The morning light painted the open moor with golden streaks as Brinepaw slowly woke up. Ghost was gone. The fields were empty except for a few pink and white butterflies that floated on the wind. Brinepaw felt strangely calm, despite everything that had happened in the day before. Sleeping with Ghost watching over him had been easy and comfortable. He'd felt safe, almost like Ghost were his protector in this world. And maybe he was.

The question of who exactly Ghost was didn't bother Brinepaw as much anymore. Something inside him told him that all would be revealed in time. He was beginning to see that. Things have a way of working out. The world isn't inherently bad. In fact, the world isn't inherently anything. It just is. It's the living things that determine its future.

When Brinepaw realized this, it made him feel much better because it seemed to him that nothing really mattered in the way he'd once thought it did. He couldn't change the land. He couldn't change his clanmates. But he could most definitely change himself. And that in and of itself was a profound amount of power to be allocated to a single cat.

Now here he was. The plains were all around, like a rolling sea of flaxen grass. He could feel the energy pulsating through his veins. His body was still scratched and beaten, but mentally he felt more able than ever. It was time to go.

Fleetwater couldn't keep him out forever. Brinepaw would return to camp and confront him. He smirked as he lay in the grass. It was like he'd been set free. Now he could take back all of the moons that Fleetwater had stolen from him. Now he could finally reveal the truth to his clan.

His father wasn't an honorable warrior. He wasn't kind or wise or any of the things that he pretended to be. TideClan needed to know. Maybe then there would be some justice.

Brinepaw got to his feet with a sudden burst of determination. He strode confidently away from the Saltwater Elm, imagining his arrival to camp. Everyone would be shocked to see him, most of all Fleetwater. And what would Covestorm say?

The thought of facing his mentor made Brinepaw stop in his tracks. He pictured Covestorm's resolute expression and his deep-set orange eyes. No. He couldn't tell Covestorm what had happened. It would destroy him.

Brinepaw paused there for a long time. Somehow he knew he wouldn't be moving again for a while, so he sat down. His heart was torn along two paths. He wanted so desperately to tell Covestorm the truth. But he also wanted to spare his mentor the pain. It was a complex feeling.

His contemplation was interrupted by the sound of pawsteps on the grass behind him. Brinepaw whirled around to see two cats standing under the Saltwater Elm. His fur stood on end as he stared at them, wide-eyed. He was surprised he hadn't scented them, but then again he had been so lost in thought.

He recognized them both. There was an apprentice with feathery gray fur that seemed to come alive in the breeze, rippling like a puddle of clear water. It was Plumpaw.

The other cat, Brinepaw could barely bring himself to look at. She was a large mottled tabby. Where her eyes should have been, there were two sunken hollows. The expression on her face was that of a cat who had suffered a tremendous deal. Her face was contorted and miserable. Brinepaw stood up slowly, completely and utterly stunned.

"Is he here?" asked Whitefin, pink nose in the air, "I-I think I can smell him."

"Yes," Plumpaw responded, "He's here."

Brinepaw was at a loss for words. There were a million things racing through his head at once. Finally, he spluttered, "What are you doing here?"

He expected Whitefin to look angry, but she only grew very sad. "We were looking for you, Brinepaw," she said, "Because I need your help."

Brinepaw gazed into the black pits that were her eye sockets, disgusted. He could feel his breath rising. She was otherwise quite beautiful. Her fur was silky and thick and her markings splattered her white coat in a wonderful and colorful arrangement. But those eyes of darkness... they communicated a kind of turmoil only she had experienced. Brinepaw could not look at her for long. Not while also knowing that he was the creator of that turmoil.

Whitefin gritted her teeth, "I need you, Brinepaw. I need you to fix what you've done to me. Please."

At her side, Plumpaw was nodding his head sadly.

Brinepaw shook his head. "I'm sorry for what happened, Whitefin. I really am. And if I could take it back, I would. But there's nothing I can do now."

Plumpaw jumped forward, "That's not true!" he cried, "I saw how you saved that warrior by the border stream! You pulled the water right out of his body."

He was talking about Covestorm. Brinepaw remembered how relieved he'd been when his mentor had survived. He flicked his tail at the WaveClan apprentice, "Yes," he said, "But this is very different."

"How?"

"Well, for one, her injury has nothing to do with water."

"You caused it using water."

Brinepaw was getting annoyed now. He felt his pelt begin to bristle. "True. But that doesn't mean I can just reverse the damage. It doesn't work like that."

Plumpaw snarled frustratedly, "Then how does it work?"

"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest."

The dove-gray apprentice let out a low growl, "Then isn't there some possibility... that you could be wrong?"

It was a challenge. Brinepaw looked Plumpaw in his hazel eyes. There was fury burning inside of those ginger irises. There was hatred, even. Brinepaw felt a little uneasy. He hadn't known Plumpaw for long, but in the time that he had known him he'd found him to be a rather compassionate cat. It was amazing how quickly things could change. It was even more amazing how much Brinepaw's relationships had changed since the full moon. He was no longer just an apprentice of TideClan. Now he was the cat with the ability to bend water.

Before Brinepaw could reply, Plumpaw continued, "You've hurt two of the cats I love most, Brinepaw. First my brother, Nightpaw. And now you've hurt my mentor. There has to be something you can do for her. You have to make this right."

Whitefin was shaking. Brinepaw wanted to looked away again but this time he couldn't.

"Please," the she-cat rasped, "Please just try. I don't want to live like this anymore."

