare accused him abruptly. "The Clan looks to you as their leader, but you're constantly worrying about making the wrong decision or anyone getting hurt because of a wrong choice. But guess what?" She shoved her face close to his. "You are not a bad cat. You have to believe in yourself, and understand that GorgeClan believes in you too. You care for your Clan as your family and because of that, you could never do anything to harm them." She closed the last of the gap between them to touch their noses together. "With this life, I give you confidence. You must be confident in your decisions, and know that every choice you make is for the good of the Clan. They're depending on you."

There was a deep feeling of warmth that spread through his chest, warmer than even the hottest Greenleaf day. But also a twinge of pain, as though the deep-rooted anxiety that had plagued him for moons was attempting to fight back. His vision faded, images of the clan forming in front of him in place of Ivyflare. Stoneclan as they fled from the earthquake, Whitehawk padding forward with Orioleflight draped over his back and Wisteriapaw in his jaws, falling behind, yet still pushing onward with all the strength he could muster. A flash of the Tribe’s home cave, Ebonyheart standing atop a stone and calling to the clan, choosing Whitehawk to stand by her side as a source of strength and resilience. And the distinct image of the camp, the Tangled Roots a shining landmark among the thorns and trees. And atop this landmark stood himself, a bright white light surrounded by those he cared for most. Something planted itself in his chest, something even upon its arrival he could feel was permanent. That feeling of pride, that joy that he felt when he looked at those around him, looked at the Apprentices he had trained, how important all of them were to him. More images flooded in quickly. Whitecry and Tigerblaze's ceremonies, Wisteriapaw's ceremony, him leading the clan to the tribe. All of it…he had done. And look where they were now. They had made it. They had a home. And he had led them there. As the images faded, it was as though the anxiety that had plagued him since the day Ebonyheart had made him the Stoneclan Deputy diminished. What was left in its place was pride, a knowing that Ivyflare was right: he was capable, and he was ready.

She pulled away from him, fixing him with intense eyes. "You were chosen by StarClan to become Leader. If you doubt yourself, you're doubting us too." With that, she flicked her tail and strutted away from him.

He watched as she parted, though just as quickly as she faded into the background to rejoin the others, another stepped forward. Large black paws carried a silver body forward. Though old before his death, crossing over to StarClan's forests had aged him backwards, and Wolfclaw appeared as he had in his prime.

"Wolfclaw." His voice was filled with surprise, hardly able to believe that the tom was standing before him. He had been the Deputy of Stoneclan when White was young. He had seen him and Hawkstar stand alongside each other so many times. And, when the time came, he had watched as the grand tom's daughter became an Apprentice and a Warrior. The same daughter he had saved during the earthquake, the same one that stood by him nearly every day, and the same one that had helped bring him here.

Stars littered the tom’s fur, but his greenish-gold eyes held the same spark they had in life. His maw was tilted slightly in a smirk, as if he carried a secret he couldn't wait to reveal. "Whitehawk. With this life, I give you Passion. Use it to dedicate yourself absolutely to your Clan. They are yours now, and they depend on you, just as you depend on them. Every choice you make, everything that you do, you must do it for the good of those who follow you. Without them, there is no you. Devote yourself to them wholeheartedly, lead them with fire and passion and heart, and they will follow and reward you in kind. You must be willing to risk life and limb for their sake, and should you die protecting your Clan, that is the most honorable death any Warrior or Leader could ever ask for." Taking a step forward, Wolfclaw rested his muzzle upon Whitehawk's head.

Where Ivyflare’s given life had brought a covering warmth to the white tom’s body, Wolfclaw’s brought true fire. As though his entire heart was ablaze, determination and adrenaline coursed through his body with such intensity that it made him dizzy. He could hear a pounding in his ears, the rush of grass and stone moving beneath his paws, and his own voice, practically a roar echoing through the gorge and the forest. The ferocity, the willpower, and the persistence, it all drove him forward, not for himself, but for the clan. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Whitehawk had always been known for his dedication and loyalty to his clan, both before and after the earthquake, but this was a whole new beast. A whole new level of devotion. Slowly, the feeling subsided, leaving Whitehawk’s body held up by wide-spread paws and heaving in his chest. He slowly lifted his head, looking to Wolfclaw with shaky vision. And what he saw was a deep smile mixed with a touch of a smirk, a gleam in the tom’s eyes.

