#cedarsky

Everything was silent. Every hair still, every mouth gaping open in awe as the three cats stared at the glowing Moonstone. Its light illuminated the cavern in a silver-blue glow.

It occurred to Rainbur that since Cedarsky had only recently chosen to become Shadowclan’s medicine cat, all three cats were seeing this wonder for the first time. 

The stone before them was glowing with the light of Starclan, even if the source was of the moon. Rainbur couldn’t help but wonder, as he stared at the brightness, if his ancestors were staring right back from within.

At last, he realized that he should touch his nose to it before the moon shifted and the light was gone. He padded forward until he was a whisker away, then crouched low. Breath quickening, he pressed his muzzle against the Moonstone before he could hesitate any further, holding back a flinch as the freezing surface numbed his snout.

At first, nothing seemed amiss. Then Rainbur noticed that the black spots behind his eyelids were spreading like thin tendrils, bending and twisting together until his vision was plunged into utter blackness.

Were they rejecting him?

Had it not been a vision Houndpaw had had after all?

Was he not good enough to lead Shadowclan?

A drop, like a white spider web dangling in the center of his eyes. Rainbur blinked. When had he opened his eyes? The string grew, trodding gracefully, and others began to sink through the air and to the ground as well, where they too grew in a gentle dance.

As the outlines neared, their details became more obvious. They were cats! Rainbur could hardly resist a gasp. Their ears, whiskers, tails, they were all too clear to be mistaken for anything else, and Rainbur felt foolish for thinking them as simple strings.

His heart pounded. So many eyes were suddenly on him as they circled, blocking him in. Would he have felt such judgment if he were becoming leader under different circumstances? If the leader before him had not promised to Starclan to lead well only to turn around and murder his own Clanmates? They still gave him nine lives in spite of the horrors he had inflicted. Would they now decide to spurn Rainbur of any? Would they see Shadowclan as too unfit for anyone to lead?

“Breathe,” a voice whispered softly. Rainbur would have thought that it was a trick of the mind as a breeze passed his ear, but the air was still. He looked around the starry pelts, mind dizzy with the amount of cats that were watching him, until someone stepped forward.

Outside of the ranks of what must be at least several dozen silver pelts, the cat’s colour became clearer. “Mom!” Rainbur gasped. His throat tightened all too quickly, blocking all he wanted to say to his lost kin.

But his mother smiled warmly at him, as if she heard it all anyway. “My darling kit,” she said quietly, “you have been through so much grief, yet you’ve done more for the Clan that even you realize.” She leaned forward, touching her nose to Rainbur’s head. “With this life, I give you bravery. May you carry it in your heart as you do I, always.”

Rainbur’s eyes stung, but not because his head felt like it was going to split open. Oatflight still smelt as she did when he would nurse at her belly. He wished so much that he could retreat back to those peaceful days, where all he would worry about was if he won the next came of mouse-catch. But he wasn’t a kit anymore. He was a warrior, he was going to be Shadowclan’s leader. He would not hurt them as Alderstar or Myrtlewing did. He would stand between his Clanmates and anyone or anything that dared think it could hurt them, even at the cost of all nine of his lives.

All too soon, Oatflight stepped away and disappeared in the crowd. Rainbur’s heart sank, but it lifted again when the next cat stepped forward. “Never thought I would see the day,” Owlfang sniffed good-heartedly. 

Rainbur swallowed past a massive lump. “You…You look happy.” His last memory of his brother had been of a dug-up rotting corpse with worms for eyes. It was hard to believe that he was looking at that same brother now, not alive but clearly healthy and at peace. 

Owlfang nodded. “I am now. You will be, too. I promise you that.” He touched his muzzle to Rainbur’s head. “With this life, I give you endurance. Know that Shadowclan will be at peace one day, and have the strength to lead them to that certainty. I am proud of you, brother.”

“I..I..” Rainbur wanted to speak, to say how he wished he had protected Owlfang, how he missed him so much, but his chest was on fire and for a few moments that felt like an eternity, he could focus on nothing but the flames within his ribcage. The sparks spread throughout his entire body, fueling his muscles until he felt as though he could climb any mountain, fight any beast, so long as Shadowclan could reach that era of peace.