Something struck like lightning through Brinepaw's soul. He'd felt that way before. "Okay," he agreed, "I'll try. But please don't get your hopes up. I don't think I could stand to disappoint you."

Whitefin nodded weakly as Brinepaw stepped forward. Plumpaw moved off to one side and watched closely. Brinepaw took a deep breath.

He watched her face intensely. She was still shaking. She was afraid of him. Brinepaw could understand why, but it made him unhappy all the same. He'd broken her. That much was clear. Her life hadn't been the same since the battle.

You're hurt, thought Brinepaw as he studied her.

She stiffened as he grew very near.

I am going to try and help you, Brinepaw promised silently.

He drew power from the surrounding landscape. He could feel the moon in the sky, though it wasn't visible. A cool wave of calm washed over him as he closed his eyes, preserving the image of Whitefin's grisly face in his mind. He called for his powers to come. Water saturated the air. He pulled it into two rotating spheres.

Brinepaw wasn't sure exactly what he was doing, but he brought the water to Whitefin's demolished eyes. He allowed it to rest there. She squirmed a little uncomfortably, for the water was very cold. But Brinepaw held it there for several minutes.

In his mind, he felt that he could see things and feel the movement of the water, but there was no physical representation of what was happening. Everything was dark, and yet he was fully aware. It was as if he were experiencing a different kind of sight. A deeper and more comprehensive understanding of the events that were transpiring. Everything that happened, he grasped with immense detail.

And then it was happening. The water began to glow a shimmery blue, then a soft lilac, then a deep purple. Brinepaw opened his eyes, astounded. He did his best to maintain his focus as the water danced with the colors of the ocean over Whitefin's face. The white-pelted warrior inhaled sharply, as if she could feel the process working.

The water swirled and scattered the light of the sun. Brinepaw focused harder. He could scarcely contain his excitement.

It's working! It's working!

And indeed it was. As the movement of the water slowed, something could be seen forming behind its transparent covering.

Ice blue eyes.

The water dropped in slow-motion onto the grass. Its colorful luminosity had faded.

When everything was over, Whitefin's cheeks were wet. And instead of the black hollows there were two beautiful, gleaming blue eyes. Plumpaw gasped.

Brinepaw felt dizzy. He swayed on his paws. Plumpaw rushed to his side and supported his weight. Together, the two apprentices looked up at Whitefin, awaiting her reaction.

She was dead silent. Brinepaw thought he could hear her heart pounding.

Plumpaw tensed against him.

At last, Whitefin spoke.

Her voice was very soft. Barely audible.

"I can see."

The joy on her face was evident, though it was mixed with a fair amount of confusion. She surveyed the plains, turning all around. She paused for a moment to admire the majesty of the Saltwater Elm. And when she turned around again to face the toms, she was beaming.

Brinepaw bounced up and down. "Really? Really?"

Whitefin bounced too. "Yes!"

Plumpaw's eyes were huge. "Great StarClan!"

Relief exploded in Brinepaw's chest. He had done it after all. He'd stolen her vision, but now he had brought it back. He gazed into those chilly blue depths and saw the purity of her happiness. She had forgiven him.

She brushed his cheek with hers. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"I can't believe it," Brinepaw breathed.

"Brinepaw," Whitefin meowed, "I was wrong about you. Adderstar was wrong about you. You aren't a monster. You don't want to hurt anyone. I'm sorry for attacking you. I was only doing what I'd been told, but that's no excuse. I should have questioned Adderstar's decision to attack your camp. And I promise, going forward, Plumpaw and I will advocate for you. We will put an end to this war."

Plumpaw murmured in agreement.

Brinepaw felt like he was floating. He smiled at them fondly. "Thank you," he mewed, "Thank you very much. Together, I'm sure we can bring about peace."

They shared a moment, exchanging breath in a tight space. For a second, Brinepaw felt they were part of the same clan, the same family. They were one underneath the realm of StarClan. After all, these cats were no different from him or his clanmates. They were all just warriors in a land of mysteries, trying to find their way.

With heavy hearts, they said goodbye. And as Brinepaw waited for Whitefin and Plumpaw to disappear into the distance, he recalled what it was he had to do. The issue of Fleetwater. The issue of Covestorm. It was time to tell his mentor everything he'd endured. It was the only way.

When the WaveClan cats were gone, Brinepaw headed out for camp. He tried to retain this feeling of bravery so that when at last he returned home, he would be able to follow through with his plan. It would be difficult. But nothing had ever not been difficult for Brinepaw. He was prepared.

As he went, he mulled over everything that had happened with the WaveClan visitors. He played the events over and over again in his head. And every time he got to the part with the water, something bothered him. He wasn't sure what it was until he remembered back to that night under the cliff.

Brinepaw remembered how broken he'd been, and how insistent he'd been on dying. But before he could sink away to StarClan, Ghost had appeared and brought forth the water.

"I'm not a figment of your imagination!"

"Then what are you? A StarClan warrior?"

"No. Not yet, anyway."

Maybe...

Could it be?

Brinepaw wanted to stop thinking about it now. But he couldn't. He'd gone too far.

Ghost had the power to control water. Ghost had the power to heal. And on that night, underneath the gigantic ocean moon, Ghost had saved his life.

Ghost had said he wasn't a StarClan warrior.

But he would become one.

Was he trapped in some stage between life and death?

Was he a tormented spirit with an unresolved purpose?

Perhaps so.

Perhaps he was just as his name suggested. A ghost.

And one ghost in particular.

The ghost of Brinepaw himself.