Post by Amber on Nov 12, 2018 21:49:01 GMT -5
DARKBLAZE
brother let me be your fortress
"You’re representing NightClan tonight. I expect you to behave accordingly." Darkblaze’s mew was a quiet thing, but the dark gray-and-white apprentice beside him nodded, clearly taking his father’s words to heart. "Good. Now, you are more than welcome to mingle and get to know apprentices and even warriors from the other Clans, but be wary of making friends. Keep in mind that you may have to face these same cats on the battlefield one day." Again, Shadepaw only nodded, but his eyes were wide and his ears focused on his father as they followed the NightClan patrol to StarClan’s Claws. As they drew close to the Gathering place, Shadepaw's eyes grew wider. It was his first time seeing the towering spires of rock that gave the clearing its name, and the young apprentice was in awe of their sheer size. Darkblaze smiled to see the wonder on his son’s face.
It was clear that NightClan was only the second Clan to arrive, but the others followed rather swiftly. As the clearing began to fill, Darkblaze turned to his son again. "Go on. Go meet some of the other apprentices, but remember what I said. Above all, though, have some fun." Darkblaze tapped Shadepaw on the shoulder with his tail, giving the apprentice a warm smile. Shadepaw responded with a smile that was happy and bright before trotting away to, most likely, disregard Darkblaze’s warning and make friends. Yellow-gold eyes watched the young apprentice sit down with a group of others his age before turning away to scan the clearing. StoneClan was the last Clan to join them, trickling into the clearing and mixing into the mass of cats with ease.
Once the StoneClan cats were settled, many pairs of eyes settled upon the five leaders, waiting for the Gathering to truly begin. Before any of the leaders could step up, though, there was a vicious snarl, followed by screeching and a shout of warning, and the Gathering broke into chaos. Darkblaze sprang up immediately, eyes snapping toward the sounds of battle. It didn’t take long for the stench of fox to reach his nose, the strength of it forcing his lips into a snarl. For a second, Darkblaze hesitated. His instincts told him he needed to be there, fighting the foxes, but a newer, stronger instinct forced him to turn away. He had to find his son, make sure he was safe. The fear and panic was stretching throughout the clearing now, making it difficult for him to recognize the cats around him.
"Shadepaw!" he called, his voice straining to rise above the noise. His paws began moving toward the last place he’d seen the gray-and-white tom, hoping he’d still be somewhere close.
"Papa! Papa!" Darkblaze’s head whipped to the side as his son’s voice reached his ears. The apprentice was bounding toward him, and the warrior moved to close the distance between them. Shadepaw pressed himself between his father’s legs, his entire coat standing on end. "Papa, what’s going on?" The open fear in his voice broke Darkblaze’s heart.
He reached down to nuzzle his son as best he could. "Shadepaw, listen to me. I need you to leave. If you see any other apprentices, take them with you. Get to camp if you can; find secure shelter if you can’t. I don’t care which Clan you run to; I’ll find you later. But I need you to run. Get out of here as fast as you can, and don’t look back, alright? Just escape, okay? Go now." Shadepaw was quivering beneath him, and Darkblaze gently nudged him toward the edge of the clearing. "Go. Run as fast as you can. And Shadepaw," he waited until terrified yellow eyes met his calm gold ones, "I love you. Now go, get as far away from here as you can. Be brave, my son." With that, he gave Shadepaw one final nudge, watching his son run toward NightClan territory.
Darkblaze turned back to the clearing, taking stock of the situation. There seemed to be foxes everywhere, but a closer look revealed that there were only five, with more than enough Clan cats to battle them all. Priority would be getting apprentices, elders, and the wounded to safety. He strode forward, eyes peeled for a fight or a cat he could rescue. A young warrior practically fell into his path, followed closely by a fox. Darkblaze lunged forward with no hesitation, stepping between the scarred female fox and the young warrior. His deflection earned him a mouthful of teeth to his right shoulder, and Darkblaze snarled angrily in response. He twisted and started to roll to his left, jaws snapping at Masa’s dark orange fur as his left leg twisted up to claw at the fox. A second later, his shoulder hit the ground, giving him the stability he needed to swing both hindlegs around and under the fox, clawing at her belly. At the same time, the young warrior had recovered, and leapt on the fox’s back. Startled by the dual assault, Masa screeched, releasing her hold on Darkblaze’s shoulder. The broad warrior took the opening to roll away and rise to his paws, fixing the female fox with a dark glare and angry snarl. He lunged forward, raking his claws against the fox’s face, being careful to avoid the other warriors joining into the fight. It didn’t register to him that none of the cats fighting beside him were from NightClan; even if he had noticed, it wouldn’t have mattered. These foxes seemed to have done what none of the Clans would have managed on their own: united them toward one common goal.
