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Bloomheart lay curled in the medicine den, Cloudberry, the Thunderclan medicine cat, leaning over him. He could barely feel her soft breath on his cheek, his mind occupied on the hot and cold battling for control of his body. He felt weak, barely with enough energy to shiver and shake.
“Take the catmint, Bloomheart. It’ll help.” Cloudberry instructed softly, nudging the bundle towards him for the second time.
“Mm…No, save it for someone else.” he muttered, shoving it away shakily, pulling his paw back into his chest right after he did it.
“Bloomheart, you’re not well. You need it.”
“I’m going to die either way. It doesn’t matter.”
Cloudberry didn’t answer, just looked away. He slumped back into his nest, half satisfied. No one else wanted to admit it, but he knew it. Cat’s didn’t get sick like this and survive. Maybe if they were far younger, but he had been an elder for moons now. He wasn’t coming out of this alive.
“Bloomheart…My job is to take care of cats and keep them comfortable, as best I can. I don’t want anyone in this clan going to Starclan in pain.” Cloudberry said eventually, curling her fluffy tail around his flank, trying to offer some comfort. Bloomheart snorted grumpily, pulling his hind leg in closer, away from her tail. He didn’t need her pity. He focused on keeping his breath going, pulling in air and letting it out slowly, wincing as it rattled in his skinny chest.
“Leave me alone. I just…I just…want to rest. I’m so…tired.” he panted, burying his face in the mossy nest.
“...I understand. You’ve had a long, good life. You’ll be able to rest soon.” Cloudberry assured him, a sigh in her voice, like she’d given up on trying to persuade him to find some value in what was happening. Or whatever she was trying to do. Bloomheart didn’t care. He’d never paid much attention to medicine cats. It’s not like they knew anything about how hard warrior life was. They just hid away in their dens, talking to cats that weren’t even among the miserable living anymore.
He scoffed softly, the scoff quickly turning into a hacking cough. He buckled in on himself, choking, his entire body shaking.
“If this is what you think a good life is, I’d hate to see what you consider a bad life.” he shot back, struggling to draw in air after his coughing fit.
Cloudberry, padding over to the opposite end of the den, tilted her head curiously.
“My entire family’s been riddled with curses, ever since we cast out that filthy, Riverclan loving traitor…No offence.”
“It’s alright. Riverclan’s not my home anymore anyway.”
“That filthy she-cat cursed my litter and killed my mate. She would have done much more if I hadn’t been so vigilant. But there’s no one to protect now. Daisytoe was lost the moment she was born and Flashnose won’t listen to a word I say. They’ll pay for it one day.”
“Why do you say that?”
“If they don’t listen, if they don’t stay vigilant, she’ll drag them down with her one day, once they die too.”
“Who will?”
“Who else! Mapleshade! My family’s curse!”
Bloomheart sat up, his lips bared in a hiss, before buckling back down, lashing his tail and coughing violently.
As he struggled to catch his breath, another thought snuck into his head, sending a shiver up his spine.
“What if-What if Mapleshade’s there? When I die? What if she drags me down with her? What am I supposed to do?” he breathed shakily, the heat under his skin starting to increase, practically burning him alive from the inside.
The earth under his paws felt like it was shifting, rolling around like the raging river on the edge of Thunderclan territory. His vision felt like it was blurring, the shadows at the edge of the den closing in around him. His breathing kept shortening, bit by bit, until he could barely pull in any air.
“Bloomheart, listen to me. Listen, Bloomheart. Everything’s OK. That’s not going to happen,” He felt Cloudberry rushing to stand next to him, curling her tail around him again, talking low and gentle, “You’re safe. You’ve always been safe.”
Bloomheart turned his head, too fast, the thoughts in his head spinning like a whirlwind. He went to say something, but he was caught off guard. Cloudberry was starting to not look like herself. It made him feel uneasy, and he narrowed his eyes, squinting and trying to understand what he was seeing. She looked like…his mother? He could have sworn her eyes weren’t blue before.