A third cat was already in front of him when the power of that life faded. Rainbur’s heart sank at the little one before him. He had to bend down to level with her.

“Hi, Rainbur!” Fernpaw purred. “It’s an honour to be giving you a life today.”

But you shouldn’t be giving me a life. You should be in camp right now, sorting through herbs and rhyming the plants until you made a song. Rainbur wondered if she still sang little tunes in Starclan, or if Myrtlewing took that joy from her too. “It’s an honour to be receiving a life from you,” Rainbur replied out loud.

“Then let’s get to it then.” Fernpaw pressed her nose against his cheek. “With this life, I give you loyalty. May it motivate you to protect those you love and those who love you, and may it never lead you astray for the sake of anyone but your Clan.” There was a shadow over Fernpaw’s eyes. She was thinking of her mentor, the one she had cared for so deeply. The one who had murdered her for the sake of someone else. 

The shadow loomed over Rainbur, tightening around his entire body until he couldn’t move his lungs. He gasped for air, desperate for it, and right when he was sure he was about to pass out, the weight lifted and he drank in every breath with relief.

“Steady,” a she-cat advised. Rainbur whirled around. He planted his paws firmly in the ground, using every muscle in his legs to resist racing toward the cat.

Dawnmoth, his adoptive daughter, looked at him with a twinkle in her eye. “Hi dad.”

“H-hi.” Was all he could say back.

Chuckling, Dawnmoth padded forward until her whiskers flattened against the side of his muzzle. “With this life, I give you hope. Give it to your Clanmates as you gave it to me when my father died, and use it for yourself to lead them through any hardship.”

The stinging pain seared through Rainbur’s skin like an icicle. But it didn’t feel like an invasion, instead it was a shield that surrounded his heart, protecting it from anything that could weigh it down. It wasn’t lost on him that every life that he had so far received had mentioned something about putting his Clanmates above everything else. He wondered if every ceremony included such words, or if it was only his because of Alderstar.

Dawnmoth pulled back. Rainbur forced the pain down enough to be able to lift his head and meet her eyes. “I miss you,” she told him. “Tell Silverwhisker to name one of her kits after me, alright?”

“I don’t think I have to tell her.” Rainbur smiled.

Dawnmoth turned and padded back into the crowd. The cat beside her took her place, walking forward and pressing his chin to Rainbur’s head before any words could be exchanged between them. That was always Branchfoot’s way. 

“With this life,” he father spoke, “I give you conscientiousness. Trust yourself to know in your heart what needs to be done, and use your power as leader to accomplish it.”

“I will,” Rainbur promised. There was no pain this time, only a warm presence like a nuzzle on every part of his body. He waited patiently for the next cat, and it wasn’t long before he was facing her.

His brilliant apprentice, Pineshade. “You have come so far,” she murmured. “I’m proud to have been your apprentice.”

“And I your mentor.”

Pineshade purred. Leaning, she rubbed her cheek along his. “With this life, I give you courage. Use it as you fight every battle, from war to a thorn in your pad, and use it especially whenever you doubt yourself.”

Rainbur felt his muscles rippling beneath his pelt. He wanted to face every shadow, every fang, every claw and dare it to hurt anyone he loved.

“Trust yourself. You will be a wonderful leader,” Pineshade assured him.

“He will,” someone agreed. 

Rainbur’s heart warmed with love and ached with loss. “My love,” he whispered sadly.

“Oh, don’t give me your tears,” Blossomtuft rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re supposed to be a big strong leader now, remember.” She pressed her nose against his with such strength that Rainbur knew she, too, was resisting curling her whole body around him and never letting go. “With this life, I give you humour. Use it when everything seems bleak as the light through the darkness, because sometimes it is all we have and all we need.”

She kept her muzzle against his throughout the power of her life. It was Rainbur that had to, after a while, pull back. “I will see you again, dear,” Blossomtuft promised him. 

Rainbur watched her leave, eyes stinging once more, before turning his attention to the next cat.

Amberthistle was smiling at him as lovingly as Blossomtuft. Blossomtuft had died of sickness around the same time Amberthistle and her mate had separated. In their heartbreak, Amberthistle and Rainbur got together, raising their daughters as sisters. 

