Silent Shadows: Book Two - The River of Secrets

XIV

Another day had past, moving around the world once more like it always did. Why couldn't it move a bit differently, once in a while?

Shimmerpaw had been with the Marthanorí for some time now. Or someone else who looked like her, Silentdawn couldn't exactly tell anymore. That relentless cat she'd known from NightClan must've been swept down some river, or something. Silentdawn didn't want to consider the other possibilities.

I don't get what's with that cat. Why's she suddenly more battered than either of us? She hasn't been killing anyone, she pondered. And why won't she recognize any of us? She can't even remember her own name. What happened to her?

Silentdawn dug her claws into the ground, suddenly frustrated. Where is Shimmerpaw? She's somewhere in this empty shell, I bet. She suddenly found herself overwhelmed by frustration. Why?  She didn't know what spring this feeling ran from.

This cat isn't that Shimmerpaw I knew anymore. She's a stranger. I don't get why I keep her around. Why don't I just...end her? 

Silentdawn suddenly stopped. What did I...

Damn it, I'm wrong. Everything I think is wrong.

"Hello." 

Anger once again possessed her when Shimmerpaw didn't respond. "You used to know me. Come on, look at me."

Shimmerpaw turned around and stared at her, with such a gaze that it seemed as though she knew what Silentdawn was thinking about earlier. "I knew you? Who are you?"

Silentdawn felt mad at her own emotions. Why was she frustrated, and not sorrowful? Trying to mask her anger with some other feeling, she decided to ask a question. "So, did you forget your name too?"

"My name? I...don't have one," she spoke. Shimmerpaw suddenly gazed at the ground for a moment, as if she were lost in thought. 

"I can...give you a new name," Silentdawn said, trying to make herself acknowledge that "Shimmerpaw" was probably lost deeper within the she-cat she was currently talking to than she'd initially thought. "I used to know you, we were...something, together. Back then, your name was Shimmerpaw."

The she-cat showed apparent shock to what was being told to her. Satisfied that she was listening to her, Silentdawn went on. "You're not exactly Shimmerpaw anymore. It's been a while. So you can be named something different. How about...uh, Shimmerthorn?"

"I'm surprised," Shimmerpaw spoke with a vacant expression. "What do you mean?"

"No, Shimmerthorn sounds awkward. How about...Shimmerpark. Would you like the name Shimmerspark?" she asked.

"That is a name," the she-cat muttered, turning her face away. "Well, okay."

"Okay?" Silentdawn said, before Shimmerspark stood up on her paws and slunk past her. 

-

I am the voice I was hearing in my mind. She- "Shimmerspark," found herself perplexed by the revelation as she sat alone in the cavern. No...I mean, the name I kept hearing was my name.

She'd been alone in the cavern for a while now. Alone, she'd forgotten that was a concept. After so long, she'd come to believe solitude was her reality, and in isolation, that was all of reality. It seems I was not always alone, it seems this reality wasn't simply mine. That's what that she-cat said.

"Hello? Uhm, newcomer?" she was surprised by the voice of a different she-cat. "You've been in this cave for an hour now, are you okay?"

She turned to face the molly. "What does 'okay' mean?" she asked.

The she-cat stared at her blankly for a moment, before smiling. "How about you come hunting with us, then maybe you'll feel it in your heart." 

Despite being unsure what she meant, she decided to do so and follow her. The she-cat lead her out of the cavern, and through the band's campsite, into a world of lush green. The white robe that nature once wore had been let free, and now the woods were in bloom, splashed with dots of yellow upon the green earth. The trees reached upwards toward a cerulean sky, and even though the air was cool, sunshine dappled the earth and grass in frenzied patterns.

The she-cat had lead her to a pack of hunters, looking towards her as though they had been awaiting her. A ginger tom gave her a greeting smile, much to her surprise. "I heard Ghrian wants to take you out and teach you hunting."

"Yep!" the she-cat who'd taken her out of the den chirped. "That's me, by the way. I'm..." she spoke her name.

Suddenly worried she wouldn't remember the name, she silently nodded. "What am I going to do?" 

"Let's look 'round," another molly crowed, before the pack set off into the deep woods and down a trail of moss-laden steps, crafted from stone. Around the steps, the once light and sparse forest disintegrated into a dense carpet of moss, grass, ferns, sorrel, and other lush plants. 

"Oh, isn't the Spring lovely?" a molly giggled, only for the movement of the group to suddenly stop. 

"Shh, you see that?" an elderly tom suddenly whispered in her ear, causing her to flinch. He pointed his tail toward a plump squirrel among the ferns. "Now, I'm going to tell you how to-"

In an instant, suddenly the prey was laying limp in her claws, and she sensed a painful sting in one of her forepaws.

"Oh-oh my goodness! I didn't think you were that good a hunter!" a molly exclaimed in amused surprise. She stared down at the prey she'd caught. "Looks like we aren't going to need to teach you after all, eh?"

Dissonant with the praise, she found herself perplexed and, suddenly, frustrated. Everything around her was happy. Why wasn't she happy? "Who are you, again?" she asked the she-cat.

"Oh dear, I told you my name," she said. She suddenly felt a strange feeling, something that felt familiar, yet totally new. Hate. She hated herself for how useless she was, never able to remember anything. However, the molly smiled. "Don't worry, dear. I'm Ghrian. What is your name? If you don't remember, it's okay."

"I...don't know," she spoke in shame. 

"Well, Dawn told us your name was Shimmerspark," Ghrian spoke softly. She found a pang of fear suddenly bloom in her heart, as if something unimaginable was creeping up on her. "Is that right?"

"I don't want to be called that," she replied. "It doesn't make me feel good."

"Well, we can give you a new name!" the elderly tom spoke. "What do you think?"

"I think we'll give you the name...Iskra," the other molly said. "Isn't that a pretty name?"

She came to realize this name didn't give her the same unexplained dread. "Yes, I do like it," she replied. There it was, a drop of happiness, seemingly significant before disappearing into a sea of ambivalence. 

"Iskra..." Ghrian smiled. "What a nice name. And we'll make sure you don't forget it."