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The night was endless, purple hues dancing with pinks and blues, stars conjoining to create intricate patterns in the sky. A mist had rolled in, snaking its way past ferns and rocks, until it sloped into a dip in the ground like a gentle waterfall.
A soft rustle sounded as a cat walked forwards, and a few more followed suite.
“Pace yourself, Carvel.” A massive tom spoke up. “You’ll trod on a thorn.”
Carvel sniffed, his tail held high. “I know I’m right.” he meowed.
“Maybe you are, but must we rush?” A smaller she-cat yanwed, her whiskers twitching from the strain. “You woke me from a great nap.”
“The Council must be here. You know the law!” Carvel snapped. “Trust you to forget, Iris.”
“I did not forget!” Iris spat, before flattening her fur. “I just…merely refused to remember. Right, Creek?”
The massive tom, Creek, let out a deep sigh. “Let’s get on with it.”
One by one, the three cats circled the dip, every now and then placing a paw in to disturb the surface, the mist slowly beginning to swirl like a hurricane. Finally, Carvel reared up and thumped both front paws in, and light erupted from the misty dip.
Iris’ eyes rounded with wonder, her mouth agape.
“I told you!” Carvel yowled with joy. “There’s another message!”
“Get on with it then, you old fool!” Creek spat, though his tail twitched in amusement.
Carvel dug his claws in, muttering softly, before his fur stood on end, and his eyes glossed over with a golden sheen.
“The stars have fallen tonight. Their shards lay in pieces, and only those freed from the blinding darkness can place them back into the sky.”
Iris tilted her head, though Creek looked thoughtful.
Carvel shuddered as the mist parted, leaving just the dip in the ground, and his blue eyes returned to normal.
The silence went on for several more heartbeats before Creek spoke up.
“The stars have looked different tonight. Crooked, even.”
Iris gazed up, tilting her head side to side as if trying to see a difference. “Asta’s star is in the wrong place.” she confirmed.
Carvel straightened and sat back on his haunches. “Why they can’t fix their own stars…” he grumbled, but Creek laid his tail on Carvel’s shoulders.
“The Requiem don’t hold the power of the stars, my friend.” his purr rumbled with amusement. “We’ll have to call on old friends.”
“But what if they’re not up for it?” Carvel fretted. “They’re much older now!”
Iris cleared her throat. “Who you two on about?”
“Our old group.” Creek murmured.
“Still old.” Carvel muttered.
“Maybe so.” Creek meowed, gazing up at the stars. “But there’s someone new among them.”