“Dear..” Rainbur murmured.

“Hello, love,” Amberthistle replied softly. “Don’t worry, I know I won’t be your mate when you join us. It’s okay, I’ll love you still.” She pressed her chin to his snout. “With this life, I give you love. Let it power your every muscle and motivate your every action. And in the rainiest of days, let it allow you to see the sun.”

By the time the life faded, Rainbur was struggling to stand. He tried to count in his head how many lives were left, but it felt cracked and broken around his skull.

“Rainbur” an unfamiliar she-cat’s voice spoke, as clear as a thought within his own head. He turned to the side to see a tall, unfamiliar black she-cat with bright green eyes. “I am Shadowstar,” she greeted. “The first leader of Shadowclan.” 

Rainbur gaped, hardly able to process who was looking at him, talking to him.

“You have such a burden on your shoulders, but I trust you are the leader that Shadowclan needs.” With that, she touched her chin to his ear. “With this life, I give you forgiveness. Forgive your Clanmates for the mistakes they make. Forgive yourself for things you cannot take back. Forgive the past when it haunts your mind, and forgive the future when all it seems to hold is darkness.”

A warm, honey-like liquid feeling dripped along Rainbur’s spine, loosening every knot and dispersing every ache, until his entire body felt entirely unburdened and clear.

Shadowstar dripped her head low, then through it to the air as she yowled to the sky. “Rainstar! Rainstar! Rainstar!”

The clearing echoed with thousands of voices, all chanting his name.

“Rainstar!”

“Rainstar!”

--Fernpaw was delivered by Myrtlewing (possibly alongside littermates).

--She became intrigued when she saw Myrtlewing care for her sick sibling, or another kit in the den, and decided to become a medicine cat.

--She didn’t think much of it when Myrtlewing kept her in the den a lot to sort through herbs while he ‘collected herbs,’ as most medicine cat apprentices and mentors do the same thing.

--She really liked him and thought that he was kind.

--Visits to the Moonstone frightened her because the dreams were odd (they were warnings about Myrtle. Too bad Starclan speak in riddles). Myrtle twisted their meaning when she confided in him about them.

--She was killed by Myrtlewing while she was eight moons old to take away the last medicine cat the Clan had. 

--She was possibly out while with a Clanmate, likely relative and even likelier her father.

--The Clan went without a medicine cat for a while because with their leader, deputy, and medicine cat gone and two of them murderers, they didn’t want thr Clans to think they were weak. Eventually they gave in after Rainstar gained his nine lives.

--During this period, Fern’s father found himself trying to help his sick Clanmates.

--Her father decided to volunteer as the Clanmate the other Clan’s medicine cat would train in order to honour his daughter.

--Her father requested changing his name when his training was finished, changing his suffix to ‘fern.’

--Parents might be Mossflake (mom) and Cedarsky/Cedarfern (dad)

--Because they were Shadowclan in the old forest, the medicine cat most likely came from Thunderclan or Windclan.

He was probably such a good hunter, just look at him! He would blend into the shadows so well

Myrtlewing woke to the feeling of being poked with a claw on his nose. He flinched back. “Ow!”

Aldereyes stood over him, because of course it was him. “Get up. You're coming with me to train.”

Myrtlewing shifted to a sitting position and yawned. “You do realize that I’m a medicine cat, right?”

“Of course I remember. It’s the only position you could have where no one would judge you for fleeing in a battle. No one’s sick,” Aldereyes added. “The Clan should learn how to fight against bigger enemies.” He said that looking briefly to the ground. 

Fleetsong had died three days ago. Myrtlewing had initially planned to sneak back through the dirtplace, but because Fleetsong ended up being mauled by a dog, he didn’t have to pretend. He told them the truth, or part of it–that Fleetsong offered to help him gather herbs while he was still awake, and they were attacked by a dog. Myrtlewing managed to climb up a tree in time, but Fleetsong wasn’t so lucky.

He forced himself to frown in spite of the very different emotion he felt. Fleetsong hadn’t died right away. The dog was chased off by a dawn patrol–another blessing for Myrtlewing, because it meant that he might have been caught if not for the beast. Fleetsong was then brought back to camp, where Myrtlewing would heal him. Poor tom was so terrified, knowing the truth but unable to tell it. Myrtlewing gave him some special herbs, and that was it. He had hung his head after that, telling Stormstar that their Clanmate was already too far gone.

