Darkness befell the cavern, as a pitch black sheen filled the opened stone camber and sent chilling gusts sweeping into the stale air. Fox lengths below, rested a shallow pool glistening with fluorescents, illuminating with its faint luminance, giving way the smooth rocky walls that soared overhead. Hesitating to reveal themselves, five dark silhouettes shifted along the surrounding ledge overhanging the water’s shore, heads peering down into the hazy mist before them. A flash of emerald eyes stepped forwards into the eerie light, showing only her dusty-brown muzzle in the rest of their wake.

“She’s the one,” the Abyssinian she-cat began, curling her thin and chocolate tipped tail around small paws. In the thick fog that shrouded the body of water, she could vaguely make out the image of a little ebony kitten. “I’m almost certain this is the kit we’ve been looking for.”

Two more cats, Leon and Specter made themselves known, allowing their shapes to come into the light.

“Nothing’s for certain, Lynx. Not at this point in time,” meowed the enormous tawny cat Leon, staring back at her steadily.

 “But she’s different,” Lynx argued. “I’ll prove it to you.”

“There is nothing else to prove,” interrupted another voice.

Lynx turned to see Zen, a thin tom with unusual deep grey dappled spots splattered across his pelt.

“We’ve done enough meddling already,” he murmured.

“But Zen, you can’t ignore the ominous message that Starclan it’s self has given us,” heaved a smoky-black wirehair she-cat much feebler than the other four.

“Specter, that’s just some old kit’s story,” snarled Arsenic, an undersized brunet tom, positioned not far off from Zen.

The elderly she-cat ignored his protest. “And because of such insolence –because of our mistake– the clans will be the ones who will pay the price,” she went on. “A great torrent will sweep into the valley, which began many, many moons ago and will resurface breaking old ties that formed over centuries. A single lightning strike will set the forest ablaze in sea of fire that will engulf the clans: Wind and Lightning, Water and Fire will wage war, and will destroy each other. The valley would be no more.”

“Lightning never strikes twice,” muttered Zen, though it didn’t travel farther than his own ears.

“Yes, yes we’ve heard this story many times,” a scornful mew broke in. “But who’s to know if it even means anything at all?”

“Oh, is that so, Arsenic? I assume you have a better proposal then?” she demanded.

Lynx twisted towards Specter, then back to Arsenic.

“Actually, I do,” the tom snorted. “For all we know it could be just a farce; a legend and nothing more. And besides, who knows what that bat-crazy old she-cat comes up with anyways.”

The dusty colored she-cat shot him an icy glare, but he only seemed to overlook it.

 “All I’m saying is: we shouldn’t hang all of our hopes on one kitten,” he pointed out in a much cooler tone. “There will always be more kittens anyways, and more chances.”

Zen spun to Lynx, who was sitting a few tail lengths away, “Even if what you say is true, it’s too much of a risk to take.”

“I concur,” Arsenic dipped his head in agreement. “It’s too soon to make any rash decision like this, especially since after that slip-up we made last time. If it hadn’t of been for Specter, I’m sure that we–”

 

Leon gave the young tom a threatening stare and he promptly shut his mouth.

“If everything were up to you Arsenic, we wouldn’t be making any progress at all.” Spector spat, eyes blazing with anger. “We’d still be sitting here pondering over what we should do when cats outside these very walls are losing their lives every day!”

“That’s enough!” Leon drew his lips back into a hideous roar, echoing in the stony cavity, silencing anyone who dared to challenge. “We’re wasting precious time here bickering amongst ourselves, we need to focus on the matter at paw.”

 “Yes, this is our duty, is it not?” Lynx went on with her debate. “Starclan gave us this place and we should use it to the best of our ability and for the best of the clans.” It was fact, and no one could disagree with that statement

 “Now… I have a hunch,” she ushered.

“A hunch,” repeated Arsenic, rolling his eyes, but Lynx paid no attention to him.

The she-cat flicked her tail to the water, and stood to her paws. “If what you say is true, and this storm –or whatever it might be– is in fact on its way like you said, Specter; there will be no one to protect the clans against it.”

“What about the other cats who have also the gift?” Zen purposed. “They are certainly capable of defending their own clans and they have always been able to pull through the harshest of measures.”