As the life faded, Wolfclaw took a moment to whisper his secret. "I still watch over her, even now. Be good to her. I know she can take care of herself, but there is a fire inside of her that is precious. Don't ever let it burn out. Take care of her, and she will take care of you." He began to step back, then paused, meeting Whitehawk's eye. "I couldn't have picked a better cat for her," he finished in that same low whisper. With a smile and a brief, respectful nod, he turned and padded back to his place.

As the dark tom turned away, the skin beneath White's cheek fur grew red and his eyes widened, taking in what had been said, or rather how it had been phrased. ‘I couldn’t have picked a better cat for her’? He didn’t know what to say or think. Did…did Wolfclaw think that he and Oriole were… He almost didn't notice as another approached. He turned his head just slightly, finding yet another very dark figure approaching, a lighter figure by their side, and he felt his heart skip a beat. The large black Maine Coon that stood before him, and the smaller silver Bengal at his side, seeing them sent a wave of feeling through him. Nightpetal and Petalwish. He distinctly remembered the days back when both of them still lived. He and Lakegaze had been on so many patrols with them. They had watched as the couple had both of their litters of kits. Petalwish had been such a fun cat, like that cool aunt who always loved playing games and making everything a competition. And Nightpetal…even when his name had been Nightshade, he had always been like a father figure to so many in the clan, even during the days when he laid in the Elder's den alone. Every time that Whitehawk had visited him, the old tom put on a smile and a playful tone, but he could always see that emptiness, that longing in his eyes and that space in his nest he refused to lay in, for it was where his mate belonged.

And now they both stood before him, so young and healthy like the old days, before the accident, before any of it.

"It's been so long, little hawk. And you've grown so much since I last saw you, " Petalwish's voice, so full of joy, brought warmth to his ears, as did she as she stepped forward, nuzzling her head against his. As she stepped aside, White met the brilliant yellow gaze of Nightpetal, the old tom silent. He seemed so serious for a moment, but that very quickly disappeared, a giant toothy grin crossing his face.

"Way to go, big guy! You’ve done an awesome job!" The big tom lifted a massive paw and gave White a couple hearty pats to the back, both of them chuckling. "I wish we could catch up, but you know how these guys get. So uptight and serious, always wanting to get straight to the point." The black tom rolled his eyes and flicked his tail at the rest of the Starclan cats, a crooked almost nervous smile forming on White's face. Nightpetal stepped forward, his black nose meeting White's pink.

"With this life I give you humor. The life of a Warrior is hard enough, and the life of a Leader will definitely be harder. This life is so that you don't let yourself become too caught up in any stress that comes your way. Yes, your job is important and a lot of cats are depending on you. But you are still just one cat, and you deserve to live a good and hearty life, just as your clanmates do. Don't let your duties and worries make you lose who you are."

As this life filled him, he almost felt as light as a feather, the weight of his own pelt and all of his anxiety fading away. He saw the times when he and Lakegaze would spend their days climbing up mountains of stones just for the fun of it, the days when they would race through the territory with Petalwish by their side, all the times that he and his friends would laugh together. It felt so…comforting. So happy. So freeing.

His vision returned, and though the silver Bengal she-cat turned and began to depart, the large black Maine Coon remained for a second, leaning in close and wrapping a leg around White's shoulder, his maw nearly touching White's ear. "By the way, I've seen you with Wolfclaw's daughter, I saw you save her. She brought you here today." For a second there was silence, and White turned to peer at the older tom. As he turned, he saw a giant playful grin plastered across his whole face, making White's eyes widen and his ears go flat. "Nice catch, man, she's a beauty. I'm sure you'll be a great dad." Whitehawk's face turned vibrant red and his eye widened, his voice coming out in stammers of defense, but to no avail. Nightpetal let out a big hearty laugh as he gave a final pat on the back and turned, joining his mate in the crowd.

