“Healers have a unique connection with Starclan, as you know, it’s something secret and private.” Cinderpelt tells him. “You can’t just see a spirit, like you’re talking to another cat. They just can’t appear like that. But leaders live on the line between warrior and healer. Yes, you’re a lot more similar to healers than you think. I can’t say, because I haven’t seen it myself, so I can’t tell you what is going to happen to you in there. Oh, and Fireheart, you can’t tell any cat what you see. Not even me, understand?”

Fireheart had been here as an apprentice, but now it feels so different. He can’t stop thinking of Bluestar.

Fireheart closes his eyes.

He’s in the Thunderclan healer’s den. Bluestar is there, looking younger than Fireheart had ever known her. She’s with a cat Fireheart had never seen before. The healer before Spottedleaf, maybe? A tall white tom with long fur.

“Featherwhisker, I don’t understand.” Bluestar says.

“Bluefrost, listen to me.” The healer has a strange look in his eyes, like he’s not fully in his body. Or something else is there instead. “You bring fire with, blazing a trail burning across generations. And like fire, water will be the destruction of you.”

The scene twists and blurs and fades before Fireheart’s eyes. Next thing he sees, it’s late at night, atop a hill Fireheart remembers seeing in Thunderclan territory. Bluestar and Spottedleaf sit together, and before either can say anything, the dark night sky explodes into a blaze of swirling colours. Like fire.

Fireheart shuts his eyes tight against the sudden brightness. When he opens them again, he is once again somewhere else.

“Prove it then! Act like a warrior and finish me off. You’ll be doing me a favour.”

Fireheart knows this moment. It’s strange seeing your memories from outside of your own eyes. He knows what happens next. You seem in an awful hurry to die. Fireheart watches as Firepaw leaves to fetch Yellowfang fresh prey. Seeing the scene again makes Fireheart only miss the old healer more than ever.

Fireheart feels a presence behind him. He turns, and behind him stands the starry form of spirit. The pelt of the tom is streaked with starlight. He looks somewhat like Spottedleaf.

“You don’t recognize me.” The spirit says. “You never met me, but you helped me in a way no other cat could.”

Fireheart puts it together instantly. “Redtail?”

Redtail nods. “I must thank you Fireheart,” he says. “You revealed the truth of my death. You stood by Ravenpaw and did not let that truth go unheard. You didn’t even know me, but believed I deserved to be remembered correctly. Thank you.”

“Of course!” Fireheart says. “Any warrior would have done it, if they had known!”

Redtail smiles. “Fireheart, every leader’s ceremony is different. The trail of fate has led you here, a trail made beyond The Stars. Are you willing to step forward and take on this responsibility?”

“Yes.” Fireheart has never been more certain.

Redtail presses his forehead against Fireheart’s. “With this I grant you a life for compassion. Mercy can be a more important skill than any battle moves taught.”

Fireheart feels a rush of soft warmness overwhelm him. It’s soft, but strong at the same time. The feeling fades, but not fully.

When he next opens his eyes, it’s to another memory.

Fireheart watches himself discover Littlecloud and Whitethroat, watches as he berates Cinderpelt for letting them stay and then… Seeing on his own face the moment he relents.

“You’ve always done the right thing.”

Fireheart turns sharply. Ahead of him is the spirit of Silverstream, looking almost the same as Fireheart last saw her.

“Silverstream,” Firestar says. “I- I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be.” Silverstream raises her head proudly, looking like the daughter of a leader. “I chose my path and nothing could ever make me regret it. I only wish I could have had more time with Featherpaw and Stormpaw.”

Fireheart nods. He used to think he would never understand Graystripe going against Thunderclan to be with Silverstream, but now he’s not so quick to dismiss the relationship.

Silverstream looks at the frozen memory of Cinderpelt, Fireheart and the Shadowclan warriors. “You do what is right no matter the circumstances. You take a stand when others do not.” She steps forward and presses her forehead to Fireheart’s. “With this I grant you a life for doing what’s right and acceptance of outsiders. Not just kittypets and rouges, but half-clan cats, cats from other clans and-” She pauses. “Cats who live or love outside the warrior code.”

“I didn’t think you were allowed to give lives for two things.” Firestar jokes lightly.

Silverstream winks and grins sharply. “Maybe I’m just special.” She jokes back.

When Fireheart blinks it takes him to a moment he just experienced, which surprises him a little. It’s the moment he chose his deputy.

Whitestorm had told him to make the right decision. And there was really only one cat he could choose. There had been one cat with wisdom and age, one cat who had challenged him in his wrongful judgement, one cat who was smart and calculated in ways Fireheart wasn’t.

He watches the moment he announces Goldenflower as his deputy.

The scent of sweet herbs and flowers fill his senses.

