Silentstar

[Silentstar]

Name: Silentstar
Age: 73 moons
Gender: Female
Clan/Group/etc.: Rogue
Rank: N/A
Current Status: Doing StarClan's will.
Special Abilities:
She received the nine extra lives of a leader from StarClan. How many she has left she keeps secret, though if you read her biography it indicates she has at most five and likely has less. She also received many dreams from StarClan that she can only remember when she needs to, and there are quite a few that she hasn't remembered yet.

Strengths:
Fighting - She's an extremely capable and experienced fighter - cats who can beat her in a fight are few and far between.
Sensitivity - She's extraordinarily sensitive to her surroundings, able to pick up very faint scents in difficult conditions, among other things. She's also very quick and accurate at figuring out the existence and nature of dangerous situations.
Silence - To partly compensate for her inability to hear, she's learned to walk almost silently and has a tendency to do so even when she doesn't need to.
Knowledge - She has extensive knowledge of hunting, fighting, the Clan way of life, and she also has some very basic herbal knowledge.
Wisdom - She's a clever cat, though not a genius by any means. She learns comparatively quickly and can be very insightful at times, but her strokes of intuition are slow in coming and a matter of putting together what she already knows rather than coming up with brilliant ideas of her own.
Faith - She's unwavering in her belief and trust in StarClan and the warrior code.

Weaknesses:
Hearing - She's completely deaf and unable to hear even the loudest of sounds. And though that seldom stops her from sensing danger unless the only clue really is a sound, that's because she keeps herself in a state of extreme alertness. When she's in a situation where she feels safe enough to relax she becomes much more vulnerable than the average cat.
Age - She's definitely feeling her age, though she still has enough strength left to take care of herself and she still fights well. But she has to rely on her mind more than her body and it gets worse every moon.

Appearance:
She's just slightly smaller than the average cat and very lean, but what weight she has seems to be entirely muscle. Her medium length hair grows in black but nearly all of it is sunbleached dark brown except for around the face, legs, and underbelly, and her eyes are a pale yellow that contrasts sharply with her face. Her fur is flecked here and there with gray hairs, especially around the mouth, hinting at her age. Her pelt is tattered and torn even though she keeps it well groomed, suggesting that she's been living roughly for quite some time.

Personality:
Stubborn, fierce when she has to be, gentle when it's needed. Though she takes orders well, she was born to give them, having that particular combination of confidence, charisma, and strength that makes for a good leader. Though she's a very skilled cat and she knows it, she's not overly prideful of her abilities - the way she sees it, her skills aren't a matter of her being better than any other cat, they're a matter of her being busier than any other cat. She's also infallibly loyal to any group or cat she ties herself to, doing her best to help them however she can.

Biography:
For the extremely long story of how she came here, see the replies to this thread. Her history since arriving in these lands will be written here as soon as there's anything to write.

Family:
Father - Flintstar
Mother - Jumptalon
Siblings - Archstar, Pearear, and Mouthnose
Mate - None
Kits - None

Friends:
Mentors - Stumpyfrost, Mumblebelly

Enemies:
None

Other Relationships:
None

[Silentstar]

“Thank you, Brightclaw,” Flintstar purred as his deputy helped him up onto the Highlog. Brightclaw nodded her head and turned to join the rest of the Clan in the clearing as Flintstar’s yowled, “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highlog for a Clan meeting.”

As they waited for the Clan to gather, Brightclaw watched Flintstar thoughtfully. Their leader’s age was finally catching up to him and she could almost swear that she could tell the difference each morning. Some power-hungry cats in her position would be pleased by this, while it would make the timid nervous at the idea of becoming leader soon. But Brightclaw was neither; instead she was saddened by the mere thought of the upcoming loss because as Flintstar’s daughter whatever ambition she might have had was easily laid aside at the reality that any further advancement would mean losing something nearly as dear to her as her Clan.

But aside from that Brightclaw wasn’t lacking in confidence at the thought of leading the Clan. She was practically running the Clan already, thanks to Flintstar’s failing health. The thought of suggesting that he retire hadn’t crossed her mind, however, because even as his body was failing him Flintstar’s mind was still as sharp and clear as it was in his youth. Perhaps even more than that, thanks to his years of wisdom. And even though Brightclaw acted on his behalf more and more, it was still his orders that she followed. But even as she followed them, she was learning. She often felt like she was an apprentice again, with Flintstar as mentor, only this time she was learning how to lead instead of how to be a warrior.

And she also had at the very least the begrudging respect of every member of the Clan, in spite of the shaky start to her position as deputy. When the previous deputy, Fallowtooth, had died defending the Clan from a badger, there were more than a few quiet grumblings about the leader playing favorites with his kin when making the choice, but Brightclaw eventually managed to silence them by performing her new duties well enough for long enough that even the more vocal protesters had to admit that she was a good cat for the job even if a few continued to quietly express their doubts about Flintstar’s true motives.

What she was less confident about was the opinion of a different Clan: StarClan. For though she was fiercely loyal to the warrior code and believed both Flintstar and Mintfoot, the clan’s medicine cat, when they spoke of dreams and other things both seen and felt, she’d never personally received any sign of her own that she was at all certain came from StarClan. A part of her worried that the stars were silent to her because she’d done something wrong – goodness knows that she’d made any number of mistakes that she could pin that on, for though she had matured into a strong and capable cat she had been quite rebellious in her youth. But without their acceptance she would make a poor leader indeed.

Her thoughts were soon set aside as the meeting began, and she purred quietly as Flintstar called for the kits of her sister, Pearear, and eased his way off the Highlog to meet them underneath it. The Clan was in a difficult phase – they had lost many warriors during the past several seasons to accident, illness, and injury so their numbers were few, especially after Shiningstem joined the queens. But those who remained were strong, and now with Pearear’s litter old enough to become apprentices and her return to the ranks of the warriors the Clan had every reason to expect things to turn around. In fact, Flintstar had remarked as he was choosing mentors for Buzzardkit and Mothkit that there were very few warriors left to choose from because most of them already had an apprentice – a sure sign that the Clan was growing quickly.

“I call upon the spirits of my warrior ancestors to look upon these two kits.” Flintstar began, “Buzzardkit and Mothkit, Pearear tells me that both of you are ready to become apprentices. And so from this day until you’re ready to receive your warrior names, you will be known as Buzzardpaw and Mothpaw.” Both of the new apprentices’ eyes were shining with excitement and Pearear was glowing with pride.

Then Flintstar turned to one of the two warriors who had subtly placed themselves near the front of the gathered Clan. “Owlheart, you have proven to be a warrior of strength and wisdom for many seasons. You will mentor Mothpaw, and I expect you to teach her everything you know,” he continued. Brightclaw had to hide her look of amusement, as Mothpaw’s excitement suddenly turned to such surprise and fear that she half expected the new apprentice to run and hide behind Pearear. But that reaction wasn’t unexpected; Owlheart was well-known for her gruff demeanor and sharp tongue, but Brightclaw couldn’t think of a more dedicated cat and she’d already mentored more than one good warrior. Fortunately, Mothpaw managed to gather her courage and touch noses with her mentor instead of fleeing the scene.

The Clan’s attention quickly turned expectantly towards Flintstar, who was now looking at a different warrior. “Archleap, you are ready for another apprentice. You learned well what Leopardblaze taught you and have become a warrior whose loyalty and courage strengthens us all, and I expect you to pass those on to Buzzardpaw,” he meowed. And in direct contrast to Mothpaw, Buzzardpaw’s surprise seemed to be one of pure joy as Archleap was a very popular cat in the Clan, especially among the younger members. But while Brightclaw knew that Mothpaw would discover that her mentor was kinder than she appeared, she knew that Buzzardpaw would learn that his was much more demanding.

With the business of the evening over, the Clan began to surround the new apprentices and call them by their new names, when suddenly they were interrupted by a cry from Reedspring, one of the elders. She was looking at the patch of sky overhead not blocked by the treetops and as the Clan watched a star shot all the way across the sky, blazing furiously for a brief moment before fading almost entirely and then flaring up again even brighter as it disappeared behind the treetops. “It’s a sign from StarClan,” murmured Mintfoot, her quiet words easily heard by all in the stunned silence.

The eyes of the Clan shifted to her, for it was the Clan’s medicine cat who had the strongest bond with StarClan and was best able to interpret their signs. Mintfoot stared at the point where the star had disappeared for a moment longer as if the sky hadn’t finished speaking to her before she mewed, “The silent star will rise only to fall, only to rise even higher in a far off place.” There was another moment of quiet only broken by a few whispers as the Clan pondered those words, but it was soon interrupted by Badgerpaw loudly asking, “What does that mean?” Turning towards the impatient apprentice, Mintfoot answered, “I don’t know. But it travelled all the way across the sky – it may have been meant for one of the other Clans, or for all Clans, or for one cat. It did not seem to be about anything dangerous...” The medicine cat’s words faded into a thoughtful silence.

The rest of the Clan, however, were starting to speculate among themselves about it, and when Brightclaw turned an ear to listen, there seemed to be no shortage of theories:

“Perhaps it’s a warning about an enemy that will come back after we defeat them,” meowed one, only to be answered with, “But she said it wasn’t dangerous, and when it rises again it will be far away. And since the sign was a star, then surely it was about a leader.”

Another cat quietly mewed, “Maybe it’s a sign that Flintstar will die soon – he’s a star that has risen, and will fall, and then he’ll rise again to join StarClan?”

“I didn’t need a sign to tell me that!” came the reply, and Brightclaw quickly turned to frown at the cat that said those words. Dewpaw looked properly ashamed of himself when he discovered that he was under the scrutiny of the Clan’s deputy, so Brightclaw said nothing as headed back to the Highlog. But as she walked, she heard some cat say her name and she turned an ear to hear the rest of that conversation.

“Brightclaw? What do you mean?”

“Well, if she becomes the next leader, then she’ll be a rising star. I can’t work out what would make her a silent star or what the rest of it means, but maybe...”

Frowning to herself, Brightclaw stopped listening and decided that it was useless to try and guess the meaning of it now. There were too many possibilities and not enough to go on. Perhaps it would become clearer as time went on. But she fervently hoped that it wasn’t about her; falling didn’t sound like a good thing, no matter what it meant.

---

It was only a few sunrises later that Flintstar joined StarClan, and though Brightclaw felt prepared to take leadership of the Clan, she wasn’t nearly as prepared to face the loss of Flintstar as she might have hoped. Still, she was able to save her grief for those moments when there wasn’t work to be done, even though they didn’t come very often. She called upon Archleap to be her deputy, sending out another round of rumors about favoritism because he was her brother, but with so few warriors to choose from she didn’t have too many other options – the rest of the warriors were either too old to welcome the extra work, too recently out of their apprenticeship to handle the responsibility, or her sisters. And both of them liked to keep two feet in the warrior’s den and two in the nursery.

And as soon as that detail was in place she nervously set off to share tongues with StarClan and discovered that her worries had been over nothing; she was not only accepted but welcomed gladly by her departed friends and kin – and of course Flintstar was the first in line, looking as young and strong as he’d been when she was a kit. But there was also her mother, Jumptalon; Fallowtooth, the previous deputy; Webfern, who’d succumbed to greencough last leafbare; and many others. And nine of them granted her the nine lives of a leader, which was a painful process overall, but she could feel the new strength from the tips of her whiskers to the tip of her tail. Then she received her new name: Brightstar.

