Chapter Text
A small, clear pool sits smooth as glass in the center of a misty clearing. One by one, four cats, sparkling with starlight, emerge from the undergrowth around it, taking their seats in a circle around the water's edge. As if on cue, dozens of other starry cats file in and settle in the clearing around them, waiting, watching.
The first to speak is Bluestar. “A new prophecy has come upon our Clans,” she announces. “Everything we have foreseen in the stars is about to be changed.”
Across the pool from her, Deadfoot nods gravely. “I have seen the prophecy as well, and it will bring great challenge.”
Bluestar inclines her head to him, and in the echoing voice of prophecy recites, “ Darkness, air, water and sky will come together, and shake the forest to its roots. ”
“A great storm is coming,” another voice adds, a ShadowClan cat not many would recognize, inside StarClan or out--Scorchwind. But this night is not about the fame of cats long dead. It’s about the purpose of cats whose lives have not yet begun.
The word storm ripples amongst the gathered cats like falling rain, grows until it equals the sound of thunder rolling over WindClan’s moors, then falls away in a rush as Bluestar lifts her tail. The silver pool ripples.
“We begin. Every Clan has chosen a cat and put forth a representative to declare their choice tonight. RiverClan will go first. Crookedstar?”
The tabby leader, standing behind the pool, shakes his head and nods to the silver she-cat stepping up to the water's edge. “I’ll stand in for RiverClan,” Silverstream says, and curls her tail around her paws as she stares into the pool.
The surface ripples again and a gray and black blur rises in the water. The cats of StarClan crane forward as one to look, and Deadfoot of WindClan remarks, “She will not go without her brother, no? RiverClan can’t choose two cats, and you may as well be here.”
“If he insists upon going it makes no difference to me,” Silverstream replies. “What difference does one cat make?”
“You know as well as anyone that one cat can make worlds of difference, Silverstream,” Crookedstar says quietly. “But it is a good choice. She was excellently mentored, wasn’t she, Bluestar?”
“Of course she was,” Bluestar answers stiffly. “StarClan, do you approve of this choice?”
The starry cats murmur amongst one another, first in uncertainty and then assent. The pool ripples once and the image disappears. Scorchwind steps up next.
“I’ll stand for ShadowClan,” he says simply, and stares into the water just as Silverstream had. This time the blur is ginger colored, reddish, and Bluestar nods as it comes into focus.
“He’s a good cat. Loyal, proud...maybe a bit too proud.”
Scorchwind bristles. “He will serve the prophecy better than any cat in ShadowClan! Pride is not a crime.”
Some cat mutters something about this being the best ShadowClan could do, and Scorchwind spins with a hiss, as do several other ShadowClanners.
Bluestar waves her tail to quiet them and dips her head to Scorchwind. “I meant no offense, I only worry it might hurt his relationship with the others on their journey. If this is your choice, it is a good one. StarClan?”
Reluctantly the cats murmur approval and the image ripples away. Bluestar nods to Deadfoot, who steps up. Immediately a black figure appears on the water.
“But she’s an apprentice!” Scorchwind splutters. “And she isn’t even Clanborn!”
“I know what she is,” Deadfoot replies. “She’s a good warrior, and the Clans would do well to learn the strength of their youth and the wisdom of those outside our borders. She is my choice. You may disapprove if you like, but WindClan will send no other cat.”
“Apprentices should never be discounted based on their age. Our history is full of the bravery of our younger cats,” Bluestar reminds Scorchwind. “And don’t forget the leader of my Clan was once a kittypet, and one of our other chosen cats is half-Clan. Blood means little next to the strength of a warrior’s heart. She’ll do nicely.”
The rest of the cats once again lift their voices in agreement and the shape disappears as Deadfoot nods, satisfied. Finally Bluestar approaches the pool.
A lean, tawny shape appears on the surface.
Some cat in the crowd snorts. “You’d choose a cat who wanted to leave her Clan? I wouldn’t have thought ThunderClan approved of disloyalty.”
“She’s as loyal as any cat,” Bluestar says sharply. “Smart, as well, and diplomatic. I think this prophecy needs a dose of cats with paws outside their own Clan, if they are to band together and stop this storm. Now, can we approve this choice, or must we debate every cat that appears in this pool?”
The cat shrinks back into the crowd, but does murmur assent with the rest of StarClan as the shape disappears. Bluestar lifts her head to address the other three cats.
“Dawn is coming. Go to your chosen cats, tell them of this prophecy in their dreams. We don’t have much time to waste.”
The four of them disperse, bounding away to reach their living Clanmates, and slowly the rest of the starry warriors retreat as well, leaving behind the empty clearing filled with nothing but mist and a smooth silver pool.