Warriors: The Golden Age

Prologue

Moonlight cast its tranquil glow on a clearing. The frailest of the trees surrounding the area shuddered in the ever-whispering breeze as it whistled through the wood. Far above, the first stars of the night glimmered with an unfaltering brilliance.

A dark crimson shadow slipped from behind a maple to sit in the midst of the clearing. A pair of eyes, gleaming amber in the night, gazed worriedly at the clear sky. The dusky reddish cat was like an apparition as he sat still, illuminated from above, caught in a soft beam of silver light. He turned, now fixating those orange depths on a violently rustling tree as a squirrel disturbed the leaves. The tom stared until his attention was caught by something below his own paws.

The cat leaned down, setting his head on his paws to watch the ground. An anthill protruded from it. Nothing interesting. Something about it, however, caught the tom's attention more than the vast and expansive sky and more than the life scurrying in the trees. He couldn't place it.

"Emberstripe! What are you doing there?" An irritated, high voice screeched.

Emberstripe turned around to see a small black she-cat standing and lashing her tail like crazy. Acornstar, he thought with an inward groan, probably the youngest leader we've ever had in ThunderClan. And she acts her age.

"As the medicine cat, you should make yourself useful." Acornstar ordered. "Now excuse me, I need to make dirt." She shoved past Emberstripe, pushing the tall tom to the ground as she marched off towards the dirtplace.

The medicine cat frowned. How immature of her to announce she was going to make dirt. At least she hadn't said it when someone was eating. Emberstripe turned away, lifting a paw to move towards the medicine cat's den. A grey she-cat he had never seen before stood in his path, her brilliant blue eyes reflecting starlight.

"Emberstripe." The voice was soft and clear.

"Who are you?" The tom demanded, shifting his shadowed paws.

"My name is Dovewing. Surely my Clan has not forgotten me yet?" There was a slight hint of laughter in her mew.

"Dovewing!" Emberstripe's mouth dropped open. "You're a legend. We would never forget you. But why are you here?"

"I must warn you." The she-cat with the smoky silver fur's voice grew serious. "The time of peace for the four Clans is ending. Unless it is stopped, war will consume the Clans of the lake."

Emberstripe listened in silence as she went on.

"Our hope lies in the paws of two. The wise and the intelligent. The watcher and the worker. The one who flies by night and the one who runs from light. They can use their power to destroy the Clans or to save them. They can cultivate their abilities or let them waste away. It is up to you to make sure their paws follow the right path."

Emberstripe blinked. "Dovewing..."

But she was no longer there.

Emberstripe bit back a yell of frustration, as he stormed into his den. Behind him, the moon continued its invariating cold shine down on the forest. In the clearing which had once been a quarry but now was lush with foliage, a owl flew through the trees on silent wings, wreathed in shadow. It soared up to the night sky, circled once, and was gone.