The next couple moons were relatively peaceful ones, aside from an argument or two about the borders with the other Clans and who was or who wasn’t stealing prey from whom, but that was to be expected. Shiningstem had her kits, while Mouthnose’s only kit, Mousekit, was killed by an owl after sneaking away from Mouthnose and out to the middle of the clearing one night. The Clan grieved with her for the loss, but Shiningstem encouraged Mouthnose to stay with her in the nursery, claiming that there was no way she’d be able to manage four kits by herself and that seemed to help more than anything. But all in all, that didn’t make for a very eventful leaffall, which Brightstar was grateful for because it made it easier for her to adjust to her new position. From time to time the shooting star came to her mind, but with no further hint about what it might mean she could only set those thoughts aside.

The peace was broken, however, near the end of leaffall when a patrol she was leading was ambushed by one of the neighboring Clans. In the course of the fighting Brightstar and her opponent fell down a steep hill and she hit her nose on a large rock. She was dazed at first, but she quickly shook it off and went back into the fray and led her warriors to victory.

“I’ll be fine – I didn’t even lose a life,” she told Mintfoot later as the medicine cat treated the wounds of those involved in the fight. “I have a headache, but that’s to be expected.”

“I could give you poppy seed for the pain,” Mintfoot offered.

“No,” answered Brightstar, “It isn’t bad and I would like my head clear in case anything else happens.”

Nothing did, though Brightstar was annoyed when she woke the next morning to find that her headache hadn’t gotten any better. It hadn’t gotten any worse, however, so she insisted on joining in on the patrols as usual - with as few warriors in the clan as there were, resting in the camp while there was work to be done because of a little headache seemed selfish. Her headache hadn’t improved by evening, and she reluctantly accepted a poppy seed to help her sleep. That night she awoke when her headache became much worse, and she found herself shivering. And as she called out for someone to fetch Mintfoot, she found that her thoughts were slow and confused. But the medicine cat came quickly and Brightstar yielded herself to her care.

What happened next seemed to pass in a haze to Brightstar. Her headache was severe enough that Mintfoot had to give her a steady stream of poppy seeds, which also made her sleep, and even when she was awake her thoughts were so muddled that she couldn’t be certain what was happening. But the scent of Mintfoot and Twigpaw, her apprentice, were always strong so she wasn’t afraid. And she was vaguely aware of being gently encouraged to eat and drink food, water, and medicines.

When she finally woke with a clear head, she had no idea how much time had passed, but the moment she so much as wiggled her tail Mintfoot was there and busied herself checking Brightstar over, a mixture of relief and continued worry on her face. But suddenly the medicine cat froze and thrust her face into Brightstar’s view, her mouth moving though Brightstar couldn’t make out the words.

“What? I can’t...” Brightstar mewed before stopping in sudden realization. She hadn’t heard Mintfoot walking around, couldn’t hear the wind outside her den... She couldn’t even hear her own words as she spoke them. “I can’t hear anything!”

Mintfoot look shocked for a split second but then calmly nodded her head. It would take something much more than that to fluster a medicine cat for too long. She started meowing again, but this time very slowly and Brightstar found that she could just manage to guess at what the words were: “Maybe it will come back when you recover.”

Silently asking StarClan for that to be true, Brightstar asked, “How long?”

“A quarter moon,” Mintfoot replied.

“A quarter moon?” Brightstar asked, certain that she’d misunderstood, but when Mintfoot nodded she added, “It must be near the full moon.”

“The Gathering is tonight,” Mintfoot confirmed, hesitating for a moment before adding, “You lost more than one life.”

“Yes, I remember,” Brightstar replied, for though she had the sense that she’d had many dreams while she was sick, most of them were so hazy that she couldn’t quite recall them. But a few were clearer than anything else that happened while she was sick, and in those she was with StarClan, watching a life leave her. Flintstar had been there, reassuring her that she would recover, and telling her that she must be strong.

Forcing that from her mind, Brightstar mewed, “I must speak with Archleap.”

Nodding to that, Mintfoot added, “But after that you will rest” before heading out of the den.

Brightstar was hardly going to argue with that, especially after a wave of exhaustion came over her while she waited for Archleap – it was clear that while she was well on her way to mending that she was far from being well yet. When he entered the den she could tell by his calm expression that Mintfoot had told him everything; he was nearly as good as Mintfoot at keeping his fears and worries about her from getting in his way and for that she was grateful. Being worried over was the last thing that she wanted, and he knew that.

“Yes?” Archleap asked, confirming her guess by the way he placed himself where he was easy to see and speaking slowly, though other than that he acted as though nothing else were amiss.

“Is the Clan doing well?” Brightstar asked, knowing that much could have happened in a quarter moon.

But Archleap nodded quickly and added, “We’ve all been worried about you.”

“I know that they’ve been in good paws.” Brightstar replied, for she knew that Archleap probably knew just as much about leading the Clan as she did. “Mintfoot said that the Gathering is tonight, and you will have to go in my place. You should take every warrior and apprentice you can spare; we can’t afford to appear weak just because I’m not there. Tell the other Clans that I am ill, but am nearly recovered. You can tell our Clan that I’m still not strong enough to see any other cats, but that I will get better soon.”

As Archleap nodded to her instructions, Brightstar got the distinct impression that he’d planned on doing almost exactly that already. She’d chosen well when she’d picked her deputy, regardless of what the rest of the Clan might say. As soon as she dismissed him, Mintfoot appeared; she must have been waiting just outside. And as the medicine cat looked over her again, Brightstar noticed that she seemed to have something on her mind.

“What is it?” Brightstar finally asked when Mintfoot didn’t say anything after several moments.

Hesitating, Mintfoot mewed, “If I go it will tell the other Clans that you don’t need me with you.”

“Go then,” Brightstar answered, “Flintstar told me that I will get better, and I feel like I’ll probably sleep the whole time you’re gone anyway.”

“He did?” Mintfoot asked, her expression suddenly more relieved than Brightstar expected. She must have really been worried behind that mask of calm that she normally wore. “I will have Twigpaw stay behind in case you need anything.”

Nodding her head, Brightstar was hit by another wave of exhaustion and this time she didn’t fight it. It was confusing and disorienting for her to not be able to hear what the other cats were saying, and she reflected that if she hadn’t basically known what they were saying anyway then she’d never have been able to guess. And she’d become so accustomed to being able to hear the subtle sounds around her that the world seemed empty, as if it ended right outside of her den. But though that had horrible implications, she was simply too tired to worry about it right then.

---

As she’d guessed, she didn’t wake up until long after moonhigh, during some dark hour just before the first light of dawn would start to light the sky. And though the moon was full outside, it was dark inside her den, and in those moments between being awake and asleep there were a few heartbeats when the loss of sight and sound make her unsure of where she was. And then some cat touched her, and she startled. It wasn’t until the scent of Mintfoot washed over her that she was able to calm herself from that fright, and she found herself pressing her face into Mintfoot’s side like a frightened kit.

“I couldn’t hear anything,” Brightstar whispered, and though she could neither see nor hear whatever reply Mintfoot may have given, she could feel the vibrations of Mintfoot’s purring and the rasping of her tongue on her ears and bit by bit that soothed her back to sleep.

---

Then next morning Brightstar woke to the scent of a rabbit, and was so ravenously hungry that she was halfway through eating it before she was fully awake. She felt much stronger as well, and was awake for a few hours at a time between brief naps the entire day. The morning after that, she felt well enough to get up and move around a bit in her small den, and Mintfoot was satisfied enough by her progress that she decided to return to her own den and only check up on Brightstar frequently throughout the day.

But despite what Mintfoot had said when she first awoke, her hearing did not seem to be improving at all. It was a source of frustration to her because she was beginning to feel well enough to return to some of her duties, but she had decided not to tell any cat but Archleap, Mintfoot, and Twigpaw about her hearing problem. If it went away, then it would just frighten everyone, and if it didn’t... Well, that seemed to be exactly the problem she was facing.

A couple sunrises later, Archleap was watching her pace around her den for exercise and stopped her to ask, “Do you really need to hear? You seem to understand most of what I say, and it doesn’t dull your claws or stop you from using them.” Brightstar sighed at her deputy’s attempts to comfort her, knowing that he meant well but it only served to frustrate her more – she didn’t need to be reminded that it was only one seemingly small thing that stood between her and what she wanted.

“Pretend there’s an emergency – make something up, and tell me what happened,” Brightstar demanded.

Frowning at that request, Archleap ventured, “A kit fell in the river?”

“That’s too easy,” Brightstar mewed, “Which kit? And which part of the river?”

Sighing at the inevitable, Archleap answered, “Haykit fell in the river by the Twoleg Path.”

Frowning as she watched Archleap’s words, Brightstar did her best even though she knew this exercise would prove her point. “Haykit... fell in the river by the Willow Tree?”

Archleap shook his head but said nothing – there really wasn’t anything for him to say. He knew as well as she did that to be an effective leader she would need to be able to respond to such emergencies quickly. She couldn’t afford to spend the extra time it would take making sure that she understood what was being said to her, and she was certain that one of the other Clans would figure out how to turn that to their advantage.

“And suppose it happened at night,” Brightstar added out loud, “The moonlight has to be just right for me to see what you say. No, I can’t lead like this, and if my hearing was going to return even a little, then I’d expect to be able to hear something by now. Tell the Clan that there will be a meeting at sunset, and tomorrow the two of us will go to the Moonpeak. You should think about who you want to be your deputy before the meeting.”

The slightly wide-eyed look on Archleap’s face when he heard those orders reminded Brightstar of how she had felt the day Flintstar had died – both excited and nervous. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with the loss of kin at the same time as she had.

Archleap finally nodded, and Brightstar was grateful that he didn’t argue. It was hard enough keeping herself convinced that this was necessary, let alone trying to argue the issue with any other cat. “What will you do when we get back?” he asked.

Brightstar hadn’t given that question much thought, because her own situation was so frustrating and miserable to her that she didn’t want to think about it. It was much easier to think about what the Clan needed instead, at least as long as that was her responsibility. “I suppose I’ll have to join the elders,” she answered, “It would be dangerous for me to go on patrols or hunt, but I can still defend the camp.”

Archleap nodded and looked abnormally thoughtful for a moment before he left, but Brightstar assumed that he was pondering his new responsibilities. In the meantime, she tried to think about anything besides herself. She’d never had a strong desire to become the leader, only accepted it when the opportunity had been given to her. All she’d ever really wanted was to be a strong warrior for the Clan, so it wasn’t the loss of her position that she mourned but the loss of her ability to be very useful. The Clan didn’t need another cat who could do nothing but lie around in the camp all day, especially not with leafbare so close.

Instead of dwelling on those troubling thoughts she instead considered what she was going to say to the Clan.

---

Sunset came early during that time of year, and as Brightstar headed into the clearing for the first time since her long illness she noted that most of the Clan were already milling about there. She headed straight for the Highlog, preventing any cat from trying to talk to her before the meeting. Such a conversation, even if it were just to express how good it was to see her well, would be very difficult for her to manage even after she explained her deafness. Even though she was able to communicate with Mintfoot and Archleap, both were very careful and sensitive cats that she knew very well and she couldn’t describe the majority of the rest of the clan that way. Perhaps her sisters would be easier as well, but she couldn’t see how she’d manage to understand any other cat without great difficulty.

Leaping up onto the Highlog, she yowled, “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highlog for a Clan meeting.” Most of the Clan were already there, but she waited several moments for the rest to appear. She used the time to survey the expressions on the faces turned in her direction and saw a mixture of surprise, relief, and curiosity. The surprise was no doubt because it was likely that rumors of her illness became exaggerated when she refused to see any cat besides the deputy and the medicine cat, the relief was from cats who had been worried, and the curious were those who thought that merely announcing her recovery didn’t warrant a meeting. Oh how she wished that the latter were right! But she hadn’t even heard her own yowl, so she knew what she had to do.

