Chapter Text
A middle-aged tortoiseshell she-cat laid in a moon-washed clearing, her fur glowing in the white light. A light breeze whisked her fur, rolling over the hills and swaying the grass. Her eyes flashed open; they glittered with starlight, and she realized where she was. Where she wasn’t supposed to be - not yet. As she sat up, her heart lurched with disappointment.
“Specklelight.” A gentle voice called from the tall grasses. The tortoiseshell turned her head to see a slender young she-cat pad her way over. Her ginger fur twinkled and swirled, always in motion, but her playful eyes twinkled the most. “I did not expect to see you here so early,” she said.
“Neither did I,” Speckelight muttered, before rubbing her cheek with the other she-cat. “It’s good to see you, Flowerslip.”
Flowerslip pulled away, and her eyes filled with worry. Specklelight’s breath caught in her throat, keeping her silent. “I wish I came with good news, though. But I guess death doesn’t go how you expect it. I assume you know what happened tonight.”
Specklelight nodded solemnly, folding her tail neatly over he paws.
“And you know whom .”
The mottled she-cat let out a sigh. “Unfortunately. Is it something that went wrong in her training? Was there something I should have done differently?” she asked, fear edging her voice.
Flowerslip shook her head. “A cat’s destiny falls into their own paws. They are entirely in control, and not even their family or closest mentor can prevent it. This is the path she chose to follow, regretfully, but there’s nothing we can do to change it, not even StarClan.”
Specklelight flattened her ears against her head. “What do you mean? There must be something that will spoil her plans!”
“We know a lot about the Clans,” Flowerslip said gently. “But we cannot see everything that lies ahead.”
“You knew she would turn on us.” Specklelight’s fur rose on her back as she hissed. “Why didn’t you warn me?”
Flowerslip looked at her old apprentice and sighed. She always had a sharp tongue, and never feared speaking her mind, even with StarClan. She brushed her tail on her friend’s back soothingly and met her fiery gaze, eyes locking. “There was nothing we could do. As a medicine cat, you should know this, Specklelight,” she murmured.
The tortoiseshell stared a few moments longer, then sighed and sat back down. “Then what do you suggest we do? Just let her destroy the Clans from the inside out?” she asked, tail lashing. “It’s what she’s wanted for so long, and now we know not even murder will stop her.”
Flowerslip‘s gaze lowered. “She will be stopped. I know that much. But her damage will already be done, and numerous cats will die that don’t need to,” she said. “However, there is a sort of prophecy that may ease your fears.
“The rotting tree will splatter blood, but its reaching branches will be dripping in the same blood. At the end, one branch will overcome and separate, killing the tree for good.”
Specklelight frowned. “I don’t understand. The branch is rotting as well, how can it be of any use to us? And what do trees even have to do with this?”
“It’s vague, I know, but this is the prophecy that’s been given to us,” Flowerslip said. “But no matter what devastation the Clans go through in the next few seasons, we must remember this prophecy. The rotting tree will be killed.”
Specklelight narrowed her eyes but nodded. “Who will you give this prophecy to? It can’t be to WindClan; their medicine cat won’t listen.”
Flowerslip beckoned with her tail down to the river. The two she-cats briskly walked side by side down the hillside, Specklelight’s whiskers quivering with anticipation. The river was moving slowly, pushed by the breeze, and the moon reflected perfectly onto the water, broken occasionally by small waves.
The medicine cats rested on the bank and stared into the depths. Flowerslip broke the surface with her paw, causing a pattern of ripples. They revealed a small brown tabby tom, curled up in his nest, his flanks rising and falling. Around him were piles of herbs, laid out to dry on the ground.
Specklelight flicked her ear. “That’s Smallfern. What does RiverClan have to do with WindClan’s problems?”
Flowerslip heaved a sigh. “It won’t just be WindClan’s problem. This will affect all the Clans if she gains enough power. However, it will most directly affect RiverClan. We hope it will stop there,” she said. She swept her tail over the tom’s reflection, washing it away. “I will send him this prophecy. Hopefully he can change something.”
In RiverClan’s camp, Smallfern awoke from his dream, eyes wide and breath heavy. Fear shuddered along his spine as he looked around the medicine cat den, in case anyone else was there. Luckily it was only his apprentice Sunpaw, still asleep with her tail over her muzzle. Smallfern sighed, then pulled himself out of his nest and sat outside his den, staring at the moon overhead.
Flowerslip had sent him a prophecy. She was WindClan’s medicine cat when he was an apprentice, many moons ago. Why had she come to him, out of all cats? How important was this prophecy to RiverClan, or even all the Clans? It was so vague, how could he possibly come to a conclusion from that?
The breeze ruffled Smallfern’s fur. He let it sweep over him for a bit longer, then went back into his den and fell back to sleep. No StarClan cat came to him again that night, but Flowerslip’s words still rang through his mind in his dreams.
The rotting tree will splatter blood, but its reaching branches will be dripping in the same blood. At the end, one branch will overcome and separate, killing the tree for good.