He opened his mouth to say something to her, anything at all, but he was cut off by a series of hacking coughs. His entire body shook and he felt bile starting to drip out of his mouth, burning his throat. His heart rate accelerated and he shook his head, trying to wipe away the bile. More kept coming and he hunched forward, tears burning in the corners of his eyes as he kept coughing. His throat constricted, the coughing making it harder and harder for him to pull in air. He kicked his back legs frantically, his movements becoming more frantic as he hacked and choked. He could faintly feel Cloudberry touching him and saying something, but he didn’t register it at all. It was like it was all trickling down to him from the end of a long tunnel.
Bloomheart tried to drag in a calming breath, trying to go back to normal and listen to what the medicine cat was saying to him, but all of his efforts were in vain. His breath was coming in short gasps, being thrown off course by his almost neverending coughing fits. Bile and spit dripped from his mouth, into his nest, and a shred of him, whatever was left of his usual self, worried about making such a mess. It was disgusting, he didn’t want to be acting so stupidly in front of anyone, let alone the clan’s medicine cat. Exhaustion and mild embarrassment mingling all through him alongside pain and discomfort, he slumped onto his side, wheezing feebly. As he looked around him frantically, trying to see where Cloudberry was, his vision started to blur and fade. The shakes wracking his body began to lessen, his limbs going slack and his body sinking back into the moss.
In almost no time, ice cold fear slipped over him. His whole body feeling much more stable, he lurched to his paws, stumbling back a little and whipping around almost hysterically.
But it was OK. His chest rose and fell with ease as he stood there. His whole body felt much stronger than it had lately, as strong as it had felt when he was still a young warrior. He reached up to wipe at his chin with one paw but it was dry.
Bloomheart looked back over at Cloudberry, confused, only to feel his paws glue themselves to the ground, his gaze instead landing on what looked like his own body, slumped and lifeless in the mossy nest beside her.
“Am I…Am I dead?” he stammered, shocked by the strength of his voice, not being twisted by coughs anymore.
There was no answer. Cloudberry didn’t move, didn’t even acknowledge that he’d spoken. It was like she hadn’t heard him at all.
“If I’m…If I’m dead…” he continued to mutter to himself, his mind wandering. A vice grip of terror closed around his chest and he stumbled back, almost tripping over his own paws.
He backed up, away from Cloudberry and what had once been him. He could almost feel everything closing in around him, his tail coming up to curl around his back legs fearfully.
Where was she?
She had to be here. He was dead now. She must have been waiting, like an evil vulture, crouching over his hacking body. She must have been waiting for her chance to pounce and drag him down into the Dark Forest with her.
He crouched in on himself, coat fluffed up, ears pricked, looking around him frantically. Where was the darkness? The neverending shadows closing around him like the jaws of an angry fox? Mapleshade, where was she? Where was the evil she-cat, creeping out of the recesses of the medicine den, claws unsheathed, teeth bared, prepared to ruin his afterlife? Where was the blood? The fear? The hate? The righteous fury from a vengeful cat?
“Wh-Where are you? I know you must be here! Where are you?!” Bloomheart yowled, sitting up a little, peering into the depths of the medicine den, trying to make out shapes in the shadows.
The only sound that reached his ears was the soft sound of wind breezing through Thunderclan’s camp. It was the early hours of the morning, barely any cats up and about yet. But there were no angry hisses, no violent curses from the dead.
“I know…I know you wanted me to help, when-when Oakstar threw you out. But…But you betrayed the clan! Yes, you were my apprentice but I’m loyal to my clan! I had kits on the way! I couldn’t put their lives at risk by siding with you! What if I was thrown out with you? My kits would have been raised without a father! My mate would have been alone! I would have lost everything! All because my apprentice was stupid enough to think we’d all believe her lies!” he snarled, his voice getting louder and louder as he spoke. Hate and anger, the kind he’d been expecting to befall him, burned and bubbled in his chest.