As one last cat found a place to sit, Brightstar meowed what she’d been pondering over all afternoon, “As you can see, I have nearly recovered from my recent sickness. I thank StarClan and Mintfoot that I’m still alive - without both I would not have survived. I lost multiple lives as it ran its course.” She saw many wide eyes at that bit of news and thought that she saw a cat or two make a shocked exclamation, but she could see that she still held their attention so she continued, “Also, I have not and I likely will not recover fully. I have been left without my hearing, and without it I’m not able to lead the Clan. Therefore, I am stepping down as leader so that Archleap can take my place. I know that he will serve the Clan as well as I have, if not better. The two of us will travel to Highpeak tomorrow so that I can yield my extra lives to StarClan and he may gain his and his new name.”

This time as she looked at the assembled cats she saw a few puzzled expressions and yowled questions among the surprised and saddened faces, so she glanced at Archleap and jumped off the Highlog to allow him to take over. He’d be able to answer their questions much more easily than she could, and the reality of what she had just done was beginning to set in. As he jumped onto the Highlog and began speaking, she stepped aside to where she could watch the Clan respond to his words. It would have been difficult for her to try and understand him now, meowing normally and further away in the fading light, but by watching the Clan react she could get a sense of it.

But first she spotted her sisters, Pearear and Mouthnose, carefully making their way through the others to her side. She couldn’t help but purr as they wordlessly settled in next to her, communicating comfort and reassurance by sharing their tongues and adding the vibrations of their own purrs to hers. And suddenly, as the two of them listened to Archleap speak while the other watched the Clan, Brightstar knew that everything would somehow turn out alright. It was as if they were all back in the nursery again, warm and safe.

Whatever Archleap was saying, it was working, because the cats who seemed the most upset began to look calmer. And then when the eyes of every cat suddenly went to a very stunned-looking Tinyfur, Brightstar surmised that he was Archleap’s choice for deputy. One that she had to agree with, because though he was still a bit young and every bit as small as his name would suggest, he’d proven in recent moons to be a very competent warrior and a surprisingly clever fighter. And he was also not kin, which would appease everyone who had grumbled over Brightstar and Archleap’s promotions.

After that, the meeting was adjourned, though most of the cats broke up into small groups to discuss what had just happened rather than leaving immediately. That included Brightstar and her sisters, though what they were saying to each other didn’t involve very many words. Though Brightstar put on a tough face they knew that she was upset, and they were upset because she was upset and together they were soothing that upset. Unfortunately, that couldn’t last forever because Archleap eventually finished talking individually to one last cat and made his way over.

“Pearear, Patchsplash is leading the dawn patrol and wants you with her, so you should get some sleep. And Mouthnose, Shiningstem is complaining that she has her paws full,” he meowed rapidly, trying to get the camp in good order before the trip to Highpeak. The three sisters sighed almost as one; two at the never-ending amount of work to be done, and one in mild frustration at how impossible it was to understand anything said that fast. They all gave each other one last lick as they went their separate ways.

“You three...” Archleap meowed, shaking his head. Brightstar couldn’t help but give a mrrow of amusement. Even though the four of them were littermates, the three she-cats had a bond even beyond that that didn’t quite include Archleap and he’d always teased them about it. She knew that he was actually a bit jealous, but he was too ‘tough’ to say so and complaining about it wouldn’t change anything anyway.

“I think you should have one last night in the leader’s den,” he added more seriously, “I can sleep in the warrior’s den.”

“No,” Brightstar protested immediately, “You are the leader now. It’s your den.”

Not about to back down so easily, Archleap pointed out, “But you’re still the leader in StarClan’s eyes until we get to Highpeak.”

Brightstar had to admit that he had a point, but she was just as stubborn, “Perhaps we should both sleep there tonight then. It... gets awfully dark in there.”

That seemed to do the trick, because Archleap quickly agreed to that. Truthfully, she was starting to get over much of her fear of the dark, at least when she knew she was in a safe place, but it made for a good excuse. And she couldn’t allow Archleap to sleep anywhere else now that he’d been named leader – a leader stepping down was extremely rare compared to the usual situation of a leader dying or being killed, so she wanted to make sure that there was no question on any cat’s mind about the proper order of things. Having Archleap sleep with the warriors would not help things at all.

---

It was shortly before dawn when they departed the next morning, pausing only long enough for Archleap to pass some last minute instructions to Tinyfur and to gather Dewpaw and Badgerpaw and Mintfoot. Both of the apprentices had never gone to Highpeak before and they were required to do so before they could become warriors so this seemed like a good opportunity to do so. They didn’t really need such an early start to make it to Moonpeak by moonrise, but Archleap insisted on leaving early so that Brightstar wouldn’t have to push herself.

Mintfoot took the lead while Archleap took the rear, and Brightstar made herself useful by keeping an eye on the apprentices to make sure that they didn’t do anything foolish in their enthusiasm for the trip. There weren’t very many dangers for grown cats in this forest, but there were a handful of dangerous creatures that a cat might run into unexpectedly so some caution was needed. And though it was forbidden for other Clans to stop cats from visiting Highpeak, sometimes they attacked before asking questions or didn’t believe a cat’s reason for being there so it was always better to pass by unnoticed if possible. The journey went smoothly, however, and they were within sight of the Moonpeak just before sunset.

The Moonpeak was at the tip of a very large outcropping of rock, and difficult to climb for any cat who didn’t know the way as only one twisting path led to all the way there. And Brightstar had hoped to never have to climb it again, because once a leader had their lives and their name the only reason to return was if there was trouble. Mintfoot didn’t hesitate to start to make her way up since the climb would be easier for Brightstar while there was still daylight left. At the very top one rock jutted out higher than the others; this was the Moonpeak.

The sun was still visible on the horizon, so Brightstar curled up to wait, trying to keep warm despite the cold wind of the end of leaffall. Dewpaw and Badgerpaw stopped warily at the end of the path, eyeing the peak with wide eyes, and she could see that Mintfoot was talking quietly to them. Archleap sat and watched the sun as it set, looking deeply in thought. And though Archleap had always taken more after Jumptalon in appearance, she thought that she saw a glimmer of Flintstar in him. No, she had no concerns about him leading the Clan.

---

Bit by bit the sun slid over the horizon and the silverpelt came into view. And as if at some unknown signal, Mintfoot turned to Brightstar and Archleap and said, “It’s time.” The two of them approached the peak, lay down next to it, and rested their noses on the cold rock. The chill of it seemed to flood Brightstar for a moment until she opened her eyes.

Brightstar found herself suddenly back in her Clan’s territory, standing in a copse of pine trees which cast dark shadows in the moonlight. But she knew it was a dream because she could hear the quiet sound of a faint breeze blowing through the branches of the trees and the gurgle of a nearby stream. At least she didn’t have to worry about understanding any cat here! And she was not alone – though she expected to see more than just the single large tom she didn’t recognize sitting before her. And even he didn’t seem to be all the way there, for he seemed no more substantial than a thick cloud of smoke.

“Where is everyone?” she asked, “Where is the rest of StarClan?”

“Most of them are watching Archleap receive his lives, I suspect,” he answered, “I offered to deal with you so no other cat need miss it.”

Confused, Brightstar meowed, “But don’t I need to give up my extra lives first? And who are you, anyway?” She thought that she’d see Flintstar again, perhaps ask for his council – this was completely unexpected!

“That,” the tom replied, “Is something we must discuss. And my name is Loststar.”

“Loststar?” Brightstar repeated, “I don’t remember hearing about any cat with that name.”

Loststar purred at that, “I’m not surprised. It was many cycles of the seasons ago that I was among the living, and even most of StarClan doesn’t remember me now. But just because I’m not remembered doesn’t mean that I don’t watch, and I’ve been watching you very closely, Brightstar. It was I who suggested that you be Chosen.”

Brightstar was nearly rendered speechless. This must be one of the ancient ancestors, and he’s taken an interest in her? “Chosen for what?” she asked, mesmerized.

“You already know the answer to that, but you don’t remember,” Loststar replied, “You walked with StarClan for many dreams while you were sick, but you don’t remember them because you learned many things that you can’t be allowed to remember. It’s not for the living to see too far or too clearly into the future, or to know the secrets of StarClan, or to know the path that lies ahead of them. But all of this and more is now in your forgotten dreams, and you will only remember them when you need to.”

The more the tom spoke the more astounded Brightstar became. She wasn’t even sure that she understood much of what he was saying. “But... why?” she asked, not really able to put the many questions floating through her head into words.

“StarClan has a task: a long, difficult one that most cats would fail to do,” Loststar answered, now addressing her many unspoken questions, “One that requires a cat with strength, wisdom, and knowledge beyond that of most cats; and above all, an unfailing loyalty to StarClan and the warrior code. You are that cat, Brightstar. And though you have already agreed to perform this task, now you are at the point of no return where you cannot change your mind, so I must ask you again if you still agree.”

It took Brightstar a long moment wrap her mind around what Loststar was saying, but even when she managed that she could only say, “But how can I say that I agree if I don’t remember what it is you want me to do?”

Loststar’s expression softened. “I know that it’s a difficult thing that I’m asking, so know this: a bargain had to be made within StarClan, for though we are united in many ways we still have our loyalties and prejudices, and all of us had to agree that the task must be done and that you are the cat to do it. And you were told everything about it, the good and the bad. Because of the bargain and the nature of the task, certain sacrifices had to be made: your position, many of your lives, and your hearing. But that is not all. When you begin the task, you will also have to leave your Clan and kin behind – no cat may go with you, and you will never return. And you won’t have the time to find a mate or have any kits of your own. And when you die you will not find yourself among us here, but far away. Too far and too difficult to travel easily, but if you wish to attempt the journey back among the stars you may but not for several turns of the sun after your death. And perhaps by then you will decide to remain there. And yet, despite knowing all of this, you agreed,” he explained.

Blinking in disbelief, Brightstar protested, “I don’t see how I could have agreed to all of that! My hearing, and my kin... What if I refuse now?”

Seemingly unbothered by the question, Loststar answered, “Then you must give up your extra lives. And your hearing can still be healed just enough for you to hear any cat talking loudly, though Archleap will still be leader. That is all that StarClan can do to restore the price you have already paid. But there is one more thing that may help you make this decision; you should now be able to remember when you first agreed to this.”

Frowning, Brightstar searched her memories and found that he was right; she did remember! She was here, sitting in this copse of pine trees, surrounded by StarClan. Flintstar was standing in front of her and asked, “Do you agree to this task?” And with no hesitation she replied, “Yes.” And that was all. She did not remember anything before or after that. But what was surprising to her is what she remembered feeling when she said that one word: excitement, determination, happiness, confidence, and an unaccustomed feeling of calm. Whatever it was that she’d just agreed to, she knew deep within her heart that she wanted it; she couldn’t remember a time when she was more certain of anything. Whatever this task was, she’d have been willing to give up far more than what Loststar had listed!

Holding tightly to the memory as if it was a newborn kit, Brightstar looked back at Loststar and quietly mewed, “I still agree.” Because whatever it was that had made her feel that way, she wanted it, no matter what it was or how hard it would be to get it.

Nodding his head to that as if he knew all along that would be her answer, Loststar meowed, “Then I will tell you what you must do now. You will keep all the lives you have left, and Archstar has now received all nine of his; all of StarClan has agreed to this exception in your case, because you will need them for your task. But before you can begin, you must prepare; StarClan will provide the means for that. And when you are ready, follow the rising sun to the edge of the Clan territories. You will remember what to do after that.”

