Icy Ground

[mysteryfaith]

{note: because I don't really have any 'proper' characters that have a plot, this is just a fiction story using this site's Clans.}

Prologue

Solid chips of ice flew to the frozen ground like tiny daggers, digging into the skin of every creature around. Around them, tiny snowflakes swirled on the heavy breeze, each drifting dangerously close to the cold knives that could easily spear them and drag them downwards on a pointed missile.

The mouth of a large cave, yawning over a hill covered by flecks of ice and snow, was flooded with shadows, each clinging to a corner and consuming every shard of light with its mysterious darkness. To a stranger, it was just a bitter night, blighted with leafbare frost. But how innocent a stranger could be...

"Your mission is clear." A deep, rasping voice echoed around the cave, its complex tones bouncing eerily off of the walls. In the shred of light left in the cave, reflected and recycled from all of the pure white ice shards, a faint silhouette could be made out.

In the deeper, more treachorous darkness behind the figure, a small but muscular body trotted out. "Yes, Scarletshard. I know." The small figure padded forward until it was in the blindingly bright light of the moon; its pelt was a deep russet colour, flecked with ginger stripes, perfectly complemented by icy blue eyes.

The large figure smirked, still hiding in the depths of the shadows. "But you are not loyal only to me, Lynxtalon. You still insist on being a part of that pathetic Clan." The tom sighed; it was almost too easy to persecute this little male 'warrior.' There was nothing fun about an easy catch.

The smaller tom's muscles bunched, but his fur stayed flat. "I only stay there so they do not suspect me, Scarletshard." He turned his piercing gaze on the older tom, trying secretly to find his figure in the darkness. "I am not loyal to them any longer."

Fury blazed in Scarletshard's veins; how dare this tom betray him. Before the younger tom could even detect a hint of anger, he flattened his fur again, and calmed his deep voice. "You are lying to me, Lynxtalon. I can taste it on the air that flows from your tongue."

Lynxtalon bowed his head slightly, ears flicking with sorrow. He knows. Gingerly sticking his paw into the snow outside the cave, he felt cold chills seeping through his fur. It was comforting, in a way - soothing compared to the raging heat that came from any meeting with his master.

"I have a mate there," the young tom meowed slowly, feeling as nervous as he did when he first admitted this to Scarletshard's other servants. He'd been warned that he would be hurt for simply saying this - it was their first rule, that you should never even think about being friends with the Clan cats.

Scarletshard faltered; this was a minor setback. In his mind, he saw this tom, sharing prey with a Clan cat. The vision of it made bile rise in his throat; a soldier of mine should not be sharing tongues with any Clan cat, let alone sharing family. "This development is disturbing," he meowed slowly, mulling over his final answer in his mind. Was it too harsh - even for his followers?

Lynxtalon flexed his claws anxiously, letting them dig into the frosty ground. "I know," he mewed, trying to hide the desperation in his voice, "but kits could be good for your - your soldiers. Fresh talent."

Scarletshard scoffed. "So there are kits involved, are there?" He watched with a smile as the young tom cringed; he had given away subconsciously the true situation of his courtship. "And you think they would be fresh talent? Lynxtalon, let me tell you..." He lowered his voice so it was just a rasping rumble. "If they are not the most talented kits in this forest, they'll be dead within moments."

[/size]

[mysteryfaith]

Chapter One

"Over here, Bearkit - and Enigmakit, stay close! Be quiet, Carnagekit, or we'll never get back to your new master."

Lynxtalon felt an extreme sadness creeping over his body and mind as he led his three tiny kits away from their home. EarthClan isn't pathetic or weak - Scarletshard should learn that. But he never would - nothing could heal the raw wounds his master had gained from the Clans, and no one could stop him from trying to avenge them.

"Bearkit!" the russet tom snapped, winding his tail around the tiny brown tom. "I've told you before - don't wander off. We have a long way to go."

A small ginger tom mewled a complaint. "Do we have to, Lynxtalon? Why can't Woodstream come with us?" He shot a longing look back at the slowly disappearing camp, where his mother would be soundly sleeping in the nursery, not yet aware that her kits were gone.