“I’m a medicine cat,” Myrtlewing repeated, “I don’t need to fight.”

“I can tell that by looking at you. But you almost died.” Was that a shimmer  in his eyes? “And as useless as you are at everything you do, you’re the Clan’s only medicine cat and we cannot afford for something to happen to you.”

Right. Myrtlewing smirked. That’s why.

He followed Aldereyes out of the den and to one of the training clearings, making sure to tell Mossflake where he would be and to fetch him if anyone needed him. 

The training had already begun by the time they arrived. Molespots and Pricklepelt were circling each other, while Hootpetal and Cedarsky wrestled on the ground. Upon seeing Aldereyes, they straightened and watched him, waiting for instruction. Myrtlewing couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of pride at the respect their Clanmates held in his friend. Aldereyes wasn’t even deputy, and he was younger than Molespots and Pricklepelt by many moons, yet they still looked to him for guidance. 

He kept mostly on the sidelines, but listened intently as Aldereyes gave instructions, explaining to his Clanmates how to fight a bigger predator in contrast to another warrior, and when he asked Molespots and Pricklepelt to share any knowledge they had on the topic. After all, he may need to use this information one day, whether as prey or predator. 

“The best element of all,” Aldereyes was saying, “is surprise.” With that, he whipped around and tackled Myrtlewing, who was behind him, without warning, grabbing him by the shoulder and flinging him to the ground. Myrtlewing only blinked in startlement as Aldereyes pretended to bite his throat. 

He felt it was all so funny. Only three days prior, he had done the same thing to Fleetsong, only much harsher, shoving the tom onto the forest floor and slitting his throat with his claws. Aldereyes would make an amazing killer. 

—-----------------

After the training was over, the group parted. Aldereyes took Pricklepelt and Hootpetal to hunt, only after hinting to Myrtlewing that maybe he wouldn’t have been so easy to tackle if he had some muscle–which Myrtlewing most definitely did. 

Myrtlewing told them that since he was out, he would gather some herbs, and passed up the offer of traveling with a warrior. The dog had been chased back to its Twoleg, and both were long gone by now. Plus, there was the most obvious reason: he was hoping to meet with Nightfly, and didn’t want anybody to see him.

Arriving at the border, he was pleasantly surprised to see the dark grey tom already pacing back and forth along the scent line. 

“Hello,” he called.

Nightfly leaped into the air, landing semi-gracefully. When he saw Myrtlewing, he practically ran over. “Hi!” he called back, hardly able to contain his smile. “I wasn’t sure if, you know, I was supposed to come here. Was I? You’re not just here for an unrelated reason? I’m sorry if you are–”

Myrtlewing gave him a reassuring smile back. “I’m here for you.” 

“Oh!” Nightfly somehow seemed to both stiffen and melt. He looked around, as if distracting himself from the mixing feelings, and his eyes landed on the crumpled patch of flowers. “Good thing you gathered them when you did,” he said jokingly.

“Yeah,” Myrtlewing mumbled. Should he still use the flowers to cheer Aldereyes up, as he had planned? It had been a while since Stormstar–or Maplefall–had gotten on the golden tom’s nerves. There was still the flower that Nightfly had picked for him, laying on the ground apart from the others. It was in much better condition than its counterparts, since it had no longer been part of the bush when Myrtlewing clawed it apart in frustration. 

“Speaking of….” Nightfly’s voice began to trail away, and he forced it back up. “I…I spotted another flower on the border here. It wasn’t part of the ground or anything, and there was nothing like it around, so I was wondering if maybe that meant that it was left. Or maybe the wind just blew it,” he added quickly. 

“I was hoping you would find it,” Myrtlewing told him. He had taken Molespots’s advice. When the older tom had suggested flowers after Myrtlewing said that he wanted to show someone he cares, it gave him an idea. Of course, he didn’t mean it romantically, but he could certainly trick Nightfly into thinking that’s what simple plants means. The fool was already quivering any time Myrtlewing looked at him. 