As more warriors joined the fight against Masa, Darkblaze stepped back a moment to catch his breath. The wound in his shoulder was starting to sting, and he could feel the blood steadily dripping down his leg. A quick glance revealed fur and flesh pulled back, creating a nasty gash that would readily scar him. He prepared himself to return to the fray, a sharp cry in a familiar voice reached his ears. Ignoring the fight before him, Darkblaze spun around and raced off to the cry.
"Papa! Papa, help me!" Shadepaw’s voice seemed to reach directly into Darkblaze’s ears. The panic there was undeniable, and Darkblaze bounded toward him as quickly as he could, gathering able cats where he could. Not many seemed to argue his orders of "Come, help", and he had a small contingent of warriors with him when he reached his son’s cries.
Kayo, a female cub, stood in the midst of a small group of apprentices, with a trembling Shadepaw in her jaws. His dark gray coat was stained with blood, and the other apprentices were frozen in horror. Darkblaze let loose a fierce battle cry and lunged straight for the fox, with Thrushwhisker, Lichenfrost, and Sparrowtail on his heels. Kayo dropped the apprentice and turned to face the warriors, but the four-on-one odds had even her twisted mind hesitating. Darkblaze landed several blows on the fox, taking turns darting in and out between the other warriors, before a small voice pulled him away.
"Papa..." Shadepaw’s voice was weak, and Darkblaze was nearly immediately at his side.
"Shadepaw, hush now, Papa’s here," Darkblaze rasped. His golden eyes raked over his son’s trembling form. He was bleeding profusely from several wounds, and a few of his bones seemed to be broken. His breathing was ragged, alternating between fast and shallow breaths and deep, labored ones. Shadepaw had never looked as small as he did in that moment.
"Papa, I’m sorry...I tried to do like you said." His voice was scratchy and broken, coming out in gasps and pants that made Darkblaze’s heart ache. "I tried to get away...but I saw the others...I was gonna lead them away too...and then the fox..." Shadepaw breathed a deep, shaky, rattling breath, and Darkblaze drew closer, wrapping himself carefully around his son’s broken body. He began to carefully groom him, trying to make his motions as gentle and soothing as possible. "She-she g-grabbed me, a-a-and-d...Papa, P-Papa, it h-hurts!" Darkblaze gently shushed his son as the younger’s voice rose in agony.
"It’s okay, my love. All will be well. You’ve been so brave. I’m so proud of you, Shadepaw." Darkblaze tried to keep his voice as steady as he could, knowing it’s what Shadepaw needed, even as his heart shattered at the young cat’s pain. It was becoming painfully obvious that the injuries he’d sustained were too much for his young body to bear, but Darkblaze wasn’t about to let his son die in fear. He would comfort him, and pray to StarClan that Silvermist would be waiting for him tonight. Darkblaze continued to soothe his son, one ear still on the battles around him. The three warriors he’d brought with him had managed to get the fox away from the apprentices, who had then had the sense to move farther away from StarClan’s Claws, leaving Darkblaze alone with his dying son.
"P-Papa...I-I’m so c-c-cold..." Shadepaw’s voice was growing weaker, and Darkblaze could feel the tremors racking the small tom’s frame. Darkblaze drew in tighter to his son, wrapping his tail around him to complete the circle. His tongue continued to rasp over the bloodstained fur, doing less to clean and more to soothe.
"I love you, little one. You were so brave, Shadepaw. I’m so proud of you, and I know your mom would be proud as well. Rest now, my love. Papa’s here. You’re safe now. Just rest." He kept his voice low and gentle, pausing to give his son’s fur a few licks in between his words. Darkblaze tried to convey as much pride and love as he could through his actions and his words, and he hoped that Shadepaw understood.