He didn't have time to recover from the shock of the tom's words before another figure approached, and they weren't alone either. Though he felt his heart melt at the sight. The cat who approached was another Stoneclan Elder, or at least had been before, another cat he had enjoyed talking to. But she was different than he last remembered. It was Bunnytail who walked forward, but she looked so….young. So lively. Her coat was perfectly groomed, her super fluffy tail was held up behind her in a prim fashion, and her amber eyes looked to him with fondness. Seeing her look so healthy and happy was already enough to soften his heart, but she was not alone. Toddling at her sides were two little kits, both of whom looked up at him with big innocent eyes of curiosity. He remembered…Bunnytail had lost two kits when they were very small, Daykit and Dawnkit. This must be them. She was reunited with them…

He felt the warmth and welling of tears in his eye as the Queen stepped forward. "Hello Whitehawk." He couldn't speak, unable to form words, but he didn't have to, for she stepped forward and almost instantly met her nose with his.

"With this life I give you patience. It will take time for you to adjust to this new life, just as it will take time for your clan to grow accustomed to their new life. This blessing will help you when times seem rough, when things grow grim, you will remember that good things come in time."

Where the other lives he had received had been warm, or in some cases searingly hot, this life was achingly heavy. It was as though all of his anxiety, all of his worries and doubts for the future, all of them piled up on him at once, weighing him down. His legs buckled beneath him and he nearly collapsed to the ground, the pressure of a whole tree on his back holding him down. The blurry land that formed around him, like a memory he only had vague remembrance of, seemed to be standing completely still. But, slowly, the weight began to fade, replaced with an almost cool breeze as though he were standing in a clearing. The clearing itself was covered in snow, cold on his pawpads and chilling under his coat. A voice in his head that sounded much like his own whispered to him, the thought running through his mind. When Newleaf comes, this field will thrive with new flowers, grass, and herbs. Newleaf is still a while away, but I know it will come. And when it does, this place will be beautiful.

"A proper Warrior knows that glory and greatness come with time, as does a proper Leader. The same can be said for beauty, though I never had to worry about that, " the cream-furred she-cat took on a proper pose with her tail fluffed up and her chin held high, running her own tail under her chin. Her gaze fell to the kits at her sides, her eyes softening. "Life is hard, but you must take it in stride. Good things come to those who wait."

The two kits bound forward, rolling and jumping over White's massive paws with mews of delight. But when Bunnytail turned and began to pad away, the two little ones followed after her, giggling and meowing to each other as they took little leaps behind their mother.

Another cat strode forward, another with a very dark pelt, though he did not recognize her. She was a taller she-cat with long legs, narrowed yellow eyes, a large scar across her chest, and a serious expression. "My name is Vipertongue. I was once a Senior Warrior of Treeclan. You do not know me, but I have been keeping a watchful eye on you." Her tone was almost threatening, sending a chill down the white tom's spine. "In my life I saw and experienced much hardship, most often brought on by other cats, ones I believed I could trust."

White seemed confused as she stepped forward, lifting her chin and standing merely a second away from his face, though their noses did not touch. "I will not stand here and praise you for your virtues as the others may, for your virtues are balanced with your flaws. You are too trusting. You act as though every cat you meet has a desire to be a good cat, that no one ever truly has bad intentions. And you are wrong." Her voice was laced with what almost sounded like a growl, but she still pushed forward, touching her nose to his.

"With this life I give you judgment. When it comes to your surroundings, you are known for your caution and your worry for the safety of others. But when it comes to matters of the mind hidden from the outside, you are very forgiving, you believe in second chances and change. This life is given so that you may perceive and judge when someone isn’t worthy of forgiveness. When someone may not be all they say they are. When someone isn't worthy of a second chance. And when someone may have ill intentions towards you or your clan."

