"Pass me some more of that coltsfoot, will you?"

    Cedarheart's tired voice sounded muffled from inside the medicine storage and Nightpaw glanced around at the surrounding herbs at the healer's request, searching out the herb. His head spun with all the different scents and, as hard as he tried, he could not remember which herbs were which.

    "Which one was that again?" he called.

    "The one with the white and yellow flowers," Cedarheart called back. Looking down, the black tom saw two different herbs with that description. Sighing in frustration, he picked up both and padded into the storage to show them to the healer.

    "The one with the stalk," the brown tabby said without even looking up. "The other one is celandine. You can leave both here, I'll be sorting celandine soon anyway."

    Nightpaw nodded, turning to leave the storage only to find it blocked by Mothpaw's small form. A large black root hung from her jaws, which she dropped next to the coltsfoot and celandine.

    "Burdock root," she explained, sensing Nightpaw's confusion. "Used to prevent infection from rat bites."

    "Excellent find, Mothpaw," Cedarheart praised, picking the root up and carefully laying it in a crack in the rock wall. "We've been running low on it. Did you have any luck with the tansy and thyme?"

    Mothpaw shook her head. "I only managed to find some more juniper and lavender."

    Cedarheart let out a long sigh, tail flicking nervously. His eyes travelled over the contents of the storage once, then again, until finally he turned to the two apprentices.

    "Mothpaw, why don't you show Nightpaw how to put away these herbs? I'm going to see what else we have lying outside." The grey she-cat nodded, clearly excited to be in a teaching role. Nightpaw was much less enthusiastic about the prospect, but remembered he should not complain. Though his nose twitched constantly with all the surrounding scents, Hailwatcher had assigned him to this task and he was determined to carry it out obediently.

    "This one's for cracked or sore pads," Mothpaw said as she picked up the coltsfoot. "Also helps to ease kittencough." Nightpaw watched as the she-cat picked the herb up with gentle paws, handling it as tenderly as a mother might a kit. The tom couldn't help but admire the she-cat's skill and memory when it came to herbs, despite his lack of enthusiasm about the subject.

    "What's this one for?" he asked, touching the celandine flowers tentatively.

    "It soothes damaged eyes," she replied, rescuing the plant from his clumsy paws and storing it next to the black roots she brought with her.

    "You seem to already know so much," Nightpaw said, struck by the fact she had only been an apprentice for a moon.

    Mothpaw shrugged. "I have to. Cedarheart only has so long to live."

    The genuine sadness in her voice caught Nightpaw off-guard. The silence that followed her statement hung around them like a rain-laden storm cloud, a reminder of the constant fear Mothpaw lived in.

    Taking a deep breath, the tom sighed. "If it's any consolation - "

    "It's not," the healer's apprentice cut him off. "Don't try to help me when you can't help yourself." Her green eyes went wide as she realized her outburst and, murmuring something about collecting more juniper, she ran off.

    Bewildered by her words - and if she could possibly know about his connection with StarClan - the tom stared at the opening to the medicine storage. Then, realizing he needed to clear these obsessive thoughts, he shook his head. Perhaps Mothpaw was right and he wasn't hiding his affiliation with StarClan as well as he thought he was.

    Fur bristling slightly, Nightpaw poked his nose out of the medicine storage, hoping to get some more direction from Cedarheart. A new scent hit his nose almost instantly - that of one of DarkClan's warriors. Sniffing, the tom did not pick up the scents of blood or sickness. Curious why a warrior would visit the healer without a cause, Nightpaw remained hidden, ears twitching as he listened to the healer and warrior speak.

    "I can't do it, Cedarheart, it almost killed me last time!" the warrior whispered frantically, her voice filled with fear.

    "Swallowstorm, I understand," the healer replied. "But remember that I have very little influence on the pairings. I was nearly named a traitor for protesting Blackstrike and Minkfur's match."

    Nightpaw's ears pricked up at the mention of the pairings. Dawnstar announced them three sunsets ago and, outwardly, the Clan had no complaints. Again, the apprentice thought about Sootstar's words on 'true selves'.

    "I know, Cedarheart," the she-cat replied. "And I am grateful for my kits, really, I am. Duskwhisker, Thistleshade and Sprucetail are all fine warriors. Mothpaw is turning out to be such a fine healer and Bramblepaw, Shadepaw and Wrenpaw are doing very well in training. But I fear that I will not survive another pairing with Sleetfur. I almost didn't survive the last one with Rowanstorm."

    A new sound reached Nightpaw now, as if the air itself were quaking. Surprised, he realized the she-cat was sobbing.

    "Swallowstorm, listen to me," Cedarheart said, voice hushed. "You can do this. You're strong, a brave and loyal warrior in everyone's eyes. No one suspects a thing and you will pull through this. Do you understand?"

