Warriors: Cloak of Time

= Prologue =

Nothing could cease the furious twinkling of an encrusted escape, not even the looming memories lurking beneath their broken smile.

Low-hanging and floating in tainted tufts across the skies, a fog of misty uncertainty drifted in a steady tempo following the rhythm of thunder rumbling in disappointing crescendos far in the distance. Flecks of lightning spattered the grey clouds coating the sparking sky with a dismal warning, flashing abruptly with a weak electric snap crackling through every bolt. Though the weather was unpredictable damaged, it was the pure bliss StarClan was depicted as that remained untruthful. A facade of clear nights and sparkling lights, all tales used by elders to ease their minds as they inched closer and closer to an abyss of loss.

Something unnatural hung over StarClan, a cloak that could not be removed from its hanger. A cloak of deceit and guilt.

The ground crunched as a cat wandered across the plains, alone. A thawing frost lay atop it standing stiffly in defiance of those intimidating it. Though she wandered in low spirits, she couldn't help but crack a smile at the satisfying sound made with her movement. She held onto the little things that made her spirit worth while, for they were the only things she had left. Speckles still littered her pelt with remembrance, haunting her nightmares when she dared to close her eyes. They were pinpricks made in her final moments, pinpricks that destroyed a life worth living. The tumbling sensation, impending pain, it still crept upwards and encased her soul when her moods were lifted. A monotone attitude kept them at bay, and smiling did not keep within the lines of fake content; the frost no longer satisfied.

Indentations of her paws left a mark behind her as she searched the land for a familiar face. Her russet appearance resembled that of a dulled flame, a foxy twinge to her tail. Flames flickered in her deep amber eyes, swirling misery hidden from plain view. Her fur, ticked with the mark of the dead, twinkled vibrantly with bounce of her being, a masquerade of pureness she couldn't keep up for much longer. She sought out a consultant, someone her heart throbbed for at the simple sight of his ash grey pelt. He was pinpricked in the same manner, but his remorse was far different; much lost, nothing missed.

"Scorchkit?" she called hopefully. "Do you hear me?"

"I do," he responded, his voice lost in a distant echo as it dispersed into the air.

Ears perked, she started forward with haste, following the scent now mingled amongst the damp smog lying overhead. Between the fine tufts of fog that impaired her vision, a small figure of sublime innocence pushed through the boundaries of sight, his eyes wide. She breathed with relief as he brushed up against her, his figure no larger than the day his life terminated.

"How do you fair?" she asked in genuine interest, lapping at his fur.

"Well," he answered, a mature voice unsuited to his demeanour. "I hunt well despite the weather, and my friends keep in good spirits."

She purred. "I'm glad to hear."

Scorchkit sat before her, wrapping his tail around his speckled grey paws. "And you?"

She sighed in defeat, lowering her gaze. "I can't say I fair well with such a burden on my shoulders."

"A burden of what?" he questioned her in bitter confusion. "You carry no burden, only questions of what should've been."

He paused, struck by another prospect. "That's how you should feel."

She exhaled a dulled laugh of disagreement. "How can I only question when I took you down with me? You should be a warrior by now, yet you still resemble that of a kit."

Scorchkit groomed his paw respectively, admiring the daintiness of it. "It has been a while since we fell, I don't understand why you still feel the same."

She lifted a paw and brushed it across her son's face, feeling his soft fur against her claw. "You look so much like your father."

He smiled, emotion pulsing at his big blue eyes. "I miss my father, he made me feel safe."

She frowned. "And I don't?"

"Auburnrose, how can you? Each time I look at you, I see my mother, but she's broken."

She scoffed. "They say time's the greatest healer of all, but my wounds still sting."

Scorchkit brushed against her, sensing her frustration as it prickled her fur outwards. Auburnrose tried to find solace in her son's company, but she couldn't. She began to shake, a calm stature now riddled with anger more sour than the flavour across her tongue.

"Time's precious, Scorchkit," she spat.

He whimpered. "Mistakes are futile, we learnt the hard way."

Auburnrose shook her head, fury rippling across her spine. "There was no mistake, we did not fall because our balance broke our strength."

Scorchkit froze, stepping away from her. He backed away and stood rigid in her view, scanning her amber appearance in fearful wondering. She shook with anger, her paws quivering with the knowledge she kept private in her blood. It boiled, drained her of all peace, and soon it would break free of her and leave a mess behind it.

"We did not fall. We were pushed off that cliff. I felt claws against my back, it still makes me skin crawl," she drawled sinisterly.

"Are you sure you do not mistake claws for thorns? We are still pricked," he asked, offering a different perspective.

She did not hesitate to reject it.

"No! I know what I felt, I know what happened the day we died, it was no accident."

"Murder," he breathed.

A filtered light cloaked with darkness suddenly, blocking the haze keeping their faces alit. Their outline crusted with twinkles that did not suit their muscles build, and the shadows across their face kept their identity masked. A claw outstretched from their paw and it glinted in the light. A silhouette from the past, one that did not belong in a twisted future.

"Yes."

• • • • • •

Surprisingly enough, it isn't a Century admin here! This was written by Hazel, I'm very happy I got the opportunity to introduce this fantastic story. From Century and Decade, thank you very much for 1000 followers, and I hope you enjoy this story!

- Hazel from Decade