"Woodstream..." A lump caught in Lynxtalon's throat and he clenched his eyes shut, looking up to the stars hoping for some remorse. "Woodstream doesn't want you anymore. I'm taking you to someone who does." But Scarletshard doesn't want them - and he'll kill them, I know he will...

Enigmakit, a tiny brown tabby tom, looked up in fear. "Why doesn't Woodstream want us?" he wailed sorrowfully, pressing his tiny warm body against his father's. "Doesn't she like us anymore?"

"One day you'll see her again," Lynxtalon meowed - but it wasn't a promise. How could he tell them that they were likely to die by the claws of the cat he was leading them to. "You just have to wait and be very patient with me."

Bearkit shivered. "I hope it's not very long - I'm hungry!" Around his paws, thick ridges of fresh snow was falling. "Why can't we just go back to camp - we could get some fresh moss, and you could stay with us in the nursery!"

Carnagekit nodded vigorously. "Yeah - you never stay with us in the nursery. You always leave and say you have 'important things to do.' Then Woodstream always tells us that you're a busy cat, and that you're an important warrior with lots of jobs, but she's always sad when you leave."

A sharp pang of pain thumped in Lynxtalon's chest. He swallowed loudly; he'd missed so much as Scarletshard's soldier... when his kits had needed him, he hadn't been there. But there's no time to think about that now. We have to keep going.

***

Bearkit collapsed with exhaustion. "No more!" he wheezed, flopping on to the damp ground of his father's den. "No more walking..."

Lynxtalon nodded silently, and put Carnagekit and Enigmakit down, having carried them since leaving WaterClan territory. In the background, dawn was beginning to settle over the deep forest in which he'd made his temporary home. Soon enough, he'd move into the base camp of Scarletshard's true soldiers - he just had to prove himself first...

Enigmakit tried to stand, but his legs wobbled frantically until he toppled over next to his brother. Too tired to speak, he drifted into a deep slumber, soon joined by Carnagekit.

Lynxtalon's heart clenched; if they were tired now, then they'd be absolutely spent once Scarletshard was through with them. Please, StarClan, I wish it wasn't so. I wish they could just be normal kits with normal parents living in a normal place - like a Clan. He winced; his Clan days were over, but he still yearned for them desperately...

Light was seeping into the den, filling each crack and crevice. He hated it; he hated its hopefulness, the way every other cat could depend on it to at least bring a bright, shimmering emblem of purity into any land. He didn't deserve it - didn't deserve the light that shone over the world so beautifully -

"So these are the kits." The deep voice was all too familiar - in a flash, Lynxtalon turned to face Scarletshard, stood at the entrance blocking the too-bright light. All Lynxtalon could see was the older tom's silhouette, as always - he was only ever a shadow, a break in the light. It was like he was a ghost.

"I must admit, I'm disappointed." The tom's deep tone shook as it went around the den. "I was hoping for something a little... bigger."

"They're kits, Scarletshard," Lynxtalon bravely reminded him. "They aren't full-grown yet. But when they begin their training as soldiers, they'll soon get muscles as big as -"

"They won't begin training." Scarletshard's deep growl was enough to silence Lynxtalon - or any cat, for that matter - for many, many moons. "We don't have time for kittens in this army."

Lynxtalon tried to keep his hackles from rising, but failed miserably. "I've brought them all this way to be rejected? It doesn't work like that, Scarletshard. It's not supposed to be that way."

Anger flared as the older tom's fur rose. "How dare you tell me how it's supposed to be?" He stalked into the den, leaping over the tiny ditch Lynxtalon had made to trick any intruders. "Who is your master? Who saved you from the life of a Clan cat?"

Lynxtalon immediately knew he'd made a mistake - with the kits, with joining the army, with leaving his beloved WaterClan. He began to back away, pressing himself up against the far wall. "You are, Scarletshard," he whimpered quietly.

"That's correct." The larger tom snarled ferociously, then leapt away, turning into a silhouette again before Lynxtalon had shook away his fear enough to actually acknowledge what the tom looked like without his normal 'disguise'. Before leaving, the tom turned and meowed, "Courageous of you, but reckless. I'll see the kits tomorrow at dawn - and if they aren't ready for me, then this army isn't ready for them."

[/size]