Split: Book One: Dimming Embers

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 20

The amber sun glowed dim and warm against the deep shades of gray sky. Translucent clouds drifted delicately over the quiet surface, stained with scarlet and the faintest speckles of cold. The air was still and silent, disturbed only by the distant shift of waves far below. The cliffside was smooth and cold beneath Darkfire's paws, and the she-cat couldn't suppress a shudder as an icy wind trailed past her pelt and sent ripples through her fur. She leaned in closer to Crowsight, who had been sitting beside her.

"It's cold," she murmured, curling her tail around herself. He smiled slightly.

"Yeah," he said. "Winter's just about here." There was another moment of silence between them as they sat, the sun sliding lower into the sky. Far above it, the purple ink of night stained the scarlet, creeping into view as the faintest stars began to glint softly on the far horizon.

A harsh cry echoed across the horizon, and eleven dark shapes swooped into view. The crow's dark wings beat fiercely as they flew alongside the current of the wind, blue-tinted feathers reflecting against the golden sunlight as they banked sharply upward. Harsh cries echoed from their beaks as they danced and dove through the otherwise silent air, fierce wings mastering the wind as a fish's fins would the currents. Darkfire watched, silent, as they completed one more sharp loop before their dark silhouettes vanished behind dark clouds.

"Eleven crows," Crowsight murmured from Darkfire's side. She turned her gaze on the tom and met his eyes, which were round and glittering nervously. "Eleven crows means a surprise. Something's about to happen. Secrets revealed."

Darkfire blinked at him. Figures he'd know a bit about his namesake.

"That's just superstition," she meowed dismissively, flicking her tail. "But I'm curious- What does it mean when you see just one crow?"

Crowsight tilted his head. "That's the easiest one to remember. It means that something super, super bad is about to happen. Some kind of tragedy. Terrible luck."

Darkfire felt sick to her stomach. Unwarranted, her mind flashed back to her last day in EmberClan. Laying motionless on the ground, a single crow had landed before her. She remembered its every shimmering feather. She remembered its dark eyes and its harsh call. Shortly after, she had been sentenced to execution.

Darkfire's breath quickened, and her claws dug into the stone so hard that she felt the tip of one chip, shooting bolts of pain through her. Her vision spun as she tried to regain control, sobs pushing their way up her throat.

Crowsight's forest green eyes widened, and he quickly wrapped his tail around Darkfire and pulled her close.

"Hey, it's okay," he whispered. "You're safe here."

Darkfire's body shook with sorrow, and she was too breathless to respond. There were so many things she wanted to tell him. So much tragedy that she couldn't find the strength to share. She buried her face in his fur and cried harder.

It felt nice if she was honest with herself. She hated showing weakness around others. She hated asking for help. But it was all too much. She had gone through so many things that she didn't want to remember.

She pulled away even as tears still slid down her cheeks. She shook her head a few times, trying to regain control over herself. It was no good to wallow in self-pity.

"Are... you okay?" Crowsight asked hesitantly, reaching out his forepaw to rest on Darkfire's. She couldn't make herself meet his gaze.

"I miss them," she whispered, her voice trembling and cracking. "I miss them so much."
"Miss who?" Crowsight murmured, his voice lowering.