He hated her. She’d killed so many cats and he was sure that he’d be next in some way. She’d killed cats who’d angered her, who’d betrayed her, so why wouldn’t he be next? Or his mate? Or his kits? And he’d spent almost his whole life working hard to keep her away from them, to keep them so safe they’d never know any of the evil the Dark Forest held.
“Bloomheart?”
That was it. This was it. She was here. But he wouldn’t go easily. He wouldn’t go without a fight. He wouldn’t go at all. He would be going to Starclan, where he belonged. She wouldn’t drag him down with her. It wasn’t his fault. She wasn’t going to make it his fault.
He spun around, facing where the voice was coming from, teeth bared and claws unsheathed. Mapleshade may have haunted him his entire life but she wouldn’t anymore. Not when he could get away from her now.
“Bloomheart! What are you doing?”
The she-cat in front of him stumbled back, away from his flailing paws, lashing her tail agitatedly. Bloomheart stopped, looking up, confused by her offended tone.
But…
This she-cat’s pelt was a soft, creamy white. Mapleshade had cream patches, but she was mostly tortoiseshell. And this she-cat had soft, sparkling fur, like Silverpelt was nestled amongst it.
…And her eyes were blue.
“Mother?” he breathed, the fur along the back of his neck flattening slightly.
“Yes, Bloomheart. Now, what are you doing? You almost clawed my face off!” she said, narrowing her eyes with confusion.
“I…I-I thought you were Mapleshade. I thought she’d finally come for me.” he breathed, his gaze wandering again, still looking around for any signs of a threat.
“Mapleshade? Bloomheart, darling, Mapleshade isn’t here. She’s never been here. She hasn’t left the Dark Forest in moons. Most cats in Starclan’s hunting grounds think she’s sulking or something.” his mother mewed, looking more confused now, maybe even a little bit worried.
“She…She’s never been here? She’s been in the Dark Forest this whole time? She hasn’t been looking for me?”
“No? Why would she be looking for you?”
“Because! She thinks I betrayed her, for not sticking up for her when she and her kits were thrown out! She killed Ravenwing for that same thing! Frecklewish too! I saw-I saw what she did to Frecklewish!”
For a moment, the memory flashed through Bloomheart’s head, painfully clear, just like the memory had always been. He felt his stomach turn as Frecklewish’s pained shrieks filled his ears and the memory of her bloody, foaming jaws flashed behind his eyes.
“I heard she went and killed a Riverclan warrior for the same thing! She only stopped because an apprentice killed her, but she must have gone to the Dark Forest, a cat like that would never end up in Starclan! If she was vengeful enough to track down cats from the clans after she was cast out, she must be vengeful enough to track me down from beyond the grave!”
She couldn’t be in the Dark Forest. She couldn’t. It didn’t make sense if she was. If she was there, if she’d been there the whole time, then what was the point? Why did he do all this? Besides, she had to be coming after him. The world didn’t make sense if she wasn’t. He knew how his world was. It couldn’t not be like that!
“Bloomheart, darling, look at me.” his mother mewed softly, taking a gentle step towards him.
Like an obedient kit, he titled his head up, meeting the soft, blue gaze of his mother. He’d forgotten the exact shade of blue her eyes were. It had been so long since he’d seen her. Since he’d come to check up on her in the elders' den, during his own apprenticeship, only to find her lying too still, too quiet, too cold, in her nest.
“You are safe. You’ve always been safe. Mapleshade is not coming for you. She never has been. And now you can rest in Starclan’s hunting grounds. Safe. Happy.” she told him, her voice clipped but warm, straightforward, kind and straight to the point. Just like she’d always been. Just like he remembered her.
“But…But if she isn’t…then what…then what is there?” he breathed shakily, his brain still spinning, buzzing with desperation.
“What do you mean?”
“Mapleshade haunting me, Mapleshade haunting my family, protecting my family from her…That’s all there was. That’s the world. But if it isn’t…what is there?”
“There’s…this.” his mother answered eventually, turning her head and nodding towards the entrance of the medicine den.
Almost instantly, Daisytoe, Bloomheart’s daughter, came padding into the den, shoulders down, eyes on her paws, a ball of water soaked moss in her jaws. When she stepped inside, she lifted her gaze, dropping the moss when she noticed his still shape. Fast, faster than Bloomheart had been moving lately, she darted forward, letting out a strangled wail.
“When…When?!” Daisytoe wailed, dropping into the nest beside him, so close that their forelegs were brushing each other. That was the closest the two had ever been. Bloomheart had gone out of his way to avoid his daughter, both for her safety and his own. She was a curse from Mapleshade, and that meant that no matter what, her life would never end well, either for her or for her family.
“He joined Starclan a few minutes ago. I’m sorry Daisytoe. Once an elder gets sick like this, well…it’s only a matter of time really.” Cloudberry sighed, standing up and gently pressing a paw against Daisytoe’s side.
The grey and white she-cat just nodded, turning away from the medicine cat and touching her nose to his side. Tears bubbled up and then spilled over, her body shaking, curling in on itself, sobs wracking her much smaller form.
Bloomheart watched for a moment, so many thoughts, memories and feelings spinning through his head. That was his daughter. He was her father. And yet it had never really felt that way. She wasn’t a kit. She was a tool Mapleshade had sent to torment him, someway, somehow. She existed to hurt him one day, either through her own corruption or through his attachment to her, as his kit. He’d kept his distance, to keep himself safe, to keep everyone safe.
Only just now did he see her, really see her. Like any other cat going about their life. It was like Daisytoe was an individual all of a sudden. Things felt different, like he was looking at the world through a different lense.
Shakily, he took a step forward, reaching a paw out to Daisytoe.
“She won’t feel it, Bloomheart. That’s not how this stuff works.” his mother said and he pulled back, sitting back on his haunches.
“I…I don’t know what to do, Mother.”
“What?”
“I mean…most of my life after Mapleshade’s exile was based on keeping myself and my family safe from her. I was afraid every single day. I’m still afraid. As I talk to you now, all I can feel is her breathing down my neck, preparing to drag me down with her. I thought it was OK, because it was worth it. But now…it was all for nothing. Mapleshade never left the Dark Forest. We were never in any danger. I did all this…for nothing. I pushed my daughter away…for nothing. Daisytoe…I can’t help her. I can’t make up with her. I can’t fix things. I don’t…I don’t know what to do!”
His mother was silent for a long time after he said that. He sat there, watching her every movement with intense trepidation. He watched as her eyes roamed around the den, inspecting Cloudberry, resting on Daisytoe for a long time and eventually on Bloomheart’s body, lingering there, deep in thought.
What was she thinking? Did she even know what to do? Did anyone? The entire world didn’t feel right. Bloomheart felt exposed, uncomfortable, like everything was wrong. It was like he had no idea what to do now.
“I don’t think there’s anything you can do. It’s already been done now. You’re no longer amongst the living. You can’t do anything now.”
“But-”
“All you can do now is hope. Hope that Daisytoe has cats there for her and that she has room to recover on her own. Because Starclan knows being raised being told that you’re a curse from evil dead cats must have hurt her.” Her tone was even and quiet, but Bloomheart could tell she was angry, at least somewhat. He’d always been able to recognise that tone, mostly when he was young and that tone meant he’d be on moss cleaning duty that night.
“So…What now?” he mewed.
“Now, we move on. We go and join the stars. And you can choose whether or not you’ll keep an eye on your daughters as they grow. But I suggest that you do.” she shot back, nodding at Daisytoe.
He bowed his head at that, nodding remorsefully. He didn’t care if she was saying that; he was going to do that anyway. Maybe he could help them from the stars far better than he’d been able to help them while amongst the living.