"L-Love y-you...P-Papa..." Shadepaw drew in one final ragged breath, and released it in a slow whoosh as his yellow eyes fell shut for the last time. Darkblaze froze, breath trapped in his lungs, as he waited, but Shadepaw did not draw another breath. After too many heartbeats, Darkblaze gasped, his entire body trembling. He let out a low, keening wail, as the fact that Shadepaw, his only son, would never breathe again struck his heart. The agony in his voice was palpable, and he curled himself tighter around his son as he cried out. Suddenly, the NightClan senior warrior could feel the full weight of all his losses pressing against him, dragging down his shoulders, crushing him into the earth. His parents, Nightflower and Shadowpelt; his mentor, Frogsplash; his sister, Brightfeather; Hazeheart to the Tribe; then Silvermist and Brightkit; and now Shadepaw. Nearly his entire family, his entire support system, gone. The pain in his heart and his soul burned more fiercely than the physical wounds to his body.
If the cats nearby turned and looked, they could see the normally stoic, steadfast, and powerful senior warrior reduced to a wailing mess of a puddle, curled around a broken, bloody body. For Darkblaze, the Gathering, the clearing, his entire world, had evaporated, and all that existed was his pain, his heartache, and the broken body he guarded with his own. How would he move on from this? So much pain, so much agony. This valley was filled with memories, all of them now tinged with heartbreak. It stung, the sharp edges of everything, and he felt as if his entire body was aflame. He burned, he ached, and he couldn’t see any way out of it. His mind kept bringing up memories, happy memories of his son laughing, so happy, so eager, all of it overshadowed by the fact that he’d never hear him speak, or laugh, or live, again. And then further, to Brightkit, who never really had a chance to grow and live, and Silvermist, the sweet, gentle, yet fiercely loyal and dependable warrior he’d had the great honor to name his mate, who would never see her kits grow to warriors, who he would never be able to hunt with, fight with, sleep with, live with, again. And then even further, to Brightfeather, the warrioress he’d grown up beside, who had shared his trials and his pains, whose life was cut short by illness before she could build a family of her own.
His entire life was spent in this valley, and nearly everyone he had ever loved was gone. The only ones he had left alive were his one remaining daughter, Ebonykit, who had, by some divine intervention, not been chosen to attend the night’s gathering, and Hazeheart—Dusk, now, who had left the valley entirely to begin a new life with the Tribe of Forgotten Waters. Maybe, if Hazeheart had done it, he could, too. Maybe he could take Ebonypaw and run away, leave the pain and heartache of this valley behind them.
Thoughts of his daughter brought a new wave of painful thoughts to the fore. How would he tell her of Shadepaw’s death? The two siblings were rather close, and Darkblaze had been here. He should have been able to protect him, but here he was now, curled around his son’s dead body. He had failed to protect him, failed to keep him alive. If he hadn’t been here, it would have been different; he couldn’t have possibly been to blame. But he was here, he could have stopped it, he should have stopped it. Darkblaze began to spiral, wondering where he went wrong, berating himself over and over for failing to protect his son, his love, one of the only family he had left. He sank deeper and deeper into the dark thoughts, going over the events leading up to this moment over and over from every possible angle, reliving his actions and inactions, what he did, should have done, could have done differently. It was dangerous, toxic thinking, but he couldn’t escape it. Why should he? His son was dead, and he was at fault. He was supposed to protect him, keep him safe, why couldn’t he do that?
Darkblaze wailed again, the agony of his son’s death and the pain of his own self-hatred filling him past the brim and exploding outward by way of his mouth. His calls filled the clearing, even as the fighting around him continued. He was in agony, and he almost prayed that StarClan would take him, too. Almost. The only thing that prevented him from seeking his own death was thoughts of his daughter. Ebonypaw didn’t deserve to be an orphan, and she didn’t deserve a father too consumed by grief and pain to raise her. With a great effort, Darkblaze began to pull himself together. He needed to be strong. For Ebonypaw, if not for himself. With thoughts of his last remaining kit guiding him, Darkblaze gathered up all the errant, toxic, dangerous thoughts, wrangled them into a shadowed corner of his mind, and locked them away. They would do him no good tonight, nor anytime soon, and were best left alone. Cautiously, he began clearing away his thoughts, sweeping his mind clean. His eyes had fallen closed ages ago, which typically made his meditations easier, and he eased himself into his typical routine. He focused on his breathing first, dragging it out of the shaky, inconsistent rhythm and into a slow, deep, even pattern. His thoughts started to fall away, and his muscles hesitantly began to relax. Occasionally, a tremor would pass through him, threatening to break the dams he was building around his pain, but he persevered, making sure everything was secure.