This life was painful, like a searing pain in his chest and his head, causing him to take a few steps back with a stumble. He had a vision, one where he was standing at a border, though he did not recognize the border. He stood alone, but on the other side a cat approached, and though he did not know who they were personally on the outside, a part of him that wasn't himself told him that they were someone close, someone important. The cat came closer, a waft of marsh scent flooded over him and a warm smile crossed their face, and White almost felt as though this was a friend of his that he had merely forgotten. Suddenly the cat leapt forward, face contorting into a vicious snarl and baring of fangs, their claws extending and launching straight for his face. He was brought back to reality just before they touched him, his legs stumbling and fear flashing across his features. He looked towards the black she-cat quickly, beginning to speak. "What was-" But he stopped. There was a look on Vipertongue's face, one far different than her stern expressions before, one full of pain and betrayal. Her eyes seemed…so sad.

"Never let your hope in the goodness of others blind you. Do not let yourself fall into a trap. Watch for signs, for suspicions, for clues. If you do not fully trust someone or know who they are, do not let them think that you do or that you can….or that you should. It could come back to bite you."

He wanted to ask her what had happened, if what he saw had been from her point of view, but her face hardened and she turned, walking away from him.

For a minute, no others stepped forward. Whitehawk scanned over those he had spoken with already and those he had not, and his eye landed on one cat who finally stepped forward. His heart ached in his chest, but he tried to straighten himself.

"The little bird isn't so little anymore." The she-cat who stepped forward was a bit smaller than himself, her pelt a dark brown with darker tabby stripes and white accents. Her amber eyes looked to him with both pride and seriousness. She had always been so professional when she was his mentor.

"Hello Briarleg." He tried to keep any sappy emotions from filling his voice, but he couldn't stop them all. Briarleg was a tough mentor, one who did her job and did it well. She may have once been from Treeclan, but when life brought her to Stoneclan, there were none who could ever question her loyalty. Everything she did, she did with all of herself, even for those who did not accept her. When given the opportunity, she took mentoring very seriously, and she had shaped him into the cat he became. She was the reason that he loved teaching so much, and while his methods weren't as strict as some of hers, he still took a lot of inspiration from her.

She stepped forward, touching her nose to his. "With this life I give you survival. The valley has changed, and so too have the old ways of life. Things are different now, and everyone will have to learn what they once knew all over again. Hunting, prey, water, herbs, shelter, warmth, safety, territory. Anything could happen. And when it does, you must be ready to keep your clan safe."

This life came with stabs of pain in both of his sides, sending a harsh flashback through his mind. He saw Lakepaw, he heard her screaming. He saw the giant hawk lifting her from the ground and rushed forward, leaping and grabbing the bird by its leg. As Lakepaw dropped, he felt the talons dig into his side, and then the talons gripped his face. In his dreaming state, the hole where his eye once was began to burn and sting, the lids closing quickly. He felt all of that pain, all of that ache, and all of the remaining pain that came after. His mind then flashed to the earthquake, to Orioleflight on his back and Wisteriapaw in his jaws as a giant growing canyon nipped at his paws. He thought of the clan, of the days spent reinforcing the camp and the dens, the days of hunting and marking territory and closing predator dens. Memories of the old territories flashed in his mind, of Stoneclan, of Starclan's Claws, of the borders with Rainclan and Lightningclan. All of those places were gone now, replaced with a whole new valley, a whole new land to memorize, a whole new terrain none of them knew. They would have to learn so much.

"I know what you are capable of, Whitehawk. You have helped others many times, in more ways than one. You can protect them. You can keep them alive. You can teach them. I know you can. You are strong. You always have been."

His breathing was heavy as he recovered from his vision, but he looked to his old mentor, considering her words. Leafbare was already rearing it's head as he dreamt. Back home, the clan was still building up a solid prey pile, the Medicine Cats still needed more herbs, the dens needed more nests. There was still so much to do. But…he knew he could do it. He had to. He would keep them all alive.

Briarleg stepped forward, giving White a comforting nudge against the shoulder. "I am extremely proud to have been your mentor, Whitehawk." As she finished speaking, she turned, padding away towards another familiar cat. When she neared them, she nodded politely and they stepped forward.

