THE PAIN EVAPORATED, and suddenly, Ravenrunner was awake. That feeling of not being able to breathe vanished, and he took a gasping breath, sitting up and allowing for his gaze to dart around. The sounds of battle had long since died away, and now, all that surrounded him was the eerie silence.

     Everything came back to the young warrior in a wave, nearly knocking him off his paws. The battle with ThunderClan, that fox-hearted warrior with the golden eyes bearing down on him, the pain mixed with shock as he felt his body give out on him while he tried desperately to drag himself to safety, only to be trampled by one of his own.

     The world had gone dark after that, and there had been a moment where it felt as though all the air had been sucked from his lungs.

     Was that what dying felt like?

     Ravenrunner suddenly jerked forward and coughed, lifting a paw to touch his throat as red droplets dribbled to the ground, vanishing into nothing among the gray grass.

     His paw came back bloodied.

     His green eyes widened, and he turned in a circle, tail whipping back and forth. This wasn't StarClan, it wasn't anything like what the medicine cat had described to him as a kit. His wounds would have healed if that were the case. The only place where wounds would remain after death would be the Dark Forest.

     But . . . he hadn't done anything wrong!

     “Hello?!” He yowled into the silence, voice cracking desperately. “There has to be a mistake! I'm a loyal warrior of ShadowClan!”

     However, his voice only echoed back at him, breaking the eerie silence before settling. He pinned his ears back and began walking through the mist, which swirled around his paws ominously, like tendrils reaching out to drag him into the shadows. He shivered and pressed onward, the path ahead of him seeming to open up, urging him forward.

     A quiet mewl caused him to turn his head, and his eyes searched the mist for any sign of what might have made the noise. There was nothing. Nothing but the endless fog obscuring his normally-sharp eyesight.

     “Ravenrunner.”

     He froze. The sound of his name like icy claws pricking at his brain.

     “Ravenrunner, the battle isn't over.”

     And suddenly, the mist fell away, revealing a battlefield of faceless cats, cats whose pelts he didn't recognize. Flashes of brown, black, even gold were all he could see in the tangle of claws and fangs, until he focused upon a familiar white molly who stood at the center, her piercing golden eyes locked upon him.

     His blood boiled.

     Harefreckle.

     That wretched ThunderClan murderer.

     She stepped forward, her claws scraping the grass beneath her paws, shadowed by the night sky above. The rest of the battle fell away, until he could only focus on her, and her devilish eyes.

     A flash of lightning, a crash of thunder, and she was on the ground in the blink of an eye, stomach torn open and spilling blood onto the grass. She reached out, her paws sheathed now, her eyes pleading for help.

     She was the reason he was gone. She deserved to die — she needed to die.

     But . . . she was a warrior. A warrior, just like he was. Strong and proud, serving her Clan.

     Ravenrunner stepped forward, his shadowy pelt standing over her slumped figure. He could end it — he could end her and take revenge. But that was not the way of a warrior. Crouching beside her, he shoved his shoulder beneath her body and helped her to her paws, wrapping his long tail around her fluffy figure and slowly guiding her over the border, to where her medicine cat was waiting.

     She turned her golden eyes onto him, and though she looked tired, she dipped her head.

     Ravenrunner returned the gesture.

     When he lifted his head again, the battle had vanished from his sight, and the mist once again wound around his body like a cold embrace, whispering promises and threats he could not understand.

     An uneasy feeling built up in the pit of his stomach, but he glanced down, seeing starlight speckling at his paws — starlight that had not been there before.

     “Ravenrunner . . .”

     There it was again. That voice, so smooth and oily. It was similar to slime oozing through his fur. and that disturbed him.

     “Ravenrunner!”

     He snapped to reality, staring up into the eyes of his good friend Hawkwhisker, those amber eyes also reflecting exhaustion that Ravenrunner was now aware of coursing through his veins

     The black warrior was in his nest, back in the ShadowClan camp, shadows covering the entire den. It seemed to be night, so why was Hawkwhisker awake?

     “Get up! Come on!” The brown tabby hissed, prodding him with his claw. “There's trouble. SkyClan is attacking the border patrol!”

     Right . . . Feathersmoke had started up midnight patrols after SkyClan scent had been found on their side of the border.