“Spottedleaf…” Fireheart figured she would be here. To him, she looks the same as she did in life.

“I wish I had so much more time.” She sighs. Spottedleaf moves closer to him, first brushing her flank against his side, then pressing their foreheads together. “With this I grant you a life for wisdom. Use it to guide your decisions.”

The life feels calm, and subtly strong. Before he can say much, she’s gone.

He doesn’t recognize the next memory.

He watches a much younger version of himself crouch in one of the brightly-coloured twoleg bushes. The strong scent nearly overwhelms him. Fireheart’s younger version tucks himself deep in the bush, giggling loudly. He waits, then pops out of the bush, running right into Princess, who falls playfully.

Fireheart feels his eyes water at the sight. He can’t believe he’d forgotten this. He knew that Princess, who was from an older litter, still came around to play with him when he was a kit. Fireheart wonders if she remembers.

The next spirit is another he doesn’t know. He thinks she looks familiar, and he assumes he knows someone she’s related to.

“It’s still there.” The white molly says, starlight glittering in her blue eyes. “The love. You’re lucky enough to be surrounded by it, to be able to find it anywhere. My name is Snowfur. Whitestorm is my son.”

Whitestorm’s mother… so that means…

“Yes,” Snowfur laughs. “Bluestar is my sister.” She presses against Fireheart. “With this I grant you a life for love. Never take it for granted. And remember that family is not only blood. From now on Thunderclan is your family.”

Fireheart is expecting something soft, and finds himself surprised.

This life is strong and powerful and sharp and blazing, and it burns through Fireheart. He has to grit his teeth to bear it.

In the next memory, Fireheart watches himself share tongues with Brindleface face while they both watch Cloudkit play with Ashkit and Fernkit.

“The youth of the clan is the life of the clan.” A voice says behind him. Fireheart turns to great the next spirit.

“Gorsepaw?” Fireheart had barely known the young tom, so it takes a second to recognize him. Fireheart feels a pang of guilt at the fact Tigerstar killed the apprentice because of him. To prove a point. The thought makes him feel sick again.

Seeing the spirit’s small form, curiosity burns through Fireheart. Gorsepaw seems to anticipate his question.

“When a cat dies young, in a way they are given new life.” Gorsepaw says. “They do not stay young in Starclan, they are able to age. And they get full names.”

“What name did you get?” Fireheart can’t help but ask.

Gorsepaw smiles. “I haven’t decided yet.”

The apprentice steps forward to give his life. “With this I grant you a life for youth.”

The life feels light, and brings back happy memories Fireheart had half forgotten.

In the next memory it’s storming. Fireheart watches himself sitting in Windclan camp. The storm is strong, and there are several Windclan and a few Thunderclan warriors with injuries, yet the mood feels light. Fireheart remembers this battle. Past Greystripe joins past Fireheart and the two talk. About Fireheart sparing Silverstream.

‘It’s not my place to judge you.’ Fireheart remembers saying. ‘Greystripe, whatever you decide to do, I will always be your friend.’

The next spirit Fireheart does not know. She does not speak at first, her eyes misty and clouded with emotion.

“My name is Leopardfoot.” The spirit says. “I am- I was Tigerclaw’s mother.”

Fireheart freezes. It’s strange, he had never considered the fact that Tigerclaw would have had to have a mother. Parents. Cats who loved him.

Leopardfoot must have seen everything her son did, Fireheart thought, burning with curiosity.

Leopardfoot looks down. “I’ve seen it all.” She admits quietly. “I won’t try to justify it. That isn’t why I’m here.”

Leopardfoot looks up, eyes shining. “With this I give you a life for forgiveness. Our mistakes should not define us. Giving second chances can be akin to mercy.”

The life blazes through Fireheart. He’s starting to weaken from the constant power of the lives.

“Keep strength,” Leopardfoot whispers next to him. “You’re almost through.”

Then there is fire. Heat blazes through Fireheart’s fur, and he instinctively cringes back.

He remembers this, Thunderclan camp burning. He watches himself drag Patchpelt up and out of the ravine then look back. Fireheart feels himself get choked up, looking at Yellowfang in the middle of the burning camp. He watches himself freeze, looking at Bramblekit clinging to the branch. The moment he chose to leave Yellowfang behind.

Why this memory! Fireheart’s heart aches.

Then, the heat fades, and Fireheart sees a spirit he had been waiting for.

“Bluestar!” Fireheart feels like an apprentice again. Bluestar looks just like he remembered, just like how she looked when they first met. All the signs of age and pain and grief are gone. It brings Fireheart a little comfort. His mentor had deteriorated quickly in life, with stress and defeat, becoming an almost complete stranger from the cat he had known. But now, the spirit looked strong and full of life.