He had been choked up when he saw many of the others that came before. He had nearly cried seeing Nightpetal, Petalwish, Bunnytail, and Day and Dawnkit. But he had managed to prevent them from falling. But this time…

The cat who walked forward, elegance in every step, a well-groomed flick in her fur, bright green eyes, that fluffy tail, she was the exact way he had remembered her. Snowsong had always been such a beautiful cat, even without any patterns or extra colors to her fur. Her snow-white pelt always had a gleam to it even on the darkest days, like she was a ray of light when the sun was blocked by the clouds. She always had such a warm expression on her face, always with a smile even when she was stressed. She was the sun of his young life.

She stopped, a fox-length between them. Even from a distance the white tom could see water welling in her eyes, his own vision blurring with the sting of tears.

"My son…" Her voice quivered, and Whitehawk ran forward. Though she was smaller than he was, he still found any way he could embrace her, wrapping his front legs around her, curling his head, neck, and chest over her, and she returned it, burying her face into his chest. The last time he had seen his mother was only a few moons after he became an Apprentice. It felt so long ago now…years…and to finally see her again…the fur along his cheek and his chin grew damp.

"I always knew you would make an amazing Warrior, and…now becoming a Leader? I…..I have…no words." She spoke in a muffled tone through his pelt, her head rubbing against him and a purr deeper than any thunder rumbling through them both. "I saw you rescue your sister. All of your Apprentices. The earthquake…you've done so much…my little Whitekit…"

Snowsong took in a deep sniffle, pulling herself reluctantly away from him. She lifted a paw and wiped away the tears from her eyes. When she peered at White, he was just staring at her, his only eye full of pain and longing and tears. She made a pouting face, reaching a paw up and placing it on the back of his head, pulling his face down where she could reach. She leaned forward, licking the tears away from his fur, just like when he was a kit…

She took a deep breath, calming herself. She placed her paw under his head and lifted his head. "Chin up, baby." She leaned forward again, pressing her nose gently to his.

"With this life I give you energy. Your life as a Leader will be full of responsibility, duty, and effort. As you grow older, it will become harder for you physically and mentally. This life is given so that as you grow in age, you will continue to hold the energy and willpower within you to keep going. To serve your clan for as long as possible."

This life made him feel something different than the others, something he could only describe as…electrifying. Almost as though the energy she spoke of began to buzz through him, spreading to each of his limbs and causing all of the fur across his whole body to spike. His heart rate quickened in his chest and his muscles burned, as though he had been running and moving and jumping nonstop for hours, maybe even days. He nearly collapsed at the feeling, but, strangely enough, even as he felt the burning and the chills and the shocks, he was not breathing heavily. His body was exhausted, but he felt as though he could keep going. Was that what this was? This feeling? This life?

The feeling slowly faded and he lifted his gaze to meet Snowsong's. He could see she was resisting the urge to cry again, her eyes tearing up, but she hardened herself through them. And then she chuckled through a sniffle.

"Come on, no more crying. You've gotta look professional. You've got more very important cats to talk to. They don't need to see my boy crying." She nuzzled her head against his chest and he reached down to return it. He didn't want her to go. He wanted to bring her with him, back to Gorgeclan, back to her clanmates old and new. He wanted her to meet Wisteriapaw and Tigerblaze and Orioleflight and Brackenstride and….he wanted to take her home.

She pulled away and he felt his heart clutching in his chest. She turned and hesitantly began to pad away from him, fluffy tail hanging behind her.

"I love you mother." He called to her and she stopped. She didn't move for a second, though her body tensed up. She turned her head, looking back at him with the tears she had hoped he wouldn't see flooding in her eyes.

"I love you too son."

She disappeared into the darkness and an emptiness settled over Whitehawk, like he had just watched a part of himself walk away. A lingering feeling of uncertainty settled over him. He had received 7 lives so far. So many emotions coursed through his body, remnants of the lives he had already endured. The warmth of pride, the burning of devotion, the light-footed freedom of joy, the cold of the future yet to come, the uncertainty of companionship, the flow of natural instinct, and the sheer force of willpower. He was a big cat, he was not so easy to knock down physically, but this….this was a whole different kind of force, one he had never experienced before. He knew there were still two more to come, and he took a minute to breathe, preparing himself, unsure of what to expect.