    The gulps of air that followed told Nightpaw that the she-cat was nodding in agreement.

    "I need to," she said quietly. "The only other choice is death."

    A sharp intake of breath from Cedarheart. "Sometimes, that is the only choice. Perhaps then, at least, we will be reunited with all those who came before us."

    The surprise at the healer's admission of an afterlife made Nightpaw shoot up to his paws. Without a second thought, the tom stepped out of the medicine storage. It took a moment for Swallowstorm's look of horror to register but, when it did, the apprentice realized his mistake.

    The wide-eyed she-cat lowered herself into a crouch, shaking with fear. The sounds coming out of her throat were half growl and half whimper, a sound more desperate than any Nightpaw had ever heard. Cedarheart took up a position between the warrior and the truth-teller's apprentice, claws unsheathed.

    "How much did you hear?" the healer asked, his calm tone opposite to his protective stance.

    "Most of it," Nightpaw replied, unsheathing his own claws in case the healer decided to strike. Then, thinking back to his latest training session, he sheathed them again, knowing he would most likely not survive a battle with even the untrained healer of DarkClan.

    "Please, don't turn me in," Swallowstorm pleaded, eyes now shut tight. "Please, I don't want to die." Her voice broke as she spoke.

    Nightpaw closed his eyes slowly, squeezing them shut as his mind raced. Should StarClan remain a secret, one that threatened to rip him apart? Or was it time to tell others of their existence, endangering his own life and the lives of the cats he told?

    Breathing deeply, the apprentice picked his words carefully. "I will not turn you in; either of you. I have been wondering for some time if the harsh, ambitious warriors I see daily are real or just a facade that adheres to DarkClan's restrictions."

    The shock on Swallowstorm's face might have made Nightpaw purr if not for the terrified pounding of his heart, while Cedarheart's expression remained impassive. The healer twitched his whiskers, gesturing for the apprentice to continue.

    "I... I can see through some of these masks now," Nightpaw said truthfully. "I worry about how the true selves of everyone in the Clan might lead to their deaths, and I think constantly about how their qualities would have made them fine warriors in the Old Life. But, that is not the world we live in."

    He took a deep breath, surprised at his own courage for speaking so brazenly and honestly. His thudding heart rose into his mouth at Cedarheart's next statement.

    "So what do you suggest we do?" The healer's eyes burned into him, a mixture of hope and a plea for help.

    "I suggest we hide as best as we can for now," Nightpaw replied, kneading the ground with his claws nervously. The treasonous words slipped out of his mouth much faster than he had anticipated. "Keep this to ourselves. I need to see if there are others within the Clan who might believe as we do that DarkClan's restrictions cannot stand. Then, we may have the numbers to change the course of the Clan's history."

    Swallowstorm's sharp intake of breath made the apprentice jump and he turned to the entrance of the medicine den, dreading what he might see. But, in the next moment, the black and white she-cat brushed up against him, licking his ear affectionately.

    "Thank you," she whispered. "I can't thank you enough."

    Nightpaw shuffled his paws. "Don't thank me yet. We haven't done anything."

    She nodded, pulling away. "You're right. But remember that all life-changing events start with singular actions."

    The apprentice felt his fur grow warm at the awed look in her eyes and he quickly turned to Cedarheart. "Do you really believe in our ancestors and the afterlife?"

    The brown tabby paused for a second before giving an affirmative nod.

    Nightpaw lowered his voice. "They do exist. Sootstar and Finchwatcher have visited me in my dreams. StarClan is still there, but they are fading. If we want to use their guidance, we must believe in them once more and hope they can help us find a better way of life."

    Cedarheart's jaw clenched in determination. "If that is all we can do for the time being, then that is what we will do."

    Eyes moving between the she-cat and the healer, Nightpaw suddenly noticed how light he felt, as if a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Relieved that his admission didn't seem to have any repercussions just yet, he found himself twitching his whiskers happily. The thought of Hailwatcher and Dawnstar made his heart drop once more.

    Seeing the shift, Swallowstorm draped her tail comfortingly around his shoulders. "Don't worry just yet," she advised. "We won't betray you, and I hope you will do the same." Nightpaw nodded, making sure the she-cat knew he would not harm her.

    Her eyes softened and she licked back a tuft of his wayward fur. "You're very much like your mother," she said. "Curious, introspective, honourable. She was a great cat, but she was not meant for DarkClan's way of life."

    The tom's eyes widened at the mention of his mother and he could almost physically feel himself inflate with the number of questions he suddenly had about her.

    But Swallowstorm had turned away, heading for the medicine den's entrance. With one last look at the two toms, she said, "I will keep this a secret. But, in order to keep suspicions away from treachery on my part, I will have to go through with the pairing."