Brightstar’s ears perked as she noticed that Loststar had called her brother by his new name; his leader ceremony must be nearly finished by now. “How will I know when I’m ready?”

“You will know,” Loststar assured her, “And you may not speak of this to any cat.”

“I understand.” Brightstar mewed.

She was about to ask one last question when a sudden chill came over her and she found herself waking up next to the Moonpeak. Beside her she could see Archstar waking as well, and he had a serious look on his face. Brightstar startled when she felt something touch her shoulder, only to see that it was Mintfoot trying to get her attention. She sighed, for during her dream she had nearly forgotten about her deafness.

“What happened?” Mintfoot asked her, looking confused. And then Brightstar remembered an ability of medicine cats: because of their knowledge of medicine and their strong connection to StarClan only they could tell how many lives a leader has left. No doubt she was confused about why she could still sense them in Brightstar. Remembering Loststar’s last words, Brightstar only shook her head. Mintfoot nodded her acceptance of that answer. And then Brightstar saw Archstar start to say something, only to have Mintfoot cut him off – probably reminding him that whatever happened during his leader ceremony was not meant to be spoken of either.

Brightstar looked at him and meowed, “I have a request.”

For some reason he looked confused by that statement. “Yes?” he asked.

“When we get back to the Clan you must give me a new name,” she mewed, “’Brightstar’ hardly fits me now.” Archstar looked a little confused but nodded in understanding.

Something felt odd to Brightstar as the five cats gathered together and started to make their way home, but it took her some time before she could figure out what it was. Dewpaw and Badgerpaw were talking excitedly to each other, and Mintfoot was her usual calm self as she led the way. No, it was Archstar that seemed strange. She remembered her own leadership ceremony and how it had been at once joyous and painful, exhilarating and exhausting. When it was over she’d been tired but also stronger and more confident, ready to face anything. That was a far cry from Archstar’s state of deep thought. It made the group seem quieter in a way that had nothing to do with her hearing.

[Silentstar]

Just before they reentered Clan lands, Mintfoot suggested a halt so that she and the apprentices could hunt. It was forbidden for those who wanted to speak with StarClan to eat on the journey there, so Brightstar and Archstar were very hungry, and the travelling herbs had only partway sated the apprentice’s appetite. While they hunted, Brightstar and Archstar rested, she because her stamina hadn’t quite returned yet and he because of how weary the process of receiving new lives had made him.

After several moments of silence, Brightstar hesitantly asked, “Is there something wrong?” There had certainly been something on his mind ever since they left the Highpeak and, though she knew he was forbidden to speak of his leader ceremony, she still hoped she might help.

“I was thinking about you, actually,” Archstar meowed, pausing awkwardly for a moment before continuing, “About you becoming an elder.”

Brightstar had to pause for a few heartbeats to sort out her thoughts on that subject; she’d forgotten that plan during her long talk with Loststar. But though he’d told her what to do when she knew she was ready for whatever the task was, he didn’t say what to do before that. He only said that StarClan would provide a way for her to prepare. But until they did, the old plan was still probably the best – she’d be of limited use to the Clan in her present condition. And so, with some reluctance, she replied, “There’s no shame in becoming an elder, so you shouldn’t worry about talking to me about it.”

“Oh, being an elder is an honor,” Archstar responded quickly, “But it’s one that I don’t think that you’ve earned yet.”

Frowning at that, Brightstar asked, “What do you mean? Haven’t I served the Clan well?”

“Yes,” Archstar agreed, “For many moons, but an elder is one who has no more that they can give the Clan because they’ve given all they have – whether because of age or severe injury. And I don’t think that you’ve done that yet.” When Brightstar continued to look unsure about what he was saying he added, “You may believe that your warrior days are behind you, but if any deaf cat can hone all their warrior skills then you can.”

“But I’ve never heard of any cat doing that before!” Brightstar protested.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t,” Archstar pointed out.

She had to admit that he had a point, and his confidence that she would succeed seemed to give her permission to believe it herself. To be a warrior again... That had been all she’d ever wanted to be anyway, though after her conversation with Loststar she was uncertain now which direction she ought to be going. Still, until her warrior ancestors provided her with some sign that she needed to do otherwise, it certainly wouldn’t hurt for her to see just how far she could increase her skills and it might even help with whatever was involved in her task from StarClan. Or it wouldn’t hurt, at least.

“You’re right,” Brightstar agreed, “I should try. But it will probably take a very long time.”

Nodding to that, Archstar added, “Probably just as much time as it took you to learn the first time. Which is why, when we get back to the Clan, I will make you an apprentice.”

“An apprentice?” Brightstar questioned, certain that she’d misunderstood. But when Archstar nodded, she hissed, “You can’t do that, I’ve already earned my warrior name! I was leader of the Clan, for StarClan’s sake, and even the weakest elder or most despicable rogue is still a warrior! And you don’t even know for sure that I’ll ever become a warrior again!”

As she protested, Archstar’s expression remained resolute and the moment she finished he yowled back, “Your opinion on this does not matter to me. I am your leader now, so you will do what I say or you will leave the Clan.”

Shocked that Archstar would even think of saying such a thing, especially to her, Brightstar could hardly do anything but stare at him, dumbfounded. This was not Archstar – at least, not the cat that she’d known since they were both kits at Jumptalon’s side.

Only a couple of heartbeats later, Mintfoot reappeared at a quick run with Dewpaw and Badgerpaw close on her heels. Coming to a sudden stop, the three cats looked from the bristling Brightstar to the angry stare of Archstar in confusion. They must have thought that the two of them had been attacked, Brightstar realized.

“What happened?” asked Mintfoot, both relieved that two were okay but alarmed to see them so obviously upset with each other.

“Ask Archstar,” Brightstar snapped, turning her back on him to effectively make it impossible for their conversation to continue. But when she saw Mintfoot leaving with Dewpaw and Badgerpaw only a few heartbeats later, she knew that Archstar had sent them off without telling them either. But he’d have to tell the entire Clan when they got back, she realized. And she’d be far from the only cat who would see the injustice of making her an apprentice. But an even more troublesome line of thought was trying to figure out why he’d decide to do such a thing. To his own kin! Had he gone mad with power already? Was he trying to discredit her to make sure that his position was secure? And the way he’d just spoken to her – none of them were like him at all!

She wasn’t sure how much longer it was before her thoughts were interrupted by the return the hunting cats, who’d found enough fresh-kill to ease all of their hunger. Then they set off again, though Brightstar completely ignored Archstar’s presence as he brought up the rear. By the time they made it back to the Clan it was near sunhigh and all of them were exhausted, but Archstar only paused long enough to check in with Tinyfur before leaping onto the Highlog to call the Clan together. Brightstar positioned herself near the front, trying to look much more calm and dignified than she felt.

When the last few stragglers had found a place Archstar started by announcing a few things too quickly for her to understand, though she guessed that he’d reported on his new name and lives to judge by the reassured look on a few faces. After that he called her forward, and though she couldn’t see it she was sure that the cool stare she gave him as they met beneath the Highlog brought a lot of whispers. But the reason for it was soon made obvious by what Archstar said next:

“Spirits of StarClan,” he began, not slowing his words much for her benefit, but she knew the ceremonial words well enough that she had no trouble understanding, “You know every cat by name. I ask you now to take away the name from the cat you see before you, for it no longer stands for what she is. By my authority as Clan leader, and with the approval of our warrior ancestors, I give this cat a new name. From this day, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Silentpaw.”

Just as the newly renamed Silentpaw expected, it took no more than a few stunned heartbeats for the Clan to react. When she glanced at the others she saw a mixture of cats who were everything from angry enough to be yowling and digging their claws into the ground to simply eyeing the scene with a troubled expression. She noted with some satisfaction that she couldn’t spot even one who didn’t seem at least bothered by it, and though she couldn’t hear it she could easily imagine the loud murmurings of disagreement. In fact, Archstar was soon forced to jump back onto the Highlog to call the meeting back to order. And even then he started to be bombarded by questions. But even as upset as Silentpaw was, she had to admire how he managed to calm the yowling into a more organized discussion, and though she found it impossible to follow the conversation, she could see that whatever he was saying was having an effect. And he was even standing up against Pearear and Mouthnose, who she could see were among the least happy with this turn of events and she knew that both of her sisters could have very sharp tongues.

It soon became frustrating, however, to be unable to understand a conversation knowing that it was about her and about something so important to her, so when Silentpaw saw Mouthnose’s attention stray away from Archstar and over to her she quickly beckoned her sister over with a flick of her tail.

“What’s everyone saying?” she asked quietly when Mouthnose came close.

“Well we all think it’s terrible, of course,” Mouthnose mewed loyally, a flick of her ear indicating the rest of the Clan, “It’s the most mouse-brained thing I’ve ever heard! But Archstar is insisting that it would be the best thing for you. He’s saying you could be a warrior again, but you’d do better with the structure given to an apprentice.” She shook her head in dismay before continuing, “Everyone else is trying to explain to him just how... wrong it is to make you an apprentice, especially after what happened. But he’s being so stubborn!”

With that summary in mind, Silentpaw allowed herself to consider the situation more carefully. Forcing herself to lay her feelings to the side for a moment, she considered his point of view – the one he probably would have explained to her if she hadn’t gotten angry and turned her back on him. Perhaps he was right about the more structured way of training an apprentice: an apprentice was given a mentor to guide them and manage their training. She’d seen many good mentors shape a kit into a warrior by pushing them hard, but never too hard. If he put her with the warriors instead she’d be in charge of her own training, though she’d be able to enlist the help of the other warriors. Still it wouldn’t be quite the same thing because she wouldn’t be held accountable to complete her training to any other cat. So perhaps he was right in that aspect at least.

Surprising herself by her decisions, Silentpaw raised her tail in order to politely indicate that she had something to say. Given how impassioned the argument seemed to be it would have been unlikely that such a signal would have worked except for the fact that every cat knew her opinion on this matter was probably the most important, so she soon found that she had every cat’s attention. Silently thanking StarClan that her deafness didn’t make it much more difficult to speak even if it did make understanding anyone else very difficult, she turned to Archstar.

“I understand that you’re trying to do what’s best for me,” she began, “And I have to admit that being treated as an apprentice would probably be a good thing for me. It would help me to regain my lost skills faster. And I also have to admit that even if we tried to arrange things so that it was like I was an apprentice instead of actually doing it then it wouldn’t work as well.”

A look of intense relief spread across Archstar’s face at her words and he exclaimed, “That’s all I’ve been trying to say!” Silentpaw reflected that this must be a very difficult thing for him – making such an obviously unpopular decision fresh from his visit to StarClan. So it must be something that he felt very strongly about, as upsetting as it was to everyone, or he wouldn’t dare that that position in the first place.

“However...” Silentpaw continued and saw Archstar’s relief suddenly vanish at that one word, “By taking my status as a warrior away from me, you take away from me all that I’ve done for many moons. It’s an insult to my mentor Stumpyfrost. It says that all I did for the Clan as an apprentice, warrior, deputy, and leader counts for nothing. It’s an insult to me, and I demand compensation for that.”

Silentpaw didn’t let her gaze leave Archstar, though she was certain that his surprised expression was shared by many in the Clan. Her demand was as unprecedented as her becoming an apprentice again, though perhaps that’s what made it fair and right. The word of a Clan leader was law, so it was extremely bold of her to demand something from him, but no more so than what he’d just done.

“I don’t mean to insult any cat,” Archstar replied after a moment, “And I don’t think that I should have to pay you to give you what you need.”

“So the end justifies the means?” Silentpaw asked before shaking her head, “No, I can’t ignore that insult, no matter the reason for it. But I swear by StarClan that if you compensate me for it, then I will willingly agree with the rest.”