He lifted his chin, gaze shifting through the faces who remained, waiting for the next cat to approach. And they did, but it was not just one cat. TIn fact, there were four. A wave of confusion washed over him, unsure of what this was. He only had two lives left to receive; was something wrong? But, as they grew closer, the realization settled in, and a feeling of awe brushed away the confusion.

The cats who approached…three of them were familiar, all in a different manner. One, a sandy brown tabby tom, whose name had been and would forever be remembered by those who came after him. Alongside him walked a she-cat, one with a fluffy and soft white pelt with beautiful blue eyes, a molly who had been like a mother-figure to so many, biological kin and otherwise. Another, a large ruddy tom with a mane, one who he hadn't known personally, but had seen many times during gatherings of the past and knew the name of by heart. And finally, alongside him walked a well-groomed she-cat with plushy-looking sandy blonde fur, a rounded face, and eyes the color of honey. Seeing these four, everything seemed to click into place. He knew who all of them were. But even if he hadn't known them previously, the two toms alone had an air about them that told him he was in the presence of legends. And he was. Two of the greatest Leaders known in the histories of Stoneclan and Treeclan stood before him. And, only to add to the awe-struck feeling that held the white tom in place, at the side of each legendary Leader walked their mates, beautiful matriarchs in their own right.

Hawkstar and Frozenrain, and Lionstar and Honeysong.

He straightened his posture, but in turn displayed a deep bow, lowering his head to the four felines. In return, he was met with a hearty chuckle.

"There's no need for that. Lift your head, son." Hearing Hawkstar's voice brought a tightness to his chest, as well as a sense of longing. His head lifted slowly, as did his gaze, meeting the eyes of both Leaders of the past and their mates. He couldn't help but think back to all that they had faced in their long lifetimes. Sickness, loss of lives, loss of clanmates and loved ones, grand battles and rivalries, being driven from their homes, or even attacked within them. They had endured so much. But here they all stood before him, prosperity and kindness emanating from them. Their lives had been full of hardship, but they had lived them to their fullest. Inside, Whitehawk could only hope that he would be able to do the same.

"We have seen all that you have done for Gorgeclan, and the way you have guided them. We are unbelievably proud of you and all that you have accomplished." Frozenrain's voice was elegant and proper, yet so soothing to the ear, and it sent a wave of comfort over his pelt.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Whitehawk." It was Honeysong who spoke, and while he did not know her voice, it was so soft and gentle, surely a voice that had brought comfort to many in her lifetime. She offered a polite nod to him and he returned it.

Finally his eyes turned to Lionstar, who had been silent until now. Whitehawk met the maned tom's eyes, and wasn't sure how he felt, besides the recognition of standing before a great Leader now passed. The tom offered a kind smile and took a step forward. "I joined the stars long before we ever got to meet, but from what I have seen of you and the way you conduct yourself, you're a worthy, capable and strong Warrior. You're a dedicated teacher, and you carry with you my hopes for a prosperous future for GorgeClan. And," Lionstar rumbled. "My sincere respect."

"I…thank you so much. I'm just…you are all so…so awe-inspiring. And inspirational. You did so much for Stoneclan and Treeclan. I don't know…how I could ever live up to-"

"Compare not one mountain to another, for no cat is ever the same, Leader or otherwise. One is not born a leader; one is formed into one. Our strengths are our own, just as each great peak bares a unique landscape. You will lead, you will change, as any mountain. And when the time comes, you too will be recognized for all that you have done."

His words halted, Whitehawk took in Hawkstar's words, and the memory and feeling of Ivyflare's given life began to flare in his chest. He slowly nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

Lionstar stepped forward once more, stopping right in front of Whitehawk. The ruddy tom lightly pressed his nose against White's before he took a step back and spoke.

