Warrior cats: The Silent Path

Chapter 14

The cat that stood in the middle was Branchstar, behind him two other cats, as he took a closer look he saw two little bundles under the third cat.

"Shatteredpaw, it's me, Saptoes," the largest cat said. Shatteredpaw's eyes grew wide. So that's what his mentor looked like. The tom was larger than Branchstar, his pelt was glittered with stars but his fur was long and his eyes had a tint of green. On the other side of Branchstar stood a smaller skinnier cat with the two kits.

"This is Willowfur," Saptoes meowed flicking his tail to the slim cat. Willowfur's gaze was focused on the large rock that stood in the center of the clearing, as if she had not a clue there were other cats around.

Shatteredpaw held himself from bounding to his mentor in a breath taking embrace. For some reason, none of this felt real to him. How come they all waited so long to see him? Along with this feeling, he still held resentment towards his mother. What right did she have visiting his dreams, when she couldn't bother visiting him when she was alive. Underneath Willowfur were two kits huddled together in a bunch, which he guessed were the two kits that didn't survive.

"We've come to warn you," Saptoes meowed. "A great threat looms in your way," the tom pressed. Saptoes gaze looked concerned he didn't look at all happy to see him.

"What danger?" Shatteredpaw meowed, stepping to his mentor. Shatteredpaw had already killed the rogue, wasn't the danger gone? As he did so, Saptoes took a step back with a pained look in his eye. Was Saptoes angry with him?

"Beware one who walks a dangerous path," Branchstar echoed. Branch'Star and Saptoes both dipped their heads and slowly faded away. It was his mother who remained, still staring at the large rock with an unreadable expression. Her gaze shifted to him with a blank expression, and a heartbeat later she and her kits were gone, and everything went dark. What did it all mean? Who was he to be weary of? Wasn't it the silver cat who had told him he'd done the right thing? Saptoes seemed disappointed in him. It was not at all how how Shatteredpaw wanted his mentor to see him. Shatteredpaw wished he knew what they were saying to him. It was a medicine cats duty to interpret these things, but it seemed like he wasn't too good at it. As these thoughts filled his mind, the familiar glow of the silver cat appeared to him in the abyss of darkness.

"Your destiny must grow," the tom meowed. Shatteredpaw narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Follow the path that leads to greatness, so that one day you'll have the power to bring peace," after the silver tom spoke he too faded. 

His words seemed different from Branchstar's. There seemed to be two prophecy's, or at least the same one. Was the sliver cat guiding him on his journey? His words were more direct and made more sense. Was killing the rogue the right thing? After all, he was supposed to be a medicine cat, not a murderer. 

He could feel his heart pounding at the thought. Would his clan accept him after his actions? Would the clan forgive him?

The voice answered his thoughts, "it was necessary. You saved the clan and all the others of anymore deaths of that rouge. If your own clan cannot see that, then they're wrong."

*                  *                 *

Another moon went by and that night it would finally be full moon. Shatteredpaw's wounds recovered, although his belly was all the more sensitive, and occasionally grew sore whenever he was anxious, usually from horrid dreams of the orange rogue. Had the rogue dug any deeper, he would be crow food, and he wasn't sure StarClan would accept him. He wondered what would happen if StarClan didn't accept him, and where he would go.

Shatteredpaw spent his days in the medicine den, too dispirited, and frankly, too afraid to leave. He hadn't the patience's to deal with the snarky or painful remarks of some of his clan mates, or the tension rising towards him. He spent his time reviewing and learning more herbs and treatments. He was surely a master by now, the only thing he needed to work on, according to Cloverfeather, was compassion, which had little of. Treating cats who didn't accept him, minus a select few, was hard for him.