    Nightpaw saw the she-cat's whiskers droop at the words, her face suddenly appearing much older and more weary.

    She sighed. "I wouldn't want to end up like your mother." Her earnest eyes met Nightpaw's yellow ones before she disappeared.

    //

    After the apprentice's admission, Cedarheart refused to speak with him any more and sent him back to Hailwatcher, stating that Nightpaw's time might be better used honing his reflexes. The truth-teller seemed taken aback but agreed with the healer's point. Nightpaw suspected Cedarheart just wanted to avoid discovery of their treason, as well as the apprentice's burning curiosity on the subject of his mother.

    The unanswered questions filled his head throughout training practice with Spiderthorn, distracting him from even the most basic of techniques. Once or twice, the apprentice found himself turning to his father, the question on the tip of his tongue. Each time, Spiderthorn's sharp commands and barked orders cut him off.

    Perhaps it's for the best, Nightpaw thought as the guardian rounded on him once more, heavy paws clouting him on the ears.

    Yet, the question remained, burning brightly in the back of his mind no matter how hard he tried to dim it.

    By the end of practice, the tom could hardly stay on his paws, body exhausted from training even as his mind continued to race. Spiderthorn gave a disapproving shake of his head upon seeing Nightpaw's tired state but remained silent.

    The High Rocks of camp cast long shadows upon the ground in the light of the setting sun and Nightpaw saw his own stretch out before him - a tall, thin figure with stick-like legs and an overly long tail. Beside it, his father's formed a much more formidable shape, the legs thicker and more muscled.

    Spiderthorn moved off to join Dawnstar where she sat before the Speaking Rock feasting on a hare. Nightpaw flinched imperceptibly as the guardian settled down beside DarkClan's leader, briefly touching his nose to her scarred shoulder as a sign of respect before tearing into the freshkill. Eyes narrowed, the apprentice turned away from the scene, hoping to avoid Dawnstar's gaze.

    Muscles aching, Nightpaw retreated to the apprentice den, passing the freshkill pile without a second glance. His mind still buzzed, though a faint cloud of disappointment at his lack of battle skills now coated the other thoughts, and he wanted nothing more than the black blanket of sleep to silence it. Curling up in his nest, he squeezed his eyes shut.

    A rustle in one of the other nests caused him to open them again and he found himself looking straight into the copper eyes of another cat. They blinked at him and he blinked back, studying the way the copper colour seemed to ripple. The last time he saw these eyes they shone with worry and pain.

    Remembering his admissions in the healer's den, Nightpaw raised his head slightly. "Wrenpaw, I'm sorry."

    The she-cat stiffened, but her scent told him she was not angry. She remained still for a moment, the only sound between them that of their soft breathing.

    "No need," she whispered, curling up. Sensing his confusion, she added, "I've realized my mistake."

    "Mistake?" he echoed.

    She nodded. "Wanting to care for you."

    Despite his screaming muscles, Nightpaw found himself getting to his paws. Wrenpaw gazed up at him with clear eyes void of emotion, watching him settle right beside her, so close he could feel her warmth through his thick fur.

    "I think," he said, choosing his words carefully, "that wanting to care for others is not a mistake."

    She remained quiet for a time, studying his face. Her own betrayed nothing and Nightpaw wondered how she could remain so blank. Where was the curious, energetic Wrenpaw of only a moon ago? Had she begun to believe in DarkClan's cause or was it simply a mask?

    "But it is a mistake," she finally said, voice cracking slightly as he got his answer. "Love is weakness and attachment is forbidden. Hailwatcher says so all the time."

    Nightpaw could sense the hurt in her now, radiating in waves as she searched his face for an answer. He knew if he told her any different, he would put both of them in danger; as the truth-teller's apprentice, adhering to the rules of DarkClan came first.

    He took a deep breath. If he had any hope of rallying enough cats to overthrow DarkClan's cruel leadership, he needed to start pushing the boundaries. Starting now.

    "It's only a mistake if you get caught."

    Nothing.

    And then, the faintest glimmer of mischief.

// The truth finally comes out! Will it come back to hurt Nightpaw and the cats he has trusted with his secret? Perhaps he has trusted the wrong cats with his knowledge? So many outcomes and consequences! D: And then there's that little part at the end, for all of you NightxWren shippers.

Now, completed unrelated to the story: Happy New Year, everyone! I spent most of that night curled up in a blanket, drinking tea and going through an entire box of tissues. My nose is practically rubbed raw at this point, and so red I might as well be Rudolph, but it didn't stop my boyfriend from giving me that New Year's kiss (:

I love reading your comments, so let me know how your own New Year's went! (Any predictions about the future events of this novel are also very enjoyable, though). Have a restful Sunday and good luck with school as it starts up again!