Only after his mind was clear did he dare to move. Carefully, painstakingly, he began to extract himself from the rapidly cooling body beside him. His bones ached, and his joints protested the actions, as his mind tried to rebel against him leaving Shadepaw. He consoled himself as best he could: he wasn’t leaving him, instead moving to be better able to protect himself for his daughter. The dark tom rose slowly, the wound in his shoulder a dull ache for now. It was only after he managed to get upright that he dared open his eyes, taking a steeling breath beforehand.
Shadepaw lay half-curled on the ground at his paws, eyes closed and face relaxed. Were it not for the blood, the broken bones, the torn skin and exposed flesh, he might have been sleeping. Darkblaze nearly scoffed. There was no way any cat could be fooled that his son was sleeping. The fox had wrought horrendous damage to the young tom, and his death had not been a quick or easy one. Darkblaze heaved a deep sigh. Shadepaw wanted nothing more than to become a great warrior, and now would never have that chance. It was a shattering thought, but there would be time to mourn later. Right now, there was the not-so-small matter of the foxes still terrorizing the Gathering. Darkblaze lowered his head to give his lost child one final nuzzle and gentle lick, blinking away the emotion threatening to spill forth from his eyes.
The dark NightClan warrior straightened fully, yellow-gold eyes narrowing sharply as they raked over the clearing before him. Warriors of all Clans were still battling the five foxes; not one had foe had retreated or been killed yet, though broken bodies of warriors and apprentices alike dotted the ground. The bite wound in his shoulder made itself known once again, throbbing and sending pulses of pain down his right foreleg. Darkblaze pushed the pain to the back of his mind, though; there were more pressing matters to deal with. The flow of blood had slowed considerably, but he didn’t doubt it would resume again if he exerted himself too much. There was no time to find a healer, and if he did, he’d more than likely be sidelined. Better to push through the pain and contribute to the war effort.
A sharp cry to his left notified him of a battle taking place within range; the three warriors he had led into battle against Kayo were still at it, all three looking a touch ragged. With a fierce cry, Darkblaze launched himself back into battle against the fox that stole his son away, lending strong paws and an iron determination to the three flagging warriors.
3,050 words.
It was clear that NightClan was only the second Clan to arrive, but the others followed rather swiftly. As the clearing began to fill, Darkblaze turned to his son again. "Go on. Go meet some of the other apprentices, but remember what I said. Above all, though, have some fun." Darkblaze tapped Shadepaw on the shoulder with his tail, giving the apprentice a warm smile. Shadepaw responded with a smile that was happy and bright before trotting away to, most likely, disregard Darkblaze’s warning and make friends. Yellow-gold eyes watched the young apprentice sit down with a group of others his age before turning away to scan the clearing. StoneClan was the last Clan to join them, trickling into the clearing and mixing into the mass of cats with ease.
Once the StoneClan cats were settled, many pairs of eyes settled upon the five leaders, waiting for the Gathering to truly begin. Before any of the leaders could step up, though, there was a vicious snarl, followed by screeching and a shout of warning, and the Gathering broke into chaos. Darkblaze sprang up immediately, eyes snapping toward the sounds of battle. It didn’t take long for the stench of fox to reach his nose, the strength of it forcing his lips into a snarl. For a second, Darkblaze hesitated. His instincts told him he needed to be there, fighting the foxes, but a newer, stronger instinct forced him to turn away. He had to find his son, make sure he was safe. The fear and panic was stretching throughout the clearing now, making it difficult for him to recognize the cats around him.
"Shadepaw!" he called, his voice straining to rise above the noise. His paws began moving toward the last place he’d seen the gray-and-white tom, hoping he’d still be somewhere close.
"Papa! Papa!" Darkblaze’s head whipped to the side as his son’s voice reached his ears. The apprentice was bounding toward him, and the warrior moved to close the distance between them. Shadepaw pressed himself between his father’s legs, his entire coat standing on end. "Papa, what’s going on?" The open fear in his voice broke Darkblaze’s heart.
He reached down to nuzzle his son as best he could. "Shadepaw, listen to me. I need you to leave. If you see any other apprentices, take them with you. Get to camp if you can; find secure shelter if you can’t. I don’t care which Clan you run to; I’ll find you later. But I need you to run. Get out of here as fast as you can, and don’t look back, alright? Just escape, okay? Go now." Shadepaw was quivering beneath him, and Darkblaze gently nudged him toward the edge of the clearing. "Go. Run as fast as you can. And Shadepaw," he waited until terrified yellow eyes met his calm gold ones, "I love you. Now go, get as far away from here as you can. Be brave, my son." With that, he gave Shadepaw one final nudge, watching his son run toward NightClan territory.
Darkblaze turned back to the clearing, taking stock of the situation. There seemed to be foxes everywhere, but a closer look revealed that there were only five, with more than enough Clan cats to battle them all. Priority would be getting apprentices, elders, and the wounded to safety. He strode forward, eyes peeled for a fight or a cat he could rescue. A young warrior practically fell into his path, followed closely by a fox. Darkblaze lunged forward with no hesitation, stepping between the scarred female fox and the young warrior. His deflection earned him a mouthful of teeth to his right shoulder, and Darkblaze snarled angrily in response. He twisted and started to roll to his left, jaws snapping at Masa’s dark orange fur as his left leg twisted up to claw at the fox. A second later, his shoulder hit the ground, giving him the stability he needed to swing both hindlegs around and under the fox, clawing at her belly. At the same time, the young warrior had recovered, and leapt on the fox’s back. Startled by the dual assault, Masa screeched, releasing her hold on Darkblaze’s shoulder. The broad warrior took the opening to roll away and rise to his paws, fixing the female fox with a dark glare and angry snarl. He lunged forward, raking his claws against the fox’s face, being careful to avoid the other warriors joining into the fight. It didn’t register to him that none of the cats fighting beside him were from NightClan; even if he had noticed, it wouldn’t have mattered. These foxes seemed to have done what none of the Clans would have managed on their own: united them toward one common goal.
As more warriors joined the fight against Masa, Darkblaze stepped back a moment to catch his breath. The wound in his shoulder was starting to sting, and he could feel the blood steadily dripping down his leg. A quick glance revealed fur and flesh pulled back, creating a nasty gash that would readily scar him. He prepared himself to return to the fray, a sharp cry in a familiar voice reached his ears. Ignoring the fight before him, Darkblaze spun around and raced off to the cry.
"Papa! Papa, help me!" Shadepaw’s voice seemed to reach directly into Darkblaze’s ears. The panic there was undeniable, and Darkblaze bounded toward him as quickly as he could, gathering able cats where he could. Not many seemed to argue his orders of "Come, help", and he had a small contingent of warriors with him when he reached his son’s cries.
Kayo, a female cub, stood in the midst of a small group of apprentices, with a trembling Shadepaw in her jaws. His dark gray coat was stained with blood, and the other apprentices were frozen in horror. Darkblaze let loose a fierce battle cry and lunged straight for the fox, with Thrushwhisker, Lichenfrost, and Sparrowtail on his heels. Kayo dropped the apprentice and turned to face the warriors, but the four-on-one odds had even her twisted mind hesitating. Darkblaze landed several blows on the fox, taking turns darting in and out between the other warriors, before a small voice pulled him away.
"Papa..." Shadepaw’s voice was weak, and Darkblaze was nearly immediately at his side.
"Shadepaw, hush now, Papa’s here," Darkblaze rasped. His golden eyes raked over his son’s trembling form. He was bleeding profusely from several wounds, and a few of his bones seemed to be broken. His breathing was ragged, alternating between fast and shallow breaths and deep, labored ones. Shadepaw had never looked as small as he did in that moment.
"Papa, I’m sorry...I tried to do like you said." His voice was scratchy and broken, coming out in gasps and pants that made Darkblaze’s heart ache. "I tried to get away...but I saw the others...I was gonna lead them away too...and then the fox..." Shadepaw breathed a deep, shaky, rattling breath, and Darkblaze drew closer, wrapping himself carefully around his son’s broken body. He began to carefully groom him, trying to make his motions as gentle and soothing as possible. "She-she g-grabbed me, a-a-and-d...Papa, P-Papa, it h-hurts!" Darkblaze gently shushed his son as the younger’s voice rose in agony.