“But what good is it when all these cats are dead!” Spector exclaimed, springing to her feet.

 “Lest I remind you that it was this gift that nearly decimated the clans before and caused the war that started this whole mess!” Arsenic countered.

“Honestly, the way I see it, we don’t have a choice here,” Lynx stated bluntly, facing up to the tom, gaze intensifying. “She’s our only hope and if we do this now, there might be a chance for them.” She then gave them all brief stern glances. “We can save the valley clans.”

 

The cave fell silent, remaining quiet as the cats exchanged worrisome looks.

 “I say we should cast it to a vote,” Leon suggested, breaking the silence.

Zen nodded, “Fair enough.”

“Very well,” the lion meowed deeply.

For once Arsenic had nothing to say about it and the others didn’t seem to question either.

“Then if there are no objections, raise your paw if you are with Lynx’s proposal,” Leon directed, “And keep your paw down if you are not.”

The cats turned to each other’s left and right, making sure what they had in mind before they made any final decisions.

At last, Lynx’s paw rose first, and not too long afterwards did Leon’s and Spector’s. The only cats left were Zen and Arsenic. A three out of five.

“That settles it then,” Zen meowed coolly, however it was apparent to Lynx that he was conflicted about the outcome.

 “Fox-dung!” Arsenic hissed and punted a pebble against the smooth rock walls, ricocheting it down into the subtle pool.

Lynx couldn’t help but give a smirk in amusement. For a mouth like that, he deserves defeat.

While Arsenic had his fit, Lynx and the rest of the cats started down the slope at the opposite end of the outcrop, which fed into the chamber floor below. Arsenic let out an irritable grunt, then followed the rest of them, piling into the cramped space around the shores of the pond.

Gathered together, the cats situated themselves at least a few fox lengths between each other as they lined up beside the body of water.

Closing her eyes, the auburn cat inhaled deeply and concentrated with Spector, Zen, and Leon following in suit. Slowly, the symbol at their foreheads lit with a glowing aura.  In reluctance, Arsenic let out a hoarse groan and soon did the same.

Once joined in unison, suddenly the cats’ muscles tensed, eyes gaping simultaneously with an abrupt blinding radiance beaming out of their sockets. Slowly, in the midst of the brume below, as the new kit took its first breaths of life, an oddly shaped birthmark, similar to a swirl with an opened end was formed on its forehead. The kit furrowed its closed eyes in discomfort as if it had noticed the change.

The deed had been done.

 

Relaxing, all the cats’ symbols dimmed, and they once again returned to their normal selves. Lynx let out a sigh of relief at the sight, but the moment of tranquility was short.

Approaching the Chocolate Abyssinian, Arsenic sneered, “You better be right about this, or on your head be it.” Lashing his tail in frustration, he pushed past her and vanished into the winding channels.

With that, the other two cats, Specter and Zen, parted their ways without another word, melting away into the penumbra. Yet Lynx stayed behind, eyeing the new-born kit carefully, worry written on her face.

“Would you really put your faith behind this kit?” The golden-maned lion asked, eyes fixed attentively at the pool in his wake.

“Absolutely,” she didn’t hesitate to answer, but inside, Lynx couldn’t help but feel weighing guilt.

What if the cat they had just chosen was only going to cause more trouble? What if the clans’ destruction was inevitable? What if Zen and Arsenic were right? It was a terrifying thought, and Lynx tried to push it out of her mind.

“Well, we’ve been wrong before,” the colossal gilt cat stated uneasily, breaking her train of thought.

“And I pray we won’t be wrong again.”

 

____________________________________

Nightfall seeped into the valley below, casting menacing shadows onto a golden sea of tussocks whipping in the wind. The moon had refused to show its face, and had cloaked itself in dense low-hanging cloud cover. Down at the base of the hillside, a dark outline emerged out into the open. Alone, and afraid, a sooty jet-black she-cat with matted and untidy fur bounded across the wide stretch of bush and dived into the undergrowth of a miniature plot of flat trees.