"With this life, I give you strength!" A powerful voice rang out among the stars, a declaration on behalf of those who knew, as in death and in life, what strength truly was. As he spoke, the scars he'd sustained in his final battle with Demon seemed to shiver with silvery light. "You strive for peace, and that is admirable. But sometimes peace can only be achieved through strength of body and strength of soul. In those times, you must hold fast and reach for the strength to protect what needs protecting. Just as every Warrior is taught to fight on their Clan's behalf, you cannot stay away from situations that call for claws instead of words. From you, your clanmates will draw their strength, and you must burn bright, Whitehawk, bright enough to burn back the forces that oppose your home, and light the path to triumph."

As Lionstar's life filled his body, he felt a surge through his body of power, of youth, of ferocity. His mind flashed with pictures of the island within the Gorge, his clanmates who stood atop it, his friends and family, and all of those who were yet to come. Seeing their faces and their home, instinct and willpower took over, his desire to protect them all and all that they had overwhelming him. But he did not falter. He could feel adrenaline rushing through his veins and the scent of blood, the heat of battle hot on his skin as he stood in front of the whole of Gorgeclan, the massive shadow of danger straight ahead. But, even still, he did not falter. He could feel the eyes of his clan on his back, and he knew; he must protect them.

Though, even as this jumble of feelings and instincts began to fade, something else still lingered, something similar, but different. As before, he stood amongst his clanmates, but this time he could vaguely feel as they all leaned forward, laying their heads against him, all of them combined into one. He couldn't just protect them. He had to be there for them. When they could not find strength in themselves, he must become their strength. When they felt as though they were lost in the darkness, he must be their guiding light.

"Whitehawk." Lionstar's voice rumbled from behind a golden mane, emanating a natural aura of command though the eyes themselves were kind. "You may feel as though you carry the weight of the old world. The old ways. You do not. That weight has already split the valley and toppled Clans. Let this be a fresh start for those who have survived and those who will be born into this new world. Use this strength to lift and support others, for there will be many stumblings along the way."

The older tom seemed to smile, the fierceness of his demeanor lessening. "The stars are there to guide you and serve as a reminder of what's come to pass. But look to the morning with bright eyes, Whitehawk. Our light is not needed every heartbeat of every day for you to find your path, but you will walk with StarClan's blessing."

Very slowly, all that had come with this life faded, but even when the visions and overwhelming feeling were gone, Whitehawk could still feel what he had seen. Though he was already a large cat, he felt larger, as though all of the strength he had ever gained or given in his life had come to him once more.

Straightening himself, he offered a low bow to Lionstar, a portion of himself only able to imagine how much the lion-like tom had experienced in his life. All that he had learned. But this was not the only thought that crossed his mind as he lifted his head and met Lionstar and Honeysong's gazes.

"I'm sure you have already known this for a very long time. But…your son is one of the bravest, fiercest, and most hard-working toms I have ever met. In everything that has happened, and all I have managed to do, I don't think I could have done it without him. You both raised one of the best Warriors I could ever ask for to stand by my side."

Heartwarming smiles crossed both Lionstar and Honeysong's faces, and the red tom's eyes softened. "He is forging his own legacy, one outside of my shadow. I will watch over you both from Silverpelt. Thank you, Whitestar."

The mated pair took a few steps back, leaving Whitehawk to turn and peer at Hawkstar and Frozenrain. Even now, looking at them made his chest tighten, for they had been two primary figures during much of his life. He had seen the two of them stand side by side for so long, their children around them and pride in their eyes. It had been quite a while since he last saw them, but even still, their memory lived on within him and would for the rest of his life.

It was Hawkstar who stepped forward and stood before the large white tom, a kind smile on his face. Whitehawk wanted to say something, wanted to thank the old Leader for all that he had done for Stoneclan, to tell him how much he admired him and how he never expressed that enough during Hawk's time alive. But he remained silent. Hawkstar had never been one to bask in anyone's expressed glory. He was wise beyond his years, but he never let anyone see him as a higher being. That was one of the many traits that White had always admired, and now, he hoped that he would be the same way.

The sandy tabby stepped forward, and his voice sent a soothing chill down White's back.