Though Archstar did a good job of keeping his expression unreadable, she knew that he would be strongly tempted by that offer. After all, if she agreed with what he’d done, what cat could argue that it was unfair? It wouldn’t be without its downside: if he agreed to her terms it would also be admitting that he’d done something at least partway wrong. But though there was nothing in the warrior code against it and he’d done a very good job of making it look like he believed that making her an apprentice was justified, she was certain that he knew it went against the spirit of the warrior code. What she wondered was why he felt so strongly about this that he was willing to go through all this trouble and even use his position to try and force her into it.

After a long pause Archstar asked, “What sort of compensation did you want?”

Forcefully keeping the look of victory off of her face, Silentpaw answered, “I want you to spar with me; right here, right now, in front of the Clan.”

It was only then that Silentpaw peeked at the rest of the Clan out of the corner of her eye to see what they thought of this. Most of them were watching the two cats talk with bewildered expressions, as if unsure what to make of all of this. But a few, mostly the older cats, were nodding their heads thoughtfully. Likely they assumed that Silentpaw wanted the opportunity to show Archstar as well as the rest of the clan that she was still a force to be reckoned with whether she was called an apprentice or not. But if that was all she wanted, then there were many other ways to do that.

And the rest of the Clan wouldn’t know what asking Archstar to spar meant to the two of them. They didn’t know about a young apprentice who struggled to learn even the most basic of fighting moves but was too proud to ask any cat for help. Or about how it was another apprentice, his sister, who noticed his problem and patiently helped him master his fighting skills where no other cat would see and make fun of him. Or how it was Silentpaw that had invented so many of the fighting moves that had given him the reputation of being very difficult to defeat in battle. So they could not have known that she was so very aware of his fighting style that he didn’t have a whisker’s chance of beating her, because she was the real natural. But it wasn’t her intention to humiliate him in front of the Clan, but to show him that his lives, his name, and the power he wielded as a leader actually didn’t mean much; it wouldn’t help him win. A lesson he’d no doubt learn anyway, but given how he’d been acting she thought he should learn it immediately.

Archstar hesitated for another long moment before asking, “So if I win? Or?”

“Win or lose, same deal,” Silentpaw assured him, “Though if you go easy on me I’ll bite your tail off.”

When Archstar hesitated yet again she knew that she was really striking a nerve, but while that would normally bother her this was one case where she hoped that it hurt him just a little. It wasn’t just the principle of the thing that made her object to losing her warrior status, it also hurt her a bit to have something she valued so much taken away from her.

“All right,” he finally said, “I will spar with you.” The decision actually seemed to relieve him a bit, and he looked more relaxed as he leapt off the Highlog and took a moment to stretch, while those near the front backed away to give the two cats some room.

They didn’t need any cat to tell them when to begin, because both could see that the other was ready but neither of them was eager to make the first move. But then abruptly Archstar seemed to decide to just get it over with because he suddenly faked right and tried to go left. Silentpaw saw right through the tactic and was there to meet him, skillfully tripping him up with a quick paw swipe then pouncing on his back before he could regain his footing. He’d have probably been able to knock her off then with relative ease, but she’d paused with her teeth bared half a whisker away from his neck; if it had been a real fight she would have been able to grab onto the back of his neck and he’d have then been in serious trouble, so he stopped struggling to signal his surrender.

Silentpaw released him immediately, and noted more than a few impressed looks on the faces of her Clanmates. Outside of formal lessons with apprentices most cats were too busy to spar more than occasionally, and in the heat of battle nobody took time to notice just how well another cat was fighting unless they obviously needed help. Eventually a cat could gain a reputation for fighting by going into the thick of battle and coming out of it relatively unharmed, but there was seldom any opportunity for any cat to see just how well one cat compared to another. And though both Silentpaw and Archstar were known to be good fighters, it was unlikely that any cat suspected that one could defeat the other so easily. Silentpaw took no particular pride in this, however, because she was certain that if fighting had been as much of a struggle for her as it had been for Archstar then she never would have gotten as good as he was, and he had his own gifts for her to be jealous of. Instead she just hoped that he’d learned something from this.

Archstar shook himself and seemed to gather up the scattered bits of his dignity for a moment before glancing questioningly at Silentpaw. Knowing what the unasked question was, she nodded and he turned his attention back to the Clan.

“Well,” he started, looking just a bit flustered but forging ahead anyway, “It’s time I named Silentpaw’s mentor.” He paused as if waiting to see if anyone would object but, though a few cats were shifting around uncomfortably, nobody spoke up and Silentpaw was true to her word and showed no sign of disagreement. Turning to speak directly to Silentpaw, he continued, “Your mentor will be Mumblebelly.”

With all the oddities this Clan meeting held thus far, having Mumblebelly chosen as her mentor didn’t seem all that odd to her now. And unlike Archstar’s choice to make her an apprentice, it was pretty easy for her to see why he would choose Mumblebelly. Since Silentpaw had been a much-liked leader of the Clan, it would be difficult for any cat to be strict enough with her. And on top of that, all of the available warriors were younger than her, and a mentor who was at all timid about ordering their apprentice around was no good. And her deafness made her a particular challenge to train, so her mentor would have to be wise.

The only problem with choosing Mumblebelly is that she was an elder – the oldest cat in the Clan, in fact. She was Flintstar’s littermate and, given that he’d joined StarClan a few moons previously, it could be assumed that she would join him soon. Mumblebelly wasn’t known to leave the elder’s den except to drink, visit the dirt place, and attend meetings like this one. And elders were retired from warrior duties, including training apprentices, which is no doubt what Mumblebelly was yowling from her spot in the back as the attention of every cat in the Clan turned to her.

Silentpaw was actually a bit amused as she watched Archstar and Mumblebelly argue back and forth over whether or not the old she-cat could mentor her. But this was one she knew that Archstar would win, even though it would take some time. Likely Mumblebelly was just worried about the work involved, but Silentpaw wasn’t an ordinary apprentice and didn’t need her mentor to constantly watch over her to keep her from running off and getting hurt. What she needed was someone to guide her training, which is something that Mumblebelly could do without setting foot out of the camp if she wanted, and that was likely what Archstar was explaining to her. And though it took him awhile to convince Mumblebelly that it could be done, eventually Silentpaw saw her get up and slowly make her way to the front so that they could touch noses in the time-honored fashion of mentor and apprentice.

As if eager to end the meeting before anything else odd happened, Archstar dismissed the Clan and every cat went their separate ways. But when Mumblebelly started to talk to Silentpaw, they soon realized that Silentpaw couldn’t understand a word that Mumblebelly said. The old she-cat had a tendency to talk in a very fast mutter, and even when she tried to speak more clearly Silentpaw had a lot of trouble. Mumblebelly’s patience soon wore out and she called Pearear over, talked with her at length, and then headed back to the elder’s den. Pearear looked sympathetically at Silentpaw as she passed along Mumblebelly’s instructions: she had the rest of the day to rest, but her training would begin at dawn the next day.

It felt very odd to Silentpaw when she entered the apprentice’s den a bit later, after eating a bit of fresh-kill. Since becoming a warrior she’d only poked her head in there if she was looking for one of the apprentices, and now it was hers once again. It seemed much smaller than she remembered. Dewpaw and Badgerpaw were already there, also having been given the day off to recover from the trip to the Moonpeak, and they eyed her uncertainly. She made a mental note to find a way to convince the other apprentices that it was okay to relax around her; otherwise they might think that they had to be on their best behavior in their own den, and she didn’t want that. But at that moment she was too tired to do more than curl up in an obviously hastily made nest of bracken and moss located as far from the others as the cramped quarters as possible – Buzzardpaw and Mothpaw’s work, to judge by the scent.

But sleep did not come easily to Silentpaw, and she found herself pondering her new name. She was coming to terms with the last part of it – now that she’d made Archstar pay for her loss of status, the sting of it was starting to ease. But it was the first part that drew her attention now. He could have easily given her the name of Brightpaw, but obviously he felt that the silence she lived in now merited a completely new name. She wasn’t sure she liked it – it wasn’t like she needed to be reminded she was deaf every time a cat said her name.

But as she pondered it, she suddenly realized that it connected to that sign Mintfoot had interpreted: The silent star will rise only to fall, only to rise even higher in a far off place. She’d been a star and now she was called Silent, so that could easily be her. And she’d risen to the position of leader, and now she’d fallen all the way back to being an apprentice again. Any lower and she’d be a kit! And what Loststar had said seemed to indicate that her task would take her somewhere she wouldn’t be able to return from. But if that was what it meant, then it also meant that in that far off place she’d rise even higher – if being a leader was what it meant to rise the first time, what could possibly be higher than that? She couldn’t answer that, though the ‘Yes.’ in her memory still pulled at her. Or it could simply be that Archstar gave her the name as a guess that it might refer to her, and since such a vague prophecy could mean so many other things she couldn’t be certain at all.

[Silentstar]

At dawn the next morning she felt a small paw nudge her awake, and found that Pearear had sent Mothpaw to wake her so that she could pass along Mumblebelly’s latest set of instructions. She was to spend the entire morning until sunhigh on a solo hunting patrol, staying near the camp where it was safest. After sunhigh she was to meet with Mumblebelly in the camp and so that she could practice understanding Mumblebelly until sunset. And when both activities proved to be extremely difficult but not impossible for Silentpaw, that became her daily routine.

Hunting, she found, was a matter of extreme concentration and putting absolutely everything she knew about hunting into practice at all times. She had, after all, hunted for many, many moons with her hearing intact, so she knew by sight those bits of ground where the leaves might rustle if she stepped on them, where to look for birds that might alert other prey to her presence, and a whole host of other things. Now she just had to avoid patches of questionable ground completely since she couldn’t carefully test it, continuously check the sky and trees for birds moving around, and a short list of other things. Which was a lot more difficult in practice than in theory, but bit by bit she improved. She also forced herself to pick up the habit of tasting the air almost constantly whenever she left camp instead of only when she hoped or expected to smell something, unlike most other cats, and was rewarded with a better chance of sensing prey before they sensed her.

Understanding Mumblebelly was its own major challenge. Her mentor only begrudgingly slowed her words or said them carefully. It was slow and tedious but, though Mumblebelly seemed to be in a perpetually bad mood, she was also patient in her own way and never sent Silentpaw away before sunset no matter how slow her progress was. And Silentpaw noticed that whenever she seemed to make progress, Mumblebelly would make it more difficult by making what she was saying less and less predictable.

The unchanging routine quickly became a bit boring in its sameness, even though it made every day a difficult challenge, but she broke up the tedium by making an effort to integrate herself back into the body of the Clan after her high position and illness had set her apart from it. She started by mercilessly playing practical jokes on the other apprentices – she had all of them carefully checking their nests every night before they went to sleep to make sure something unpleasant wasn’t waiting for them. It took quite a few sunrises for them to stop accusing each other for the tricks and realize that their former leader was behind it. When she returned one evening to find her nest full of worms, she knew she’d been accepted as one of them. But she also made an effort to share tongues and eat fresh-kill with as many Clanmates as she could. Sometimes that was the only way to make sure she heard the latest news, because it was difficult for her to talk to any cat more casually. Even so, she kept her main focus on her training because now that she wasn’t recognized as a warrior she wanted nothing more than to earn it back.

Still, she didn’t feel like she’d made much progress by the time the next Gathering came. She’d lucked out in a way with the timing of things, because she had nearly three quarters of a moon to adjust to her new role before the other Clans heard the news that the leader of their Clan was now an apprentice. She hadn’t wanted to go at first because though she had enough respect from her Clanmates for them to not make light of her situation, the other Clans were another story. In fact, until Archstar specifically asked her to go she’d be hoping to stay at the camp instead, but he explained that it would make things awkward for him to say that he was leader even though she was still alive without her there as proof. Given how suspicious the other Clans could be she saw his point, so she reluctantly agreed.