He went with hyacinth, hoping its bright colours would make it stand out against the yellow-green moor. “We can’t talk long,” he went on, “patrols will be coming by.”

“Right!” Nightfly’s tail fell. 

“This was great, though,” Myrtlewing went on. “I like seeing you.” He wanted to vomit at his own words, but Nightfly brightened once again. “We should do it again. Perhaps at the next Gathering?” 

“Sure!” Nightfly’s eyes practically flooded with affection. Then his attention flicked to something behind Myrtlewing. “Itwasgreatseeingyoutoobye!” and he was off, leaping back over the hill. Myrtlewing glanced behind him and saw a Shadowclan patrol approach. 

“Who was that?” they asked.

“Just a Windclan warrior,” Myrtlewing answered. 

“Okay, well we’re heading back to camp after this,” Briartalon, who was leading, spoke. “Do you want to come back with us?”

“Sure,” Myrtlewing responded. His eyes drifted to the dark petals at the bottom of the hill. Padding over, he picked the flower up in his jaws, and followed his Clanmates back to the camp.

================================

--Myrtle likely got the flower from a Twoleg garden

--Finally getting to the ‘Alder thinking Myrtle likes him’ part!

--His Clanmates likely won’t use the ‘how to fight a big predator’ moves on him if he tried to kill them, but best to listen just in case they tried to.

And then his surviving daughter has a son that wants to become a medicine cat and Cedar trains him.

Also thinking about how Cedar's son has a kit that becomes leader, making Redscar and Flowerstar who are cousins twice over med cat and leader, but instead of like Alder and Myrtle they're the good guys!!

It came as no surprise to anyone that Cedarpaw became a fantastic hunter. After all, his pelt made for perfect camouflage in the shadows. As well, it made him a valuable fighter when battles took place in darkness. 

Because of his talent for hunting and fighting, he was popular among the apprentices, and was the crush for Mosspaw.

Mosspaw herself was shy and, in her eyes, weird, so it was quite a surprise for her when Cedarpaw returned her affections after several moons being oblivious.

Cedarpaw felt bad that Mosspaw was so surprised, and spent their courtship wanting to prove her worth to her. This often involved sneaking out at night with her for private training sessions, strengthening familiar movies and creating new ones just for her. It worked! Mosspaw's already great moves became even better, and she soon earned her warrior name alongside Cedarpaw's.

He would have earned it a couple moons prior, being older, but had purposefully messed up long enough to be able to be named and stand a vigil with his very soon to-be mate.

After some time together as warriors, they had their first litter, Elderkit, Grasskit, and the runt, Fernkit, who both parents were just as proud and just as devoted to. He had been overfilled with pride when they became apprentices--Fernpaw choosing to become a medicine cat apprentice--and overfilled with grief when Fernpaw died.

He tried to protect her, slashing at Myrtlewing, but he was too off-guard, too slow. 

He couldn't stand the look on Mossflake's face as she learned what had happened, or Elderpaw or Grasspaw. He never wanted to see any of them hurt ever again.

That is way he decided to become a medicine cat, to honour Fernpaw's legacy as well as to protect what he had left of his family.

He had to be trained by Windclan's medicine cat alongside Houndpaw. After it was complete, his name was changed at his request. He was now Cedarfern, so that his daughter could live on and save their Clanmates just as she had always wanted.

------------

She was always the softest one of her littermates, inspecting 'injuries' that occurred during playing, even sending her brother, Elderkit, to the medicine den when he was pushed awkwardly onto his tail, despite his protests.

It came to no one's surprise when Fernkit decided to follow in the path of a medicine cat. And Myrtlewing was friendly and caring, or so they thought. He would make a fantastic mentor.

After Alderstar was revealed as a killer and chased from the Clan, Myrtlewing went after to 'check where he went and make sure he didn't come back.' Fernpaw, like the rest of them, was confused and frightened. But of course she didn't think of herself, only others. She worried for her mentor and of how he would handle the news of his most trusted friend.

Cedarsky took her out of the camp for a walk, hoping to calm her nerves. Out there, they were found by Myrtlewing--grieving after finding Alderstar's body--and he jumped, biting and clawing her belly and then running off before father or daughter could react with more than enraged slashes.

why is he injured?