"With this life, I give you Unity. Clans once separate come together to form one. Wills, egos, and past pride cloud the judgment and logical thinking of those around you. Change is not easy for those unwilling. Become the unifying pillar uniting the clan, bring them together. Set a good example, correct mistakes shadowed in pride, be inclusive and without favoritism. They are all your clan now, no matter their origins. Teach them this, teach them to stand as one." As he finished, he stepped forward and pressed his nose to Whitehawk's.

Out of all of the lives that he had been given up until now, this life was the one that felt the most intense. Perhaps it was because it was the final life to be given, or maybe it was because of the importance that this life gave. Either way, he felt the effects immediately.

He felt as though the sun was shining all of its rays across his back, basking him in light. He could see Gorgeclan surrounding him. The faces of his family, his friends, his Apprentices, everyone. They were all looking to him, not as individual cats, not as cats once from different origins. They looked to him as one. With the warmth cloaking him and a shiver down his back, and the eyes of his clan on him, looking to him for guidance, he felt…whole. Solid. As though…this was where he belonged.

Both Lionstar and Hawkstar met his gaze, and for a moment, they all were silent, and Whitehawk found himself thinking. Birdstar should have been here. He could feel the gazes of his mother, of Briarleg, of Nightpetal and Petalwish, of Bunnytail and her kits. They all could feel it. Even still, it was time.

"We hail you by your new name, Whitestar! Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a Leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of Gorgeclan. Defend it well; care for young and old; stand as their unifying pillar; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the Warrior Code; live each life with pride and dignity."

The two tom's voices joined together as one as a warm heat surged inside of his body. He watched as all of those that came before stepped forward and stood around him. His mother, his mentor, his friends, his inspiration, and even another who he may not have known during her lifetime, but he still felt honor in her presence.

"Whitestar! Whitestar! Whitestar!" They all began to chant his new name, and he did his best to contain the tears that welled in his only eye. He kept his chin high and his back straightened, standing before them no longer a Warrior, but a Leader.

As each of them turned and began to fade, one cat remained. Seeing her still standing there sent aches through his entire chest, and they grew sharper as she approached. Whitestar looked down to his mother, her eyes full of pride, but also sadness.

"My son…my baby…I am so proud…of you and of your sister…I love both of you so much…and I know that you will make an amazing Leader." His mother stretched her head up to place her nose gently right beneath where his other eye once was, and he felt a few tears begin to fall from the other.

"I love you, mother…"

Before long, Snowsong faded away, leaving White by himself. He closed his eyes, shutting away what remained of his tears.

When his eyes opened again, he found that he was no longer in the darkness of Starclan. He had returned to the cavern of crystals, where the stone beneath his paws was cool to the touch and the far distant sound of water reached his ears. He stood slowly, wobbly on his paws at first. He could still feel them. The aura of the 9 lives granted to him, and the presence of those who gave them to him. It was like nothing he had ever felt before.


As Whitestar emerged from the cavern behind the falling pool, the fur along his cheeks damp with the remnants of tears, his gaze found his three companions waiting for him. Each of them turned to peer at him, their stares awaiting an answer. The large white tom met each of their eyes, both of his own open, including the hollow crevice that he never showed to anyone. After everything that he had felt, everything he had been told, and all that came to him in his chest, it only felt right that his clanmates see him. All of him. Even the scar that had plagued his life for years. He was silent at first, but as he met Brackenstride's gaze, a warm smile crossed his features. Within himself, looking at the tom before him that had served as his partner for moons now, he could feel pride. Not only his own pride, but Lionstar's. And the same feeling filled him as he turned to look at Orioleflight. His cheeks grew warm looking at her, thinking back to all that had been spoken of her, and of himself. But…even beyond that…he felt the same thing. Not only his own pride of having her to stand by his side, but also the pride of her father. Of Wolfclaw.

He offered a kind smile to each of them.

"It's time to go home."

8490 | Tags | Notes

Katara [Ivyflare] Amber [Orioleflight, Wolfclaw] Fae Magic [Wisteriapaw] Ghost the Undead Goddess [Bunnytail, Day&Dawn] Fawn [Brackenstride, Lionstar, Frozenrain] BlooRey DVD [Hawkstar] Justice [Honeysong]