Bluestar smiles gently. “I’m proud of you. I did so much wrong in my life-”

“It wasn’t your fault!” Fireheart protests strongly.

“But I can still acknowledge it.” Bluestar says. “I still hurt many cats, including myself. Just ask Brightheart.”

“You came to Thunderclan for a reason.” Bluestar insists. “I didn’t understand the prophecy at first, but I knew you were important. You saved the clans, yes, but you’ve done so much more. You have the true heart of a warrior, something that is being forgotten now. You have the power to change everything.”

Fireheart pauses. “What do you mean?”

Bluestar shakes her head. “All I’m here for now is to see you become the leader I knew you could be.” She presses against Fireheart, bringing him a comfort that feels long forgotten. “With this I give you a life for courage and inner strength. Use it to defend Thunderclan to your greatest ability.”

The life brings back the feeling of fire, burning, strong and bright. It brings Fireheart to the ground. Bluestar presses her chin atop Fireheart’s head before leaving.

Surprising Fireheart, the memory doesn’t change. It just moves.

“Fire!” His own voice rings out.

Fireheart remembers it all as he watches. Watches himself direct the clan, giving orders and leading Thunderclan out of the fire. And as he watches, seeing the events outside of himself, he catches it.

They respect him. He’s not sure why it’s so surprising. Every cat he talks to, Mousefur and Longtail, the queens, Cinderpelt, Sandstorm, Whitestorm; in their eyes he sees their trust in him. He watches himself guide Thunderclan to safety in Riverclan territory.

Fireheart blinks, and then, standing before him, is the most beautiful spirit he has ever seen.

This must be the oldest spirit in Starclan, Fireheart thinks. The spirit is a cat, sure, but much, much more starlight than cat. He can barely tell the colour of her fur, maybe ginger? She’s larger than most cats, half her body made of clouds and stars, glowing with old power. Fireheart feels small in her presence.

When she speaks, while she doesn’t sound old, her voice echoes with ancient power.

“Fireheart of Thunderclan,” she purrs, rumbling like thunder. “Every eighth life of a Thunderclan leader is given by me. I have seen every leader and have passed the leadership of Thunderclan onto them. I am the first.”

“Who are you?” Fireheart asks in quiet awe.

“My name in life was Thunder Rumble, but in these days cats call me Thunderstar.”

Fireheart feels his mouth dry. The first leader of Thunderclan?!

“Yes.” Thunderstar says. Lightning dances between the clouds that make up her fur. “I am the one who created Thunderclan. And, as is tradition, with this I give you a life for leadership. I pass Thunderclan into your paws.”

Fireheart feels the life strike through him like lightning, fast and powerful. As he grits his teeth, he adds up the lives in his head. There is only one left.

The next memory is less of a memory and more of a remembered feeling. Behind his eyes he sees flashes of his own clanmates. It feels like thousands of memories of them hit him all at once. Fireheart looks back and knows, deep in his heart that he trusts them. He suddenly gets the strange feeling that they are all somehow a part of him.

Fireheart waits for his last life. He knows exactly who it’s going to be.

Yellowfang looks exactly as Fireheart remembers her. While she looks healthier and slightly younger, she still looks like the same grumpy elder healer that he knew in life. Her wide orange eyes seem to glow.

“Surprised to see me?” The old molly croaks, although her voice sounds somewhat stronger.

“No.” Fireheart answers truthfully.

Yellowfang grins a crooked grin. “Well I’ll be honoured,” she jokes, but Fireheart can see the sincerity behind her eyes. “So, you are almost through. You think you’re ready for what waits for you on the other side?”

Fireheart nods wordlessly. He’s had a lot of time to think about it. Yellowfang seems content with this, although a little hesitant. The memory of Fireheart and Yellowfang’s last conversation overtakes him.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Fireheart admits, choking up with emotion. “I wasn’t able to tell you. You really were like a mother to me.”

Yellowfang’s eyes widened in shock. One of the last things she had told him was that she wished Fireheart had been her own son instead of Brokentail. I was just never able to tell her back.

Fireheart hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until he felt Yellowfang’s long fur press against his. It brings him warmth.

“With this I give you a life for trust. If Thunderclan did not have enough trust to take me in, I would have wandered lost and alone until my death. Without trust, you could be alone while surrounded by cats. If you can not trust your clanmates, you do not trust your clan, Starclan or yourself. Thunderclan trusts you as their leader, so you must trust them.”

Where the other lives sapped Fireheart of some of his strength, this one fills him with energy. When we trust in each other it gives us power.

Suddenly, Yellowfang is gone and Bluestar stands in front of him.

“Hail, Firestar.” She says. “From this moment on, your old life is no more. You have been granted guardianship of Thunderclan. Defend it well, care for the young and old, honor your ancestors, traditions, and the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity. Hail, Firestar of Thunderclan.”