Odd Eye

Prologue

Streamheart blinked drowsily, taking in her surroundings. She registered a glistening river, beautiful drooping willow trees, and the pale silver, almost white she-cat in front of her with stars glistening in her paws.

"Willowheart!" Streamheart purred, rubbing her head affectionately against her old mentor. "It's good to see you again. How is Starclan?"

Willowheart smiled at her, although her beautiful blue eyes were troubled. "It is well here, as it always is. But I come with more important news than just gossip, Streamheart."

"What is it?"

"Have you heard of the Great Battle?" Willowheart asked, her tone serious.

"Of course!" Streamheart exclaimed. "Every kit in the nursery has been told this tale. Many seasons ago, the cats of the Dark Forest banded together to try and defeat the living cats. Then, those living clans joined with the forces of Starclan and won the battle together! It is said that the legendary ThunderClan warrior, Firestar, died grappling with a Dark Forest warrior, Tigerstar."

Willowheart waved her tail dismissively. "Yes, that's all true. But you forget the most important part, the part that literally no cat remembers."

She gestured with her ears, and four cats stepped forward - three toms and a she-cat.

The first cat, a ginger tom with green eyes, dipped his head to Streamheart and spoke.

"Welcome to Starclan, young one. My name is Firestar, you have probably heard of me."

Streamheart gasped, and her eyes rounded with surprise. "Firestar?!"

"Indeed," he said, eyes glistening with amusement. "These are my fellow warriors, Heathernose, Iceheart and Rootspring. We share one thing in common. Can you guess?"

Streamheart looked between each of them, noting the different coloured pelts. "No," she admitted.

Firestar sighed. "That is to be expected."

He drew a claw across the river, creating images in the still water.

"You've heard of the Great Battle, Streamheart?"

"Yes, of course."

"And yet, you only hear a part of it."

Firestar swirled his claw in the water. Across the surface, an image flickered into view - that of a massive, golden-furred warrior standing over the bodies of his enemies, roaring at the sky and declaring his victory. Streamheart gazed at it.

"That's what you think of, isn't it?"

Streamheart wordlessly nodded.

Firestar's paw dipped inside the water once more, and a different image appeared. This one was of a brown tabby warrior crouching over the body of a silver spotted she-cat. His shoulders were hunched with grief.

"You knew of the obvious tragedies. The image you see in the water at the moment is of Dustpelt, a ThunderClan warrior many seasons ago, grieving for his lost mate Ferncloud."

Firestar slapped the water, and this time the image changed into a portrait of a beautiful tortoiseshell she-cat with bright amber eyes. Streamheart watched the ginger tom's eyes darken with sorrow.

"But you all forget the hidden ones."

One by one, the other Starclan warriors stepped forward and touched a claw to the water.

"Dropletwhisker," the warrior named Heathernose whispered, as the image of a grey tabby she-cat appeared on the surface.

"Conepelt," Iceheart murmured, as another portrait appeared.

"Bristlefrost," Rootspring's voice cracked as he traced the water.

"And Spottedleaf," Firestar's voice continued, gesturing at the tortoiseshell. "Each of these cats were lost in the Dark Forest, after either being killed there or being killed twice - the first time as a living cat and the second time as a Warrior of Starclan. The Clans today forget them; but their kin and their mates never will. They deserve a second chance, and a new place in Starclan. Which is why I come to you tonight with a prophecy."

He took a deep breath - then his forest-green eyes lit up like the moon and the voice that emerged was not his own.

"Where the golden land meets the blue sky, those who wrongly fell will rise again."

Streamheart blinked at him, her gaze clouded and confused. "I don't understand."

"You will." Willowheart pushed out from behind Firestar and licked her ear. "Don't worry, the answer's closer than you might think. At the half-moon meeting, we will talk to you again. Goodbye now, your sister needs you."

"My sister? Snowflower, is she okay–"

Streamheart was wrenched from her dream by a pain-filled yowl. Galepelt, a dark grey tom stood over her.

"It's Snowflower!" he cried. "Her kitting's started!"

The sleep instantly faded from Streamheart's brain. She leaped to her feet, and hurried over to where her sister lay writhing in her nest.

"Chervilpaw," she ordered. "Fetch a stick, and the kitting herbs in the far right of our store. Be quick."

The fawn-coloured she-cat nodded and hurried away. Streamheart ran her paw over her sister's belly, feeling it pulse underneath her pads.

"Don't worry, Snowflower, I've got you," she murmured, trