The interior of the truth-teller's den seemed cold and harsh, no longer the same soft moss Nightpaw saw the first time he stepped foot in the hollow log. With leafbare it had turned prickly and brown, though Hailwatcher seemed not to notice. The spotted tom settled in a patch of it, shoulders sagging as if unable to hold his own weight.

    "There is a story I haven't told you yet," the truth-teller began. Nightpaw settled across from him, discomfort pricking at his fur. He took extra care to make sure his tail didn't twitch as the old tom continued.

    "Greypaw was a rather loyal apprentice and she always made sure to take her mentor's words to heart. Her sister, Deerpaw, was a little more adventurous, showing her ambition through her disregard of her mentor's commands. Despite this, the Clan seemed to like Deerpaw for her antics much more than Greypaw for her lack of them.

    "When the time of their warrior assessment arrived, DarkClan was shocked to find that Greypaw, always so mindful of the rules, had failed to observe one of them. She was made a caretaker, her full name Greyflower, while Deerpaw passed the assessment with flying colours, becoming Deerfrost.

    "Greyflower was very unhappy with this outcome. Her first season cycle as a caretaker passed uneventfully, with only a few mishaps that earned her a scratch here and there. The second turned out to be the complete opposite: with a kit missing from the nursery, the caretakers were blamed. Only Greyflower survived.

    "In the meantime, Deerfrost rose through the ranks of the Clan, first mentoring the only living kit of the leader, Lichenstar, and then going on to become a guardian. Interestingly, Deerfrost still insisted on visiting Greyflower in the nursery, even as she grew in power. Seeing her littermate's success, Greyflower became jealous and began to form a plan.

    "She approached Deerfrost at the beginning of the third season cycle, begging her to help her escape DarkClan. Deerfrost, perhaps moved by some memory of their past together, agreed. In the middle of the night, they crept from the camp, heading for the Twolegplace.

    "A patrol caught them as they were leaving and a fight ensued. In the fight's midst, the patrol suddenly realized that Deerfrost was not, as they had first assumed, trying to escape with Greyflower. The guardian had wrestled her littermate to the ground and, even as the caretaker struggled to get free, the more powerful she-cat held her tighter. Finally, Greyflower stopped moving."

    Hailwatcher paused, as if letting the story sink in, but Nightpaw was already acutely aware of the similarities between the story and his current reality. He narrowed his white-rimmed eyes when a sudden thought struck him.

    "Don't trust anyone, not even your littermates," Hailwatcher said quietly, a sheen over his eyes. "You never know who will betray you to rise above the rest in DarkClan."

    "I don't believe Deerfrost wanted to betray Greyflower." Nightpaw's own voice surprised him as he put his thoughts into words. "I think her rebellious nature made her want to help Greyflower, even if it was just to defy DarkClan for a single night. The only reason why she ended up killing her littermate was fear - fear of death. When the patrol caught them, Deerfrost realized that the only way to escape it, and the punishment that would come for both of them, was to make herself appear loyal by killing Greyflower. It was also the only way to truly set Greyflower free."

    Hailwatcher blinked his blue eyes slowly, taking in Nightpaw's words. The black tom shifted, balancing his weight beneath him should his mentor suddenly attack him.

    But the old truth-teller did no such thing. The anger that flitted across his face briefly disappeared in a blink, replaced by a weariness that Nightpaw had come to know all too well. It was the look of the defeated, one that spelled death.

    "I fear for you," Hailwatcher said. "I have nothing more to teach you." With a lash of his spotted tail, the tom sent his apprentice away.

    //

    The first thing Nightpaw did was visit the nursery. Dawnstar had stepped out, much to his relief, and he found Cherrypool, the closest in colour to the DarkClan leader, curled around the kits. Besides Lightkit, who thrashed about in an uneasy sleep, the kits snoozed gently, little bodies still. On the other side of the nursery, Thistleshade rested with Rainkit and Reedkit tucked against her belly.

    "Cinderblossom?" Nightpaw called softly, walking to the back of the den. He found the grey she-cat curled around Webkit and Crowkit. The kits' sides rose and fell in a gentle rhythm, but the newest caretaker's body shook uncontrollably.

    Suddenly, the tom wasn't sure what to do. Gingerly, he stepped over the clumps of moss that littered the nursery floor - the remnants of the previous day's games of moss ball, he assumed - and wrapped his body gently around his littermate's. He licked her ear comfortingly before resting his head on hers, his breaths deep and slow against her shallow and erratic ones.

    Slowly, they grew more steady, until finally her sides rose and fell in time with his. A movement at the nursery entrance caused Nightpaw to stir. Fearing Dawnstar's return, he gave the sleeping Cinderblossom one last affectionate lick before heading out.

    He stopped short when Spiderthorn and Flamestrike entered the nursery. He dipped his head respectfully to the guardian and DarkClan's newest warrior. The brand new scars on the ginger tom's shoulder still glistened with beads of red.

    "You did well today," Spiderthorn said after a moment of silence. He did not look at Nightpaw as he spoke, eyes trained instead on his newborn kits. Lightkit continued to squirm, mewling in her sleep.

    "You did," Flamestrike added, meeting Nightpaw's yellow eyes with his amber ones. There was a certain fear in their depths, one Nightpaw had not noticed before, accompanied by an awe he wasn't used to seeing in his littermate.

    "It'll be my duty once Hailwatcher is gone," Nightpaw replied. "I might as well do it properly."

    Spiderthorn quieted their conversation with a flick of his tail. The two littermates watched as he lowered his head to Lightkit's pale tortoiseshell body and the she-kit instantly stilled. Nightpaw heard the quietest of purrs escape the guardian and he found himself wondering if Spiderthorn ever visited them when they were kits.

    "'Properly' is a vague term," the guardian said quietly.

    Nightpaw felt himself stiffen under his father's gaze. He turned away from it, and his eyes fell upon Cinderblossom's form. With the kits at her side, grey and black, she almost looked like their mother. The apprentice's heart thudded painfully as he realized she would never have her own.

    "Properly is what I, as the truth-teller, believe it to be," Nightpaw said coolly, turning back to his father. "If a life has been spared, it is because the examples of the past will it to be so."

    At his words, Lightkit began to mewl again, pawing at the air. Spiderthorn's gaze hardened but Nightpaw payed it no mind. He brushed past the two toms standing in the entrance without a single glance back.

    //

    That night, for the first time in many, Nightpaw woke to find himself not in the DarkClan camp but walking through the moors. He stared for a couple of moments at the swaying grasses and the stars above half-hidden by strings of grey clouds. Then, he began to run.

    The wind whipped around him, the tall grasses stinging his nose as he pushed past. For a brief moment, he glimpsed the same cluster of seven stars he had seen during his sleepless nights, but the thought of it was wiped from him head when he spotted a figure sitting atop the Speaking Rock.

    "Sootstar!" he called, gaining speed. He skidded to a halt beneath him.

    When the figure turned, however, Nightpaw found himself staring into a very different face.

    Their fur had appeared grey in the light of the stars; up close, he saw a dull gold, dusted with speckles of fawn and white. The eyes that looked back at him were a cold amber, not unlike a pair he knew all too well. He gasped when he saw that they, like his own, were lined with the thinnest line of white.

    "Nightpaw, welcome," the she-cat said, rising to her paws. A cold wind had begun to blow through the moors and the clouds slowly thickened above them.

    "H-Heatherfur." There was no doubt in Nightpaw's mind who this was.

    She purred. "Very good. You'll make a faithful truth-teller yet." The founder of DarkClan leaped from the rock, landing before him in the dust.

    "Where's Sootstar?" Nightpaw growled, haunches rising. The ground felt foreign beneath his claws. The world suddenly seemed much darker without the stars.

    "Sootstar is... Incapacitated at the moment," she replied, graceful figure moving to circle the apprentice. Nightpaw kept his eyes trained on her, shifting so he could face her as she continued to move.

    "You see, StarClan isn't supposed to exist," Heatherfur continued. "They were supposed to stop existing a couple of generations after my rule came to an end, when all of their followers had been eradicated. Yet, somehow, they continue to thrive." She fixed him with a pointed look.

    "They survive because they are still believed in," Nightpaw said, lifting his head slightly. The show of confidence did little to calm his quickly beating heart.

    "Oh, I know," she purred, brushing his defiantly raised jaw with her tail. "Despite my best efforts, there have always been cats like you."

    Nightpaw's shoulders tensed as he waited for the she-cat to spring. Instead, she continued to pace leisurely, completely at ease. The cold amber of her eyes had suddenly sparked with mirth; it was as if she was playing a game with him, a game of cat and mouse where he was the latter and had wandered too far from his burrow.

    "Perhaps you are wondering how I am here if I didn't believe in StarClan while I still lived," Heatherfur said, flicking an ear to him. He gave no answer, but she continued regardless.

    "When I died, I found myself in a barren landscape, the earth cracked beneath my paws. There was no water, no prey, no shelter. There was no sun, yet I could feel the sweat pouring from me, the heat making it impossible to move. Then, there were dust storms, so thick I could not see my own paws. Finally, the sky opened up and it rained for what felt like moons, and tunnels of clouds would come down from the sky, eating up everything in their path.

    "But I refused to let the elements take me. I walked across this barren land until I reached a dark forest. This dark forest never saw the stars; across the raging river that cut through it, the stars always shone. The prey was plentiful on the other side and I watched with hungry eyes as it multiplied, taunting me.

    "The first StarClan cat I glimpsed was my own littermate, Fawnheart. She watched me with pity from her side of the river, how thin I'd become from lack of food. I didn't need her pity; I just needed my revenge.

    "Slowly, over the course of the seasons, more of DarkClan's number joined me in this dark forest, the place where stars didn't shine, and they, too, watched the other shore with hungry eyes. Our numbers grew and grew until, a generation or two ago, they suddenly stopped. It was then that I knew StarClan's power over DarkClan had increased.

    "And then I found you. I've been watching you for quite some time now. Perhaps you've felt eyes on you, the eyes of my servants. I, like that old fool Sootstar, also guide the living."

    A chill ran through Nightpaw as he stared back at her. The amber depths seemed to swallow him up, drowning him in their cold light. He blinked at his reflection in them and, for the briefest moment, he saw a pale tortoiseshell reflected there.

    "Why are you here then, and not in the forest with no stars?" he asked.

    Heatherfur threw her head back in a triumphant yowl. "The forest of no stars was no place for us. We crossed the river with a bridge, building it from fallen branches and reeds. It did not last long under our weight, but enough of us made it across to start a battle.

    "StarClan, too weak and faded to hold us back for long, quickly succumbed."

    "They're gone?" Nightpaw couldn't believe his ears.

    "Not gone," she said, flicking an ear. "Their pelts still shine with stars, but not for long. I'm here to offer you a bargain."

    The tom's ears pricked. Seeing she had his full attention, Heatherfur leaped up onto the rock once more.

    "I will free your precious StarClan on only one condition: you turn yourself in as a traitor to Dawnstar."

    His limbs turned to stone. Was the freedom of StarClan, a Clan whose leaders had put him in danger and left him on his own, really worth his life? If he had never involved himself with them, he wouldn't be here right now facing the cat who started it all.

    But, without StarClan, he would have very little knowledge of the Old Life. He would not notice the sympathy in Cinderblossom, or the kindness in Wrenpaw, or the dignity in Sprucetail. If he had never known StarClan, would he be like Hailwatcher, constantly observing his Clanmates for signs of treason?

    "I see you need a little more persuasion," Heatherfur cut in, eyes narrowed. "I'm willing to barter. If you turn yourself in, I will not only let Sootstar and Finchwatcher go; I will also give you all of the answers you have been seeking."

    Nightpaw closed his eyes as the too familiar curiosity burned in his chest. In return for his silence, he would know everything. He would learn of the other groups of cats living far off and whether or not they believed in the same ancestors; he would know of the Old Life and the true reasons behind its destruction; most of all, he would finally find out who his mother was.

    He knew what he had to do.

    "I... I don't know if I can give you an answer right away," he said.

    "Understandable," Heatherfur replied. "I am a rather patient cat, however - I waited season cycles for the eclipse that brought my victory. You have until the end of newleaf, a whole season, to decide on your answer."

    All of a sudden, it felt like Nightpaw could breathe again. He had not expected the she-cat to be understanding in the slightest and her almost merciful actions towards him confused him. Aren't DarkClan cats supposed to kill traitors at first sight?

    "Make sure it's the right one!" she called after him as he left, running as fast as his paws could carry him. A cruel purr followed him, slowly growing into a cackle until his head pounded with the sound and he stopped, shaking it to free himself.

    The stars far above disappeared and the world went black.

// Credit for the media goes to allieb108!

Surprised at this sudden change of events? Perhaps maddened by Hailwatcher's character change and Spiderthorn's increased ambiguity? And now, Nightpaw really needs to get himself together. Greenleaf is quickly approaching...

Thanks for everyone's continued support! You're all awesome (: