✧ Devious Fates ✧ | COMPLETE WARRIOR CATS FANFICTION STORY |

// Chapter One

A blossom sky aligned with stars reached over the horizon. A waterfall stormed down into another body, led into direction by rocks and other stones, fog floating in the air at the top. Trees that bursted in color were planted around as scenery. Thickets of undergrowth were placed at various places, flooding the clearing with life. A faded ginger she-cat was placed on top of a pile of rocks, her eyes darting over towards another shape that emerged out of the bushes.

The figure, a tortoiseshell molly, lifted her gaze, fixing it onto the other she-cat and slightly gaping at her view. "Dapplestar?" it mewed in curiosity. "You called me here."

Dapplestar took a moment to reply. "Yes," she replied wisely. "I have news. Once every cat arrives I'll announce it." Dapplestar was a faded ginger, former ThunderClan leader with brown freckles on her muzzle and neck. She had a long scar placed across her back, a torn ear, and a scar lined across her belly as a representation of her experience.

The tortoiseshell arranged beside her, glancing at the sky. She tried to keep patient and respectful towards the ThunderClan leader. She could not fathom how Dapplestar could stay tolerant of the time that passed while many problems needed to be addressed.

Dapplestar, I hope this is as important as you are putting it off to be, the tortoiseshell mused to herself. After moments of waiting, a figure slid through the bushes at the edge of the plot. The tortoiseshell stared at the brown tom that cursed to himself as he flicked branches from his pelt onto the ground.

"What'd you get my fur ruffled up for?" the brown tom spat. He shifted his eyes over to look at Dapplestar, who sat unaffected at the peak of the precipice. "Well?"

"The forest is falling into chaos," Dapplestar spoke, her fur ruffling up. The tortoiseshell lifted her head and bristled in fear, while the tom was expressionless.

The dusty tom's tail twitched. "Chaos is.. a choice of wording," he rasped. "I don't think it's quite accurate." The tortoiseshell looked at the tom in a bit of disbelief and a pang of sorrow.

"Spruceclaw," the tortoiseshell started. "Cherryfern, the old medicine cat," she paused for a second. "my mentor's mentor... was slaughtered in front of the Clan for having kits with another cat. She did break the warrior code, but she did not deserve such treatment. At least not in my eyes."

Spruceclaw froze for a moment. "Maybe it was gruesome," Spruceclaw responded, his voice traced with a twinge of pity. "But how else could Robinstar have conveyed her point? Her kits had contributed to a rival Clan, and one of them ended up killing Robinstar's deputy."

"Yes," Dapplestar admitted, shaking her head. "Too many deaths over border skirmishes. That is what I am here to address. Cats are not hesitating to murder a cat from another Clan."

Spruceclaw did not look up. "And your solution?" he asked curtly, not admitting if he was right or wrong. Dapplestar took a moment to reply, trying to raise suspense to grab the other cats' attention. Spruceclaw noticed, rolling his eyes.

"These blood-spilling traditions have been going on for too long," the tortoiseshell meowed. "Cats are losing faith in us."

Spruceclaw glimpsed over at the amber-eyed she-cat. "When we've stepped in we've only made things worse," he growled. "We should leave more freedom for the Clans. They can make their own choices."

Dapplestar intervened and meowed, "That's not the point." She continued, "Cats are dying. It is our turn to step in."

The tortoiseshell nodded. Spruceclaw scoffed, muttering, "As always, no cat listens to me."

"Two will shatter the path to chaos, their pelts gleaming to even the most stubborn of eyes," Dapplestar spoke, dealing a quick glance to Spruceclaw at the word "stubborn." She gaped her jaws again, meowing,"That is the plan."

The three shapes were then hurled into a vision. Dazed, they shot each other glances and shifted their gazes different directions. Two half-transparent figures stood in the middle of the dell, their optics glimmering with determination. Spruceclaw snorted in disgust as he noticed the lack of scars and muscle on figures.

"Who are they?" Spruceclaw spat. "Kits?" Dapplestar ignored him, staring with satisfaction towards the two figures. Her tail smugly curled around her feet as she watched with fascination towards the luminous shapes.

The tortoiseshell tried to identify the two cats' pelt colors, squinting her eyes. One looked a bit more furry; but they both were starry and bright. She couldn't help but stifle a smile.

"A prophecy!" she huffed in joy. "Two cats will save the forest!"

Spruceclaw's expression did not alter. "Quailfeather, you're always easily amused," he started, his eyes turning to slits. "You couldn't even notice how puny the 'Two' were!" Spruceclaw spat, before shifting over and fixed his gaze angrily onto Dapplestar's. "How could you think this could ever work?"

"Blood is not always the answer," Dapplestar mewed. She kept herself calm, keeping her hackles flat and expression composed. Spruceclaw whisked around furiously, deep in disbelief towards the two she-cats.

Quailfeather couldn't help but become uneasy. "I'm a mouse if you think this will ever work!" Spruceclaw hissed again. Dapplestar launched herself off of the ledge she stood on.

"I have received this prophecy," Dapplestar retorted. "It has great potential. Spruceclaw, you don't have a right to speak to your ancestors as such."

"Such a pity," Spruceclaw spat, veering around to face Dapplestar. "You don't have control of every cat in your life anymore."

"Is that so?" Dapplestar snorted. "Because it looks like I'm the only cat willing to stand up for the Clans."

"Did I just hear you right?" Spruceclaw countered, his voice laced with disgust. "We all want to retrieve the forest; but your ways are as poorly thought of as a kit's. If anything, you're going to be the one to destroy it."

"Your arrogance baffles me," Dapplestar insulted.

"Mine?" Spruceclaw discorded, his tail lashing. "You're the one tossing two inexperienced warriors into this prophecy! They have as much strength as an apprentice!"

Quailfeather's pupils paced around at the two quarreling StarClan cats in fear. She was pressuring herself to negotiate something. She should be best at this; she was a medicine cat, anyways. It would only be so long until some cat heard Dapplestar and Spruceclaw's bickering.

"I'll repeat it," Dapplestar hissed. "Blood is not always the answer."

"Really?" Spruceclaw snarled, unsheathing his claws into the ground. "Because some is about to be spilled."

"Stop!" Quailfeather finally screeched, her voice being drowned out by the faded ginger she-cat and the brown tom.

"You are disobeying StarClan's will," Dapplestar retaliated, her voice threaded with anger. Spruceclaw's fur rose in anger, and his ears fell back on his head. Quailfeather was afraid they were going to leap at each other; emerging into a clashing ball of fur.

She felt like she was helpless in halting the quarrel. Fear enveloped her, setting her fur standing straight up. Suddenly, a vision of blood-lust invaded her mind. All four of the Clans were staring lividly into each other's eyes and unsheathed their claws. They made a leap, hurling into a cluster of brawling balls of fur. Quailfeather choked inside of all the fighting. She felt claustrophobic. She couldn't move. She couldn't escape.

"Help!" she wailed. "Please..."

Quailfeather was useless. The fray grew worse. Cats cried out in agony and fury, swinging out with brutal claws and razor-sharp fangs. There was a great war approaching.

Quailfeather snapped open her eyes. Dapplestar and Spruceclaw had vanished. Was I the only one to see the vision? Quailfeather padded across the clearing. She felt her heart thumping in her chest. The vision suddenly erupted into her mind again, and she felt a shiver crawl up her spine. Weak, wounded figures stammered onto weary paws, lunging back at each other with savage blows.

But something soft touched Qailfeather's paws. She glimpsed down.

A hawk's feather stood at her feet.