But once Silentpaw agreed, Archstar explained an idea that he’d come up with about how she might discourage the cats in the other Clans from seeing too much humor in her new position. Silentpaw was a bit surprised that he took the trouble to worry about how she might be treated – though she was now more or less content with her new position in the Clan, neither of them had tried to reconcile their differences after she became an apprentice so there’d been some distance between them ever since. And though she was relieved for the Clan’s sake that that whole mess seemed to be both the start and the end of him not acting like his old, sensible self, she still hadn’t the slightest idea what had possessed him to do that in the first place.

As Silentpaw headed for the Gathering, she found her dread gradually turning into excitement. Archstar’s plan was probably a good one, and if all went well perhaps it would help the two of them start to mend the small but lingering rift between them. When they neared the Gathering site they paused to sniff the air and Silentpaw noted that they would be the last to arrive – so much the better! Archstar waited a few extra heartbeats, perhaps savoring the moment of leading the Clan to a Gathering as its leader for the first time, before signaling the Clan to head down together. The other leaders were already waiting on the Highridge and Archstar quickly joined them. Meanwhile, Silentpaw quickly found a place near the front but to one side so that no cat was behind her and she could easily see all the cats of all Clans.

It only took a few heartbeats for the other leaders to cast her and Archstar a few confused glances, but she saw Archstar explain the change of leadership with a completely untroubled air. She didn’t have to be able to hear him to know that he was explaining in carefully chosen words about how the situation, while unfortunate for the Clan, hadn’t weakened them in any way. With leafbare nearly underway and all the Clans already starting to have a harder time finding prey, they couldn’t afford even the slightest hint that they might have any trouble defending their territory.

But Silentpaw couldn’t afford to watch Archstar for too long, because sooner or later during his explanation he’d have to refer to her by her new name. And it was easy for her to tell when because a visible ripple of surprise went through all the assembled cats except for those of her own Clan. Trying her best to look calm and dignified as she very briefly became the center of attention, she waited for the shock to wear off and watched as the majority of them checked themselves and politely looked away. That’s when she quickly scanned the gathered cats for the others; those that kept looking her way with mocking eyes. And she picked out the biggest of all of them – a large tom named Foxtooth. He was a cat very well known for being a tough fighter, though Silentpaw had always thought that he must have a lot of fluff in his brain. Any other cat with his fighting experience would surely recognize that neither the change to her hearing nor her name made her any less of a fighter. And yet there he was, probably one of the most open in his amusement.

Though she would be more naturally inclined to simply take the laughs and wait for the opportunity to prove herself later, that wasn’t a part of Archstar’s plan. Instead she allowed just a little bit of her anger grow. “Do you find something funny about my new name?” she demanded loudly enough to heard by every cat as she glared claws at him.

True to her assessment of his nature, Foxtooth smirked and simply meowed, “Yes.”

Suddenly troubled faces dotted the clearing, though Silentpaw paid them no mind. Fighting at a Gathering was expressly forbidden by StarClan, and this didn’t sound peaceful at all! Silentpaw simply continued on with Archstar’s plan, and the inspiration for it was obvious: “If you think that my name makes me weak, then spar with me and prove it!” she challenged.

Foxtooth looked shocked, obviously having expected his insult to go unchallenged. “But... this is a Gathering!” he protested.

“If StarClan objects to me proving my strength with a simple sparring match, let them give a sign,” she mewed back hotly, forcing herself to keep her angry gaze on Foxtooth instead of letting her gaze drift to the sky like all the other assembled cats. She was reasonably confident that StarClan wouldn’t mind, especially given that she apparently held favor with them, but one could never be completely certain.

For several heartbeats the sky was examined, but the full moon and the stars continued to shine as brightly as ever, and the cats in between Foxtooth and Silentpaw started to edge nervously out of the way. Still, Foxtooth meowed something with a questioning expression at the leaders on the Highridge and to Silentpaw’s dismay she saw his leader still looking doubtful. But then Archstar meowed something with a lazy yawn that caused Foxtooth’s entire Clan to bristle and Foxtooth himself to flinch visibly. Silentpaw had very little time to wonder at what insult Archstar had just let loose, because Foxtooth’s question immediately became a demand and his leader was now all too willing to approve.

The other cats were now actively making room and she saw a cat taking it upon himself to announce the start of the bout properly, even though that probably wasn’t necessary. For once, Silentpaw was glad she couldn’t hear – the noise of the watching cats talking together or possibly even shouting advice would have been more of a distraction than anything. Instead she could focus completely on Foxtooth, and she would really need that focus this time. She’d never fought the large warrior herself before, though she’d seen brief snatches of him during border skirmishes with his Clan during past moons. He was large enough and strong enough that his method of simply barreling into battle worked well for him and made him a difficult opponent for even a cat as fast and skilled as she was. But Archstar had told her wisely that she had to be bold in her choice of cat to goad into a sparring match because it wouldn’t mean much if she won to a lesser cat. In fact he’d noted that it would be better for her to lose to a cat she had to go all out against – the idea was to convince as many cats as possible that they would not like to face her in battle, not to win. Still, she hoped that she might just be able to edge in a victory if she was clever enough.

At first, nothing much happened – Foxtooth charged Silentpaw in his standard fashion and she dodged out of his way. For several heartbeats he threw blow after blow at her, but she dodged all of them as she looked for a good opening. Finally she found one and launched herself at him, knocking him over but unable to force him into a pin. Instead both their paws went flying, him landing poorly aimed but strong blows on her shoulders while she got in some good swipes at his face. If they’d been using their claws, both of them would be torn to shreds by now, but there was no clear victor yet. He managed to kick her away and regain his footing, only to be charged by her again. But this time he was ready for her and threw his weight at her, and she found herself knocked to the ground and pinned before she could get her paws back underneath her.

Hoping that was enough, Silentpaw yielded, only to find herself being helped to her feet by Foxtooth. He nodded to her and muttered something hastily before turning to acknowledge the cats who were congratulating him on his victory. Fortunately, as she looked around with a confused expression Mouthnose was nearby and informed her that he’d said she was ‘still the same cat’. Pleased by that, by the impressed looks on the faces turned her way, and how nobody seemed to remember that her name might be amusing, she shook herself and started to groom her fur back into place while the leaders called the Gathering back to order. The rest of the meeting proved to be much more boring, especially because Silentpaw had a lot of trouble following any of it.

---

Leafbare arrived in full force not long after the Gathering, and when the snow came it set back Silentpaw’s ability to hunt at first. Not only was there less prey, but the snow often made smelling anything more difficult. But it also made the ground everywhere the same, so as long as she walked through the snow just the right way she could worry less over making any sounds. By the time another moon passed she was consistently catching more prey than she ate despite the season, and it was a tremendous source of satisfaction for her to know that she was giving the Clan more than she took. But it was a moon after that when she came back carrying a rabbit that Mumblebelly cut their afternoon session short.

“If you can catch a rabbit, it’s about time you had an assessment,” she announced, “I’m going to ask Tinyfur to send you out with the dawn patrol tomorrow to see how you do.”

Silentpaw quickly nodded, excited by the break in routine. It was difficult for her to do the same thing nearly every day, even though she knew they were working on the most critical things and that her training would progress faster thanks to that focus. And though she forced herself to put all her effort into it, she still lived for those days when she was asked to do something different.

After sunhigh the next day Mumblebelly tracked down Patchsplash, the cat who’d led the dawn patrol. “So, how did my apprentice do?” she asked as she settled herself down for a long talk.

“Well, she certainly lives up to her name – and I don’t mean because she couldn’t hear but because I couldn’t hear her,” Patchsplash started, shaking her head in admiration, “I kept finding myself looking back to make sure she was there, but she was.”

Nodding to that Mumblebelly commented, “Must be how she learned to hunt – if you can’t hear the prey the best way to make up for it is to make absolutely sure that the prey can’t hear you.”

“Must be,” Patchsplash agreed, “I’ve heard louder butterflies. But perhaps even more impressive was her sense of smell – she picked up the scent of a fox that had travelled beside the Thunderpath that was three sunrises old.”

“The Thunderpath?” Mumblebelly asked, surprised, “The scent of those monsters is strong enough to drown out any other scent!”

“Well, once she pointed it out I could smell it too – barely. And then when we reached the border and we could scent the other Clan, she could tell which cats patrolled their border last. Do you think her deafness gave her some gift with her sense of smell?” Patchsplash continued.

Mumblebelly was surprised by that detail; cats in Clans lived so closely together that their individual scents tended to blend into one – the Clan’s own particular collective scent. And though cats within the same Clan were so used to their own scent that they could still pick out individual scents without much trouble, it was extremely difficult to distinguish the scent of a particular cat in another Clan. Shrugging at the question, Mumblebelly answered, “I suppose it’s possible. But it’s also possible that she always had a good nose, or that we all could do the same if we had as great of a need for it. I’ve heard of many cats who lost a sense getting more skill with the others – it need not be a special thing only she has.” Then again, and old fox scent next to a Thunderpath and picking out individual cats in another Clan? That wasn’t just a little better than average!

“Well, silence and scents aside, I’m afraid that I don’t have just good things to report,” Patchsplash added, pulling Mumblebelly away from her thoughts, “I believe she saw or scented most of the things we heard during the patrol, but she did miss a few. Then again, she noticed perhaps as many things that the rest of us missed so perhaps that evens out. But what was definitely a problem is that she often missed seeing me give orders the first time unless I made sure I had her attention first. And the way she spooked when Dapplescar returned to the group after investigating a dog scent, I’d imagine that a kit would be able to sneak up on her.”

Nodding slowly to that, Mumblebelly thanked Patchsplash for the report and moved over to a sunny spot where she could rest and ponder the best way to train Silentpaw further. The rabbit she’d caught was proof that she had her hunting skills back to where they needed to be – a rabbit was so sensitive and quick to flee from the slightest trace of danger that any cat who could find and catch one without being able to hear could probably catch anything. And Mumblebelly could also tell that they were nearing the end of the usefulness of their afternoon ‘chats’ because progress was slowing and when Silentpaw made a mistake it seemed to only be when the words were just plain difficult to tell apart. She could probably best hone both those skills by putting them to normal use, so it was time to change the focus. What was the best way to teach Silentpaw to work more easily on patrols? And to detect when someone was coming behind her? Hmm...

---

It took some convincing, but Mumblebelly finally managed to convince the other mentors that her plan was a good idea. Of course, it helped that Archstar quickly took her side. “We’ll have half a Clan cats who can ambush any cat except Silentpaw in four moons,” he predicted.

“We’ll have half a Clan of cats with no discipline,” Owlheart meowed more pessimistically.

“If Silentpaw improves in this as quickly as she already has in every task that I have given her,” Mumblebelly declared, “Things will be back more or less to normal in a moon.”

“We could always try it for a moon,” Mintfoot suggested, “And if Mumblebelly is wrong, then we can stop it. Or even before that if it doesn’t appear to be working.”

Nodding to that, Mumblebelly mewed, “Of course, but this will be difficult for Silentpaw; we need to give her enough time, even if it doesn’t work at first.”