"It’s okay, my love. All will be well. You’ve been so brave. I’m so proud of you, Shadepaw." Darkblaze tried to keep his voice as steady as he could, knowing it’s what Shadepaw needed, even as his heart shattered at the young cat’s pain. It was becoming painfully obvious that the injuries he’d sustained were too much for his young body to bear, but Darkblaze wasn’t about to let his son die in fear. He would comfort him, and pray to StarClan that Silvermist would be waiting for him tonight. Darkblaze continued to soothe his son, one ear still on the battles around him. The three warriors he’d brought with him had managed to get the fox away from the apprentices, who had then had the sense to move farther away from StarClan’s Claws, leaving Darkblaze alone with his dying son.
"P-Papa...I-I’m so c-c-cold..." Shadepaw’s voice was growing weaker, and Darkblaze could feel the tremors racking the small tom’s frame. Darkblaze drew in tighter to his son, wrapping his tail around him to complete the circle. His tongue continued to rasp over the bloodstained fur, doing less to clean and more to soothe.
"I love you, little one. You were so brave, Shadepaw. I’m so proud of you, and I know your mom would be proud as well. Rest now, my love. Papa’s here. You’re safe now. Just rest." He kept his voice low and gentle, pausing to give his son’s fur a few licks in between his words. Darkblaze tried to convey as much pride and love as he could through his actions and his words, and he hoped that Shadepaw understood.
"L-Love y-you...P-Papa..." Shadepaw drew in one final ragged breath, and released it in a slow whoosh as his yellow eyes fell shut for the last time. Darkblaze froze, breath trapped in his lungs, as he waited, but Shadepaw did not draw another breath. After too many heartbeats, Darkblaze gasped, his entire body trembling. He let out a low, keening wail, as the fact that Shadepaw, his only son, would never breathe again struck his heart. The agony in his voice was palpable, and he curled himself tighter around his son as he cried out. Suddenly, the NightClan senior warrior could feel the full weight of all his losses pressing against him, dragging down his shoulders, crushing him into the earth. His parents, Nightflower and Shadowpelt; his mentor, Frogsplash; his sister, Brightfeather; Hazeheart to the Tribe; then Silvermist and Brightkit; and now Shadepaw. Nearly his entire family, his entire support system, gone. The pain in his heart and his soul burned more fiercely than the physical wounds to his body.
If the cats nearby turned and looked, they could see the normally stoic, steadfast, and powerful senior warrior reduced to a wailing mess of a puddle, curled around a broken, bloody body. For Darkblaze, the Gathering, the clearing, his entire world, had evaporated, and all that existed was his pain, his heartache, and the broken body he guarded with his own. How would he move on from this? So much pain, so much agony. This valley was filled with memories, all of them now tinged with heartbreak. It stung, the sharp edges of everything, and he felt as if his entire body was aflame. He burned, he ached, and he couldn’t see any way out of it. His mind kept bringing up memories, happy memories of his son laughing, so happy, so eager, all of it overshadowed by the fact that he’d never hear him speak, or laugh, or live, again. And then further, to Brightkit, who never really had a chance to grow and live, and Silvermist, the sweet, gentle, yet fiercely loyal and dependable warrior he’d had the great honor to name his mate, who would never see her kits grow to warriors, who he would never be able to hunt with, fight with, sleep with, live with, again. And then even further, to Brightfeather, the warrioress he’d grown up beside, who had shared his trials and his pains, whose life was cut short by illness before she could build a family of her own.
His entire life was spent in this valley, and nearly everyone he had ever loved was gone. The only ones he had left alive were his one remaining daughter, Ebonykit, who had, by some divine intervention, not been chosen to attend the night’s gathering, and Hazeheart—Dusk, now, who had left the valley entirely to begin a new life with the Tribe of Forgotten Waters. Maybe, if Hazeheart had done it, he could, too. Maybe he could take Ebonypaw and run away, leave the pain and heartache of this valley behind them.
Thoughts of his daughter brought a new wave of painful thoughts to the fore. How would he tell her of Shadepaw’s death? The two siblings were rather close, and Darkblaze had been here. He should have been able to protect him, but here he was now, curled around his son’s dead body. He had failed to protect him, failed to keep him alive. If he hadn’t been here, it would have been different; he couldn’t have possibly been to blame. But he was here, he could have stopped it, he should have stopped it. Darkblaze began to spiral, wondering where he went wrong, berating himself over and over for failing to protect his son, his love, one of the only family he had left. He sank deeper and deeper into the dark thoughts, going over the events leading up to this moment over and over from every possible angle, reliving his actions and inactions, what he did, should have done, could have done differently. It was dangerous, toxic thinking, but he couldn’t escape it. Why should he? His son was dead, and he was at fault. He was supposed to protect him, keep him safe, why couldn’t he do that?
Darkblaze wailed again, the agony of his son’s death and the pain of his own self-hatred filling him past the brim and exploding outward by way of his mouth. His calls filled the clearing, even as the fighting around him continued. He was in agony, and he almost prayed that StarClan would take him, too. Almost. The only thing that prevented him from seeking his own death was thoughts of his daughter. Ebonypaw didn’t deserve to be an orphan, and she didn’t deserve a father too consumed by grief and pain to raise her. With a great effort, Darkblaze began to pull himself together. He needed to be strong. For Ebonypaw, if not for himself. With thoughts of his last remaining kit guiding him, Darkblaze gathered up all the errant, toxic, dangerous thoughts, wrangled them into a shadowed corner of his mind, and locked them away. They would do him no good tonight, nor anytime soon, and were best left alone. Cautiously, he began clearing away his thoughts, sweeping his mind clean. His eyes had fallen closed ages ago, which typically made his meditations easier, and he eased himself into his typical routine. He focused on his breathing first, dragging it out of the shaky, inconsistent rhythm and into a slow, deep, even pattern. His thoughts started to fall away, and his muscles hesitantly began to relax. Occasionally, a tremor would pass through him, threatening to break the dams he was building around his pain, but he persevered, making sure everything was secure.
Only after his mind was clear did he dare to move. Carefully, painstakingly, he began to extract himself from the rapidly cooling body beside him. His bones ached, and his joints protested the actions, as his mind tried to rebel against him leaving Shadepaw. He consoled himself as best he could: he wasn’t leaving him, instead moving to be better able to protect himself for his daughter. The dark tom rose slowly, the wound in his shoulder a dull ache for now. It was only after he managed to get upright that he dared open his eyes, taking a steeling breath beforehand.
Shadepaw lay half-curled on the ground at his paws, eyes closed and face relaxed. Were it not for the blood, the broken bones, the torn skin and exposed flesh, he might have been sleeping. Darkblaze nearly scoffed. There was no way any cat could be fooled that his son was sleeping. The fox had wrought horrendous damage to the young tom, and his death had not been a quick or easy one. Darkblaze heaved a deep sigh. Shadepaw wanted nothing more than to become a great warrior, and now would never have that chance. It was a shattering thought, but there would be time to mourn later. Right now, there was the not-so-small matter of the foxes still terrorizing the Gathering. Darkblaze lowered his head to give his lost child one final nuzzle and gentle lick, blinking away the emotion threatening to spill forth from his eyes.
The dark NightClan warrior straightened fully, yellow-gold eyes narrowing sharply as they raked over the clearing before him. Warriors of all Clans were still battling the five foxes; not one had foe had retreated or been killed yet, though broken bodies of warriors and apprentices alike dotted the ground. The bite wound in his shoulder made itself known once again, throbbing and sending pulses of pain down his right foreleg. Darkblaze pushed the pain to the back of his mind, though; there were more pressing matters to deal with. The flow of blood had slowed considerably, but he didn’t doubt it would resume again if he exerted himself too much. There was no time to find a healer, and if he did, he’d more than likely be sidelined. Better to push through the pain and contribute to the war effort.
A sharp cry to his left notified him of a battle taking place within range; the three warriors he had led into battle against Kayo were still at it, all three looking a touch ragged. With a fierce cry, Darkblaze launched himself back into battle against the fox that stole his son away, lending strong paws and an iron determination to the three flagging warriors.
3,050 words.
be the one to light your way, bring you home
NIGHTCLAN. WARRIOR. 54 MOONS.