     His mind was foggy, his eyes aching from being woken from his deep sleep, and when he tried to get up, he found that his body was sluggish, unwilling.

     “I'm too tired . . .” he found himself mumbling, burying his muzzle into his nest and already feeling sleep creeping at the edges of his vision.

     But his Clan needed him . . .

     Was he really too tired to help his Clanmates?

     Ravenrunner lifted his head, hazily gazing at his friend before he forced himself to his paws. His legs trembled, but he pushed through the physical discomfort of forcing himself awake and followed his friend out into the ShadowClan camp.

     But as he emerged from the den, the camp was not what greeted him.

     Hawkwhisker had vanished, and the mist was back, curling around his paws in an uncomfortable embrace.

     When he looked down at his feet, he saw a massive hare laying dead, neck twisted at an odd angle.

     “Ravenrunner!” Now the voice reminded him of claws against stone.

     He snapped his gaze up, seeing three cats rushing toward him. The mist had once again vanished, leaving him standing on a familiar hill, the rabbit still dead at his paws.

     “Great catch!” The young apprentice named Cinderpaw purred, his eyes glowing with admiration. “That can feed a whole den!”

     “Cinderpaw is right,” Toadstoolspring slid up beside the black warrior. “The apprentices will feast well tonight. Excellent job.”

      A note of pride built up in Ravenrunner's chest, and he lifted his muzzle slightly.

     “You might very well be the best hunter in this Clan,” his Clan leader, Gopherstar, meowed, dipping her head. “Though still young. I've hardly ever seen a tackle like that.”

     Now Ravenrunner was practically glowing at the praise, but he knew where the credit truly deserved to go. “I'm far from the best hunter in the Clan, Gopherstar.” He told her. “Cinderpaw helped me.”

     She didn't even bother glancing toward the apprentice. “The catch is your own. No need to humble yourself, mouse-brain.”

     “With all due respect, Cinderpaw's quick thinking allowed for me to get to the rabbit.” He flicked his tail. “The credit goes to him. I merely tackled it, and once he's bigger, it'll be him who does the tackling.”

     Gopherstar blinked, glancing down at the rabbit, then toward Cinderpaw. She said nothing, just turned away, a thoughtful gleam in her eyes, and once she vanished back into the trees, Ravenrunner felt the ground give away underneath his paws, and he was falling.

     “Well, Ravenrunner?” It was like tar in his mind, slowing his thoughts.

     When he opened his eyes, the tom found himself surrounded by shadows, shadows that spoke and murmured, whispering amongst themselves. He wasn't focused on them, however, or on the five cats who perched above his head, lingering among the branches of the Great Oak. No, his complete attention was on the one cat he was able to clearly make out, a sleek black molly who settled her indifferent gaze upon him.

     “Hollycrow, you cannot make such a demand!” The voice of Spottedstar of WindClan came from high above, though Ravenrunner could not see her. “That is a ThunderClan warrior!”

     Her gaze was sharp, cold, piercing through the younger tom like a claw through the heart. “And he is also my son, who was stolen from me. He deserves to be with his mother.” She had always been so calm, so collected. Unlike his father. “It's time to come home, Ravenkit.”

     “That's Ravenrunner, to you!” Foxbelly, one of his friends, snarled at the WindClanner. “He's one of ours. His home is right here!”

     “Only because his wretched father stole him.” Hollycrow growled. “Nightcreep was never meant to have our kits. They were meant to be mine.”

     Gopherstar's voice drifted down to him, so quiet, as if she were far away. “It's up to you, Ravenrunner.”

     It's up to you . . . it's your choice.

     “You swore to defend ShadowClan with your life!” One cat yowled, the voice faint, but familiar. Was that Hawkwhisker?

     “Blood means nothing, loyalty is everything!” Foxbelly growled in his ear. “What do your claws want to fight for?”

     Ravenrunner trembled, lifting his gaze to stare at his mother. The shadows around him fell into a hush, anticipating his response. His gaze chilled just as much as that of his supposed mother. “I am a ShadowClan warrior.” He told her. “I have no mother, only my father.”

     She yowled in outrage, but it died away along with the illusion, and he returned to the misty landscape, a feeling of defeated exhaustion filling his chest. The fog coiled around him now, like a serpent embracing him, but he was too shaken to react this time.

     “Ravenrunner?” Like a frog slipping down his throat.

     He sighed, opening his eyes to find himself staring once again at Foxbelly, who was barely able to contain her excitement. Her eyes were lit up with delight, and the Clan was cheering her name, Gopherstar standing tall on the Pinebranch.

     “Can you believe it?” She mewed, brushing up against him with a loud purr. “I'm deputy! I'm going to help lead ShadowClan!”

     What? He thought, numbly, blinking once as he realized what she had just said. But . . . they promised that to me.

     His throat closed up, his fur grew hot with something between humiliation and rage. They'd promised him that he would be deputy! He had trained two apprentices! He had led multiple patrols, helped win so many battles! Why was it her? Why . . . pick her over him?

     “Raven?” She poked him with a paw, and he tensed. “Is everything okay?”

     They were all staring at him.

     He trembled.

     Why can't you be happy for her? She's your best friend . . . your . . . your mate. She deserves this.

     He shook out his pelt, forcing the nausea down and cracking a smile. “I'm fine.” He whispered, pushing his muzzle into her neck. “Congratulations.”

     Her scent faded away, and the feeling of her fur against his face vanished, leaving him cold and exhausted in the misty landscape that curled around him threateningly. The trees felt like they were reaching out to grab him with their tendrils.

     “We need it, Ravenrunner.” Like a queen screaming as she labored.

     He was standing over a dead mouse.

     “Give it to us,” Dustyotter pleaded, her thin frame almost pathetic to look at. How was she even standing?

     Ravenrunner was suddenly aware of the hunger.

     “I'm hungry too,” he croaked. “I haven't eaten in days.”

     The elder stared at him in disbelief, glancing over her shoulder at Drizzlestream, who was half-awake in his nest. “Can you believe this?”

     “Such a selfish boy.” He mumbled, closing his eyes. “No regard for the warrior code.”

     “How can we continue to hunt for you if we have no strength?” Ravenrunner asked desperately, searching Dustyotter's cold gaze for any sign that she understood. But her eyes remained ice.

     “That is your problem to solve, warrior.” She hissed. “Elders and queens eat first.” Without warning, the elder moved swiftly, snapping her jaws and pulling the mouse from between his paws with shocking speed for a cat of her condition. “We need this more than you.”

     He choked out a plea and tried to scramble for the measly kill. “You ate this morning — I haven't had a bite of freshkill in days.”

     Her eyes did not seem to shift even a bit, showing no empathy for him. “Warriors suffer in silence.” Then, she turned and began to head back into the den.

     He let her go, his ribs feeling as though they were poking through his skin for all to see. Curling up where he had stood, he closed his eyes, wanting to sleep away the unbearable pangs of hunger.

     “Hey . . . Ravenrunner ~ ” A large tree branch cracking overhead.

     Ravenrunner stood before a pretty black-and-white she-cat who smelled of RiverClan, her tail raised, her eyes glimmering with interest.

     He shrank back, his pelt hot. “Oh, h-hey there, Heronstrike.”

     She walked around him, her eyes remaining locked with his. They were a dazzling blue. “So you do remember my name,” her voice purred next to his ear. “From the Gathering, right?”

     Ravenrunner exhaled slowly, nodding as her tail brushed up against his chin.

     “Good, wouldn't want a friend who doesn't even know my name, right?”

     Friend . . . why did she say it like that?

     Heronstrike sat down in front of him, curling her tail over her paws. “You look good.”

     “Er, thanks?” He tilted his head awkwardly. Not many told him that — mostly just Foxbelly.

     Foxbelly . . . who was back at camp, her belly swollen with his kits. He was going to be a father!

     Heronstrike was still staring at him. “Oh! Did you say something?”

     She rolled her eyes playfully. “Silly Raven, with your head in the clouds.” Her muzzle was suddenly a mouse-length away from his own. “I asked you if you wanted to meet up sometime . . . away from all of these cats.”

     The shadows were back, mingling around him, chattering in the distance. He could only focus on her.

     “I, uh,” how bad could one night be? Foxbelly wouldn't have to know . . .

     . . . but he would know. He would carry that with him forever, as he watched his kits grow, as he cuddled with Foxbelly. It was her he loved — her he wanted to grow old with.

     “I can't.” He whispered.

     Her gaze flashed. “Why not?”

     “Because I have someone waiting for me back home.”

     Heronstrike vanished before his eyes, taken like a gust of wind,

     “Ravenrunner.” It was back, like cockroaches crawling through his pelt.

     Stonetrickle stood before him, his bulky figure blocking the light from entering the den. They were alone, and Ravenrunner was curled up in his nest.

     “You have to help me kill her.”

     Kill . . . kill Gopherstar?

     He must have spoken aloud, because the warrior nodded once, lifting his muzzle. “Gopherstar is weak, and has led this Clan long enough. ThunderClan threatens our safety. We need a leader who can take charge and fight back!”

     “And that leader . . . is you?” Ravenrunner asked, pinning his ears back in alarm. “What about Feathersmoke?”

     “Feathersmoke is mine.” Stonetrickle meowed. “He's so old now, he'll be easy to take down. But Gopherstar is already suspicious of me. She won't let me be alone with her.”

     “No! She's our Clan leader!” He stood up, lashing his tail. “StarClan chose her.”

     The big gray tomcat stared at him impassively. “StarClan chose wrong.”

     “They didn't. Gopherstar is a fair and just leader, and she will not allow for this to happen.”

     “She can't stop me.”

     Ravenrunner inhaled. “But I can.”

     His paws were stained red, and he was drowning in it.

     There was no mist this time, but the shadows he fell through embraced him warmly enough that he didn't fight back.

     “Please, Ravenrunner!” The voice again, reminiscent of thunder striking the ground.

     He stood in shock, staring at ShadowClan's medicine cat, Quailwing. Her eyes were wide, her paws stained red, not with blood, but with the juice of deathberries.

     Deathberries she had stuffed into the prey of ShadowClan.

     “You have to understand!” She stepped closer. “There is something corrupted in our ranks. One of our warriors is a traitor!”

     “So you poisoned all of the prey?” He snarled. “The entire Clan is in danger now!”

     “I had no choice!”

     “And now I have no choice but to alert the Clan that the entire supply of food is deadly!” Ravenrunner bared his teeth.

     Quailwing paused, staring at him with an expression of desperation. “If you do this, the traitor walks away without punishment.”

     “That's a risk I'm willing to take.” He replied coldly. “If I let this happen, then the entirety of ShadowClan suffers.” The young warrior said nothing else, shoving past her to exit the medicine cat den.

     He walked back into the mist. Now it tickled his muzzle, like feathers falling from a startled sparrow.

     “Help me, Ravenrunner!” As if bones were snapping between jaws.

     Ravenrunner found himself standing in a small clearing, a river gurgling before him, swollen to twice its size, waves crashing against rocks hard enough to break a cat's bones.

     “Help!” The shriek was more defined now, and as he approached the edge, he saw a flash of ginger. Small and helpless against the waves, it was a kit — clinging to one of the rocks that jutted out from the raging river. His blood turned to ice at the sight of her, and he wasted no time, lunging onto a flat rock to pluck her from the dangerous predicament, bringing her back to the shoreline where he'd spotted her.

     “It's okay,” he soothed, curling around her and licking her fur backward to warm her up. “You're alright now. Everything is okay.”

     A twig snapped, and Ravenrunner perked his ears up, body tensing in alarm, but a squirrel simply dashed from the trees, sprinting across the clearing and along the river.

     He turned back, and the kitten was no longer there.

     No! He turned in a circle, searching the grass for the little one, but she had vanished. “Where are you?!”

     His cry was one of panic, and he didn't even notice the setting fade away again, not until he was aware of a faint glowing in the corner of his eye.

     A bright starlit cat stood there, white with ginger patches, flecked with radiant light that seemed to reflect the moon.

     Ravenrunner was frozen in shock. It was that same kit — only grown now. And she stared down at him with such gentleness.

     The nameless warrior bent her head and touched her nose to his, and suddenly, the exhaustion melted away, and so did the pain of his wounds. His paws, only flecked with starlight before, now seemed to glow in respect to the moon, and when he opened his eyes, there was only peace.

     “Your trials are completed, Ravenrunner. Welcome to StarClan.”