In the end, every cat agreed and Archstar gathered the apprentices and introduced them to a new rule: whenever an apprentice was punished by their mentor, they could try to get out of it by touching Silentpaw anywhere but the head, legs, or tail. If they succeeded, she would have to do their punishment for them, and if they failed then they would have to do their punishment themselves. Rules were laid out: one try per punishment, she could not be attacked in the apprentice’s den, and if any of them did anything bad enough to require a very long punishment, they’d have to get her once for every day of their punishment. The other apprentices were thrilled at the idea, of course, though Silentpaw looked nervous. There were five other apprentices in the Clan and they got themselves into trouble often enough that she probably wouldn’t have a moment’s peace! Now she regretted convincing the other apprentices to think of her as one of them.

There was a silver lining, however, because after Archstar dismissed the apprentices Mumblebelly told her that from now on her training would be to join as many hunting patrols as she had the time and energy for – after any punishments she was required to do, of course. Being able to go out on a proper patrol further from the camp was normal warrior’s work at last! There would be more prey, and she knew that in order for it to be safe for her to go on regular border patrols she needed to learn to communicate better with the others in her group and she could practice that more safely in a hunting patrol. So she quickly realized that in order to continue making any progress, she could not let the other apprentices give her any punishments because she wouldn’t learn a thing doing any of the menial chores that were normally assigned for that sort of thing.

Except, of course, that Dewpaw had been waiting for her to finish talking to Mumblebelly and pounced her as she was turning around, informing her that she had to clean out the nursery. And while she was in the middle of that Mothpaw shyly snuck up behind her, taped her side, and told her she needed to fetch mouse bile for the elder’s ticks too. And for the next quarter of a moon, Silentpaw found herself stuck in camp doing every conceivable apprentice task. There were just too many apprentices with a knack for getting into trouble in the Clan! And she suspected that they’d stopped trying to not get into trouble because they could just give their punishment to her. At this rate, she wasn’t going to be able to get any real training done at all!

However, after that first horrible quarter moon things began to improve. Motivated by her strong desire to beat this challenge so that she could go on hunting patrols and eventually become a warrior, she poured everything she had into fending off the other apprentices. Her first break was recognizing a pattern: the other apprentices usually got themselves into trouble around sunhigh – that part of the day when they were starting to get bored and tired. And since they didn’t want their punishments hanging over them, they’d try and get her immediately. So as long as she kept an extra careful eye out for them during that time of day she could better fend them off.

And after that realization, she always seemed to be a step ahead of them: by the time they figured out she didn’t expect them in the morning, she’d gotten so careful about watching her back when she was out in the open that they had no chance unless they set up a proper ambush. But by the time they figured that out, she’d already learned to be extra cautious around the best ambush sites. And she noted all the trickier ambush sites before they did as well. They still managed to get her frequently but, just as Mumblebelly predicted, Silentpaw had improved enough after a moon that the apprentices just couldn’t rely on her to get them out of whatever trouble they’d gotten themselves into.

It was then that things got really tricky, because the other apprentices realized that they could do better by working together and they’d all gotten very skilled at sneaking up on Silentpaw even as she got better at detecting and avoiding them. Now instead of confining their attempts to the very well known camp they started stalking her through the forest as well. It forced Archstar to make a new rule that they couldn’t get her while she was actively stalking prey because it was near the end of leafbare and they couldn’t afford to lose a piece of fresh-kill, but based on Mumblebelly’s advice he didn’t forbid them from going after her when she was on a hunting patrol entirely; cats were seldom attacked in the camp, after all, so it was good training for Silentpaw to learn to be wary everywhere. Soon she was able to spot all the likely ambush points even in relatively unfamiliar areas, and her frequency of success was always improving.

By the time of her next assessment newleaf was well underway, and she’d improved markedly in everything she needed to: always careful and alert, quick to spot danger or see when someone on the patrol needed her attention, and still ghostly silent wherever she walked. It was also at that time that Silentpaw had the apprentice’s den to herself for a peaceful half moon after all the apprentices became warriors and before Shiningstem’s four kits were old enough to join her. She felt greatly at ease because she felt that she was very close to being able to be a warrior. However, Mumblebelly knew that she still had a ways to go.

The very day that Whiskerpaw, Haypaw, Whitepaw, and Pearpaw joined her in the apprentice’s den, Mumblebelly changed Silentpaw’s duties from hunting patrols to joining the sunset border patrol. This proved to be doubly difficult because, unbeknownst to Silentpaw, her former denmates had explained as best they could to the four new apprentices everything they’d learned about ambushing Silentpaw. They hadn’t done so to be cruel, but to make sure that even as new apprentices the four could keep Silentpaw on her toes and help her training that much more. And the four littermates proved to be very inventive and worked together very well, resulting in another difficult quarter moon for Silentpaw as she adjusted to their strategies, though it wasn’t nearly as difficult as the first time.

The sunset border patrol was very difficult as well, because the light faded fast during newleaf and she found herself struggling to cope with trying to understand cats quickly and accurately in the darkness. She was as good at seeing in the dark as any cat, but in the dark shadows of the trees deep in the forest it got difficult for even cat eyes to pick out the subtle movements she’d become attuned to. Still, no cat suggested that she try something easier, so she must be doing well enough. The main problem she had with the sunset patrol was that between the darkness and her exhaustion when they returned, she was extremely easy for the four new apprentices to pounce as they neared the camp. But that too eventually became easier as she grew more used to the nighttime, and the long, hard patrols every evening increased her stamina to the point where she could return with the energy to dodge punished apprentices.

---

“What’s going on?” Archstar asked Mumblebelly when he spotted her watching the apprentices doing something near the camp entrance. Newleaf was more than half over and the Gathering was that evening. He was waiting for a few last patrols to return so that he could choose which cats to take and which to leave to guard the camp.

“Whiskerpaw, Haypaw, Whitepaw, and Pearpaw were all caught coming back over the border just after sunhigh. They won’t tell any cat what they were doing,” Mumblebelly informed him.

Archstar’s eyes widened at that news. Odds were that the still-young apprentices merely went on a foolish adventure, and he silently asked StarClan that he wouldn’t be confronted by whatever they did during the Gathering. Ever since the Clans were able to fatten themselves on newleaf prey after the pinch of leafbare it seemed like all the Clans again had the energy to fight over boundaries. He didn’t want to give the other leaders any reason to be angry with his Clan.

But wasn’t apparently what Mumblebelly had in mind because she continued, “Because of the Gathering there’s no need for a sunset patrol, so Silentpaw went out with a hunting patrol. They should get back any moment now.”

Now Archstar understood. The natural punishment would have been to forbid all of them from going to the Gathering at the very least, and he’d decided not to take them last time because they were all very young at the time. If they went this time it would be their very first time, so if they wanted to get out of any punishment then this would be the one. “So what’s their plan?” he asked, suddenly as interested in watching as Mumblebelly.

“Well, she’ll probably be carrying prey when she gets back so they’re hoping she won’t be able to scent them, and they figure that if all four of them pounce her at the same time right when she enters the camp then she won’t be able to fend all of them off,” she answered, “They agreed that it was their best chance and that it was better for some of them to be able to go than none – they haven’t been able to get her very often for half a moon now, so they’re trying to keep it simple.”

Nodding to that, Archstar eyed the apprentices as they finished carefully arranging themselves around the entrance and waited for the patrols to come in, ready to pounce the moment that Silentpaw appeared. “How has her training been coming, by the way?” he asked, half out of actual interest and half to kill time before it all went down.

“Very well,” Mumblebelly mewed, “She still has trouble in large groups of cats and sometimes she doesn’t understand a word or two even when there’s just the two of you. But she matches the amount of fresh-kill the others bring back mouse for mouse on hunting patrols, and the cats who lead the border patrols tell me that she’s usually the first to sense anything wrong. And I would imagine that she’d do much better working with other cats if she led the patrols – it’s always been much easier for her to give orders than to receive them, even before she lost her hearing.”

Giving a small mrrow of amusement, Archstar asked, “So do you think she’s ready for her warrior name?”

“I do,” Mumblebelly agreed, “The only skill we haven’t worked on is actual fighting, but every cat in every Clan knows that doesn’t need any work. And where she’s still lacking seem to be only in the most difficult of skills for a deaf cat to master. And even despite those she’s still able to do all the warrior duties with the skill expected of a true warrior.”

“Hmm,” Archstar meowed thoughtfully, “Then the question is: does she deserve to be honored with it today or will we have to wait until the shame of being punished to miss the Gathering wears off?

He got his answer several moments later when the last hunting patrol returned. Silentpaw, carrying a large thrush, was in the rear as they filed though the narrow space at the camp’s entrance. The four apprentices pounced, almost as one, but though Silentpaw hadn’t given any indication of it she had apparently anticipated the attack. Dropping the thrush, she twisted onto her back and caught Pearpaw, who’d timed her pounce just slightly ahead of the other three, in her outstretched forelegs and held the apprentice up like a shield to block the other three as they all landed on them in a leap. Then Silentpaw gave Pearpaw, who now squealing in alarm, a strong shove with her hind legs to throw them all off of her before any of them had a chance to try and reach her through the tangle of bodies.

“Not going to the Gathering tonight?” she guessed as they picked themselves up, grumbling in disappointment, “What did you do this time?” But they weren’t very eager to explain themselves so she shrugged and retrieved the thrush, slightly worse for wear but still edible, to put in the fresh-kill pile.

“That was impressive,” Archstar said when she turned around to find him watching her, “How did you know they were there?”

Smiling a bit humbly at the praise, Silentpaw had to think about it for a moment; it wasn’t something she’d realized consciously. “Well I couldn’t smell them with that thrush in my mouth...” she thought out loud before she brightened in realization. “Let me show you,” she mewed, leading him back out of the entrance, stopping to look at it from a couple tail-lengths away. “When the sun gets low in the sky just before sunset, the sunlight shines through the brambles by the entrance and there are little spots on the ground next to them where the light makes it all the way through,” she explained, “But they were missing when we came back because some cat was hiding behind the brambles. That’s how I knew I was walking into a trap, and once I knew that the rest was just instinct I guess.”

Peering in surprise at the little spots of light that he’d never paid any attention to before, Archstar asked, “Do you check for the spots every time you come back to camp?”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t that,” Silentpaw answered, pausing for a moment to figure out how to explain before continuing, “When I was coming back today and looked at the entrance it just felt dark and wrong. It wasn’t until you asked and I thought about it that I realized it was the sunlight spots by the brambles. I just know not to ignore that feeling.”

Listening to all this, Archstar could well imagine why she would be the first cat to notice anything wrong on patrols. If she was paying this close attention to her surroundings instinctively, then she was probably more than compensating for her hearing – which was better than he’d expected. He thought that she’d only get to the point where she could function as a warrior with a few concessions here and there, and that it would take more moons. “Come with me,” he said abruptly as he headed back into the camp, not stopping until he was on the Highlog.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highlog for a Clan meeting,” he yowled. Since most of the Clan were already milling around in the clearing, expecting to hear who would go to the Gathering and who would guard the camp, they didn’t have to wait long for them to gather. Archstar motioned to Silentpaw with a flick of his tail and jumped off the Highlog to join her beside it.

“I call upon the spirits of my warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice,” he began without preamble, “She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn. Silentpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“Of course I do,” Silentpaw replied with an amused look on her face. The ceremonial words seemed different to her this time; when she became a warrior for the first time, this was a commitment and solemn promise. This time she was merely reaffirming the way she’d lived ever since.

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you a warrior name,” Archstar continued, “Silentpaw, from this moment on you’ll be known as Silentclaw. StarClan honors your intelligence and determination, and we once again welcome you as a full member of the Clan.”

Silentclaw couldn’t hear the Clan calling her new name, but she could see that they were. At least until she was too surrounded by Clanmates eager to offer their congratulations to see much of anything specific.

---

The rest of the evening passed in a blur for Silentclaw. When Archstar announced her new name at the Gathering she could see the respect she held even with the other Clans in their eyes. She was tired when they returned to the camp later that evening, but by tradition she would silently watch over the camp during the night. But Archstar stopped to visit her at her post in the middle of the clearing before heading to his den.

“I...” he started hesitantly, but seemed to have trouble figuring out what to say. This immediately perked Silentclaw’s interest because Archstar was a cat who was rarely at a loss for words. “I wanted to apologize for making you an apprentice,” he managed, “But it wasn’t my idea.” Surprised, Silentclaw watched Archstar even more carefully as he continued, “It was Flintstar’s idea. He said that you needed to be pushed, or you wouldn’t go as far as you needed to. He wouldn’t explain anything more than that, but he said I could tell you this when you became a warrior again. I never would have done it if he hadn’t told me to.”

Leaving Silentclaw blinking in surprise, Archstar headed to his den. She was about to call him back when she remembered that she was supposed to be sitting in silent vigil and wouldn’t be allowed to speak until dawn. It was clever timing on Archstar’s part if he’d been worried that she would react badly; she’d have plenty of time to think it over before she’d be able to talk to him about it. Was Flintstar right? Did she really need that much motivation to get where she was now? She had to admit it was true. She’d been prepared to sit in the elder’s den and wait for StarClan to tell her what to do next. Not that she wouldn’t have trained, but if she was honest with herself she wouldn’t have come close to matching the hard pace that Mumblebelly had set for her if she hadn’t woken every morning in the apprentice’s den – a place that she felt she had no business being in. And the way Mumblebelly had worked out a training routine that worked so perfectly was genius, especially enlisting the help of the other apprentices in teaching her to avoid danger. Now she was just as capable as any other warrior in the Clan.

And yet she was worried because Loststar had told her that StarClan would help her prepare for the task they had for her, and that had been six moons ago. Had she been so focused on her training that she’d missed a sign of what they wanted her to do? It didn’t seem likely; she’d gotten the sense that what she agreed to with Loststar was no simple thing that could be ignored by accident. Perhaps StarClan were waiting for her to become a warrior again? That could explain why she hadn’t heard anything from them.

She found her mind wandering to other things as she kept her lonely vigil. Her new name seemed perfect; in a way she had come full circle again, once again the warrior named Brightclaw who had sat vigil on this very spot many moons ago. But much had changed, and the first part of her name was not just a reminder of her deafness, but what she’d learned because of it. The world was silent to her, but she was silent to the world. And she felt like she was ready for anything!

That thought stirred a memory: Loststar telling her that she’d know when she was ready for her task. If she was ready for anything, was she ready for that? No, she couldn’t be ready; Loststar had also said that StarClan would provide a way for her to prepare. Unless... If Flintstar told Archstar to make her an apprentice, maybe that was it? The more she thought about it, the more that idea seemed to fit. The only thing she really knew about her task is that it would take her very, very far away and that no cat would go with her. And if she was going to go far away by herself she’d need to be able to feed and protect herself, and that’s exactly what she’d been learning to do for the past six moons! So if that’s what StarClan wanted her to do to prepare, was she ready? Almost.

---

By the time dawn came Silentclaw was exhausted and went straight to the warrior’s den for some sleep, finding the nest that had been prepared for her there. It was past sunhigh when she woke up, and she immediately joined a hunting patrol so as to be of some use to the Clan that day even though she’d slept in. It was near sunset when she returned and was able to put her plan in motion to do the last few things she felt that she needed to do.

First Silentclaw went to talk to Mintfoot and hesitantly asked her if she could learn a few of the most basic herbs. She was worried that Mintfoot might wonder why a warrior wanted to learn herbs, but Mintfoot only looked mildly surprised and agreed without questioning it. They decided to meet after sunhigh for the next few sunrises for the lessons. Then Mintfoot suggested that Silentclaw should check in on Mumblebelly, so Silentclaw headed to the elder’s den next.

She found Mumblebelly outside of the den, watching the sunset with a wistful expression. The old she-cat was looking even older than Silentclaw expected, as if she’d aged several moons overnight. They made small talk for awhile, mostly about Silentclaw becoming a warrior, but Mumblebelly seemed a little too distant and when Silentclaw left she felt troubled.

Lastly she headed to Archstar’s den and was relieved to find that he wasn’t busy. And they talked, hesitantly at first, but then with surprising ease as they hadn’t talked in moons. Archstar was relieved to find that Silentclaw forgave him for everything, and Silentclaw was relieved that Archstar wasn’t angry at how upset she’d been with him.

Silentclaw told him that she was concerned about Mumblebelly, and Archstar said that he thought that it might be that she was feeling useless without having Silentclaw to train anymore. Silentclaw remembered the moons following Flintstar’s death and that Mumblebelly had seemed very withdrawn then as well, as if she had nothing to do but wait until she could join StarClan. Archstar promised to do everything he could to make sure that Mumblebelly could contribute but noted that nothing he could do would compare with the opportunity to train an apprentice, and that by giving Mumblebelly something else to worry about Silentclaw probably extended her life for a few moons. But now that was over, perhaps it would soon be Mumblebelly’s time. And it wouldn’t be a sad end for her – she’d served the Clan well during her time as a warrior, but now she was tired and most of her closest friends were already in StarClan.

They moved onto happier subjects, but the sunlight soon faded to the point where it was difficult for Silentclaw to see in the dark den so she said good night and returned to new nest in the warrior’s den. The next morning she started a routine of a hunting or border patrol in the morning, followed by a lesson with Mintfoot after sunhigh, then spending time with her kin during the evening hours. Especially with Archstar when he wasn’t busy now that they were back on good terms. But she only followed that schedule for a quarter moon before she found herself watching the sunset one evening with an eager itch in her paws. That’s when she knew she was ready.

---

There was one last thing to do: leave her Clan behind. And though she remembered that she promised to do it, and though she’d had plenty of time to get used to the thought since her talk with Loststar, now that she knew she was ready she felt torn. She had only to think back upon that moment when she agreed to whatever task StarClan had given her to know that it was worth it, but to leave all her kin and friends behind... how could she bear it, even knowing it would be worth it? There was only one way, and she felt rather cowardly as she snuck out of the warrior’s den well before dawn. But she couldn’t face telling the entire Clan that she was leaving; too many of them wouldn’t understand and would try and stop her, and they might even succeed.

But it also wouldn’t be fair to simply disappear: the Clan would worry and would search long and hard for her. They would think that she’d been killed when she didn’t return. So Silentclaw turned towards Archstar’s den. He might understand, and even if he didn’t he would know what to tell the Clan. Still, just the thought of telling him caused her to pause for several moments to gather together her courage before she could enter his den.

“I’m sorry for waking you up so early,” she started, but hesitated as she tried to figure out how to say what she needed to say next.

Blinking the sleep from his eyes and frowning at the sky that was just starting to lighten with the approach of dawn, Archstar’s expression softened when he saw how troubled Silentclaw looked. “I trust your judgment on what’s important enough to wake me before dawn,” he mewed kindly, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Silentclaw answered quickly, then forced herself to add, “But I have to leave the Clan.”

Blinking in surprise, Archstar asked, “For how long?”

“Forever,” Silentclaw answered quietly.

It took several long moments for Archstar to figure out what to say to that, but finally Silentclaw saw him sigh and mew, “I was afraid that this would happen, ever since I realized that you must be the cat the prophecy was talking about.” Silentclaw wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she simply nodded. Of course Archstar would have made that connection, well before she had – he was the one to choose her new name. After an awkward pause he added, “If StarClan says that you should go somewhere else then it must be so. I will try and make the Clan understand.”

“Thank you,” Silentclaw purred, “I will miss everyone, but I won’t worry about the Clan – I know that they’re in good paws.”

The compliment seemed to make Archstar uncomfortable, and he mewed, “I’m not doing any better than you would. But I guess that StarClan has a different path for you. May they guide your paws, wherever you’re going.”

“May they protect the Clan while I’m gone,” Silentclaw replied.

---

It was past sunhigh when Silentclaw crept past the last scent marker held by any Clan nearest the place where the sun rose every morning; the place where Loststar told her to go. “Where do I go now?” she asked herself, as she peered at the unfamiliar terrain ahead of her. She’d never been very far outside of Clan lands before, and the few times she had it hadn’t been anywhere near this place. But though she was in the right place, she saw no sign of which way to go.

But after a moment of wondering if she was indeed doing the right thing if StarClan wasn’t going to give her some indication of which way to go, she remembered that Flintstar had also said that she had many memories that could only be remembered when she needed to. And, when she thought about it carefully enough, she found that she could remember another dream. She was at the Gathering place, surrounded by what must have been every cat in StarClan because they were gathered so closely that it was hard to see the ground outside of the circle around her. The nearest cats seemed to be those that were medicine cats during their lives, because she recognized a few of them – those who had died after her first Gathering. But many of them she didn’t recognize and they seemed to have such wisdom and held so much respect with the others that she sensed that they’d been with StarClan for a very long time.

“At the start of your journey,” an old she-cat began, “You must follow the rising sun until you reach a large Thunderpath.”

“You will cross smaller Thunderpaths before you reach it, but the right one will have stripes,” added a tom.

“And long spots!” mewed a kit from somewhere near the back.

Another tom noted, “There will be many Thunderpaths on this journey.”

“Yes,” agreed a she-cat, “And you will follow or cross many large ones with many monsters – you should watch the monsters carefully whenever you can do so safely to learn their ways. It will help keep you safe.”

But though she knew there was much more to that memory, that’s all that she could recall now. She’d rather have been able to get a larger sense of the journey and whatever the task was that she’d promised to do, but she told herself that knowing where to go next was enough.

It was the same for the rest of her long journey: no sooner would she reach one landmark than she’d remember the next. Sometimes there were other instructions or advice, much of it life saving. But she also lost lives – even though StarClan was directing her on a winding path that no doubt avoided many dangers, in some places even the safest route seemed to be perilous. She also met many cats and learned much from them, though she quickly learned that it was safer to avoid other cats if she could – most cats weren’t very kind to rogues.

Seasons passed, the moon came and went, and still Silentclaw padded along. Would she have agreed to this if she’d known that she’d travel for so long? And yet her belief that StarClan knew what was best was unshakable and the memory of when she’d agreed promised her that at one point she’d known that it was best too.

When she at last reached the Double Thunderpath, having followed a river to where they crossed, she was feeling her age. If she’d stayed with her Clan she’d have joined the elders for the proper reason – old age. But that was so long ago and far away that she didn’t begrudge that she was still plodding along when she might have otherwise rested. And she sensed that she was near her journey’s end because the further she’d gone the slower and harder it seemed to be for the cats in her memories to give her the next direction, and only what must have been the most ancient of the cats seemed to speak up now.

By the side of the Double Thunderpath she closed her eyes and searched her memory for what was next. But she remembered a great silence as the medicine cats looked at each other and shook their heads. “It’s too far out of my reach,” she heard one murmur. But then one last cat spoke up: Loststar.

“At the Double Thunderpath you follow it in the same direction as the monsters which past nearest to you. After that I can only sense freshly dug earth,” he mewed. So little to go on! But after Loststar spoke it seemed that no cat could give any more detail.

But Loststar wasn’t done yet because he added, “Then you will be very near the Place of Empty Skies. And to know for certain that you have found the right place, seek out a place where that which is touched by the moon can reach the stars. When you have found it, your journey will be over.”

At last! So very close! These were, perhaps the least specific and therefore most difficult to follow directions of all, but she would not give up now. Energized by that knowledge, she put a little extra speed in her step as she began to follow the Double Thunderpath and sniff the air. Almost there!