Away from the opened space, she was positive the brackens would hide her well, or at least long enough to stay here for the night. Scanning somber eyes along the opening in the dense thicket, she took a few hesitant paces before focusing her gaze on the narrow burrow beneath the roots of a tree. Not wasting a single moment, she scrambled into the make-shift den, wriggling through the thick roots to reach solid ground.

Appearing into the shallow ditch, she had carried a small clump of fur between her teeth, and gently placed it in the center of the den. It was a kitten, –a tiny shadowy she-cat with a murky complexion and white maceral-tabby markings that streaked her smooth, lithe coat.

Wrapping her kitten in a blanket of warmth made of her own body, she sheltered it from the harsh winds that leaked into the pit.

The fluffy mass let out a high pitch squeal as it shivered, cold and scared, stirring and squirming. Spotting this, the young mother nuzzled her kit, “It’s alright,” she reassured. “You’re okay; we’re safe now.

Or at least I hope so. Peeking her head out a few times, she still refused to let her guard down. Who knows what kind of uncanny faces they may stumble upon.

Giving the kitten a few swift licks atop the head, it seemed to soothe its quivering a bit, but even she couldn’t doubt it was freezing. It was in the dead-set of Leaf bare, and though the area is prone to a milder winter, it’s still no place for a newborn kit, but she had no choice.

“By Goldenlotus, where is that old tom?” she snarled in annoyance, growing even warier as the minutes passed by. “Soon enough it’ll be sunrise if he doesn’t hurry.”

Looking down at her kitten, she saw an odd marking on its forehead that she’d never noticed before. Puzzled, she began pawing at. What is this? Too symmetrical to be just any old marking, it wracked her mind. Maybe it’s a bug, then again, she was convinced she never even let her kit touch the ground outside the safety of the den. Or maybe she was so exhausted that she was imagining things but it just wouldn’t go away. 

“Don’t linger too long Rhea, the patrols might find you and track your scent all the way from the outskirts.” Rhea spun around, putting the thought in the back of her mind. There above her stood a heavy footed tom, resting at the slope entrance.

“You know you could just say ‘Hello’ for once in your life,” she complained. “And I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t of kept dragging your tail like some old hag”, the she-cat retorted.

“Well, we both wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d of just heeded my warning like I told you to, now wouldn’t we,” he snapped back. “So that makes two of us.”

Rhea sighed, “Rowan, I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be, but you know what would happen if…”

“If they found out?” Cutting her off, the older tom stumbled in, limping towards the she-cat. “Don’t you think I already know this? Why else would I be here?” he continued. “Trust, if I had something more important to do, I would be doing it by now.”

I suppose that means he cares, she thought. In his own convoluted way.

Rhea gave him an empty smile in reply then eyed the kitten once more.

“Kit seems thin.” Rowan beckoned to its small body with a slight chin flick.

“Yeah, well she’s all I have now,” the she-cat snapped back. “I almost wasn’t sure she was going to make it.”  Tenderly snuggling her kitten closely, the small cat purred in contentment and fell gently asleep against its mother. “It’s a miracle she’s even survived…against all odds.”

The older tom couldn’t help but feel pity for her, resting a sorrowful gaze on the she-cat.

“Promise me Rowan,” she rasped, voice coming out as a soft mournful wailing, “promise me that you’ll take care of her. You’re the only cat I can trust.”

“I’ll do what I must.” He obliged, nodding curtly.

She looked gloomily at the kit, then raised her head to the russet tom. “I owe you one.”

Scooping up the kitten by its scruff he shook his head, “No need; you’re practically family. If there were any other way to help, I would.”

Though his words were soothing to extent Rhea couldn’t shake the anxiousness.

 “Now then, you better get to it,” he motioned with a flick of the tail, “the patrols are usually out by third-moon. Just keep on your way south towards the edge of the valley, there lies a tunnel that leads you directly to the outskirts. If you can make it there by day-break, you might have a fighting chance.”

Rising to her paws, Rhea placed her chin on the older cat’s stiffened shoulder.

“Thank you Rowanoak. For everything.”

“You’ve always been there for me and I won’t forget what you’ve done,” she replied shallowly. “Make her into a great warrior. One all of Starclan and Goldenlotus will remember.”

Giving one last look at her kit with the she-cat’s vivid violet eyes, she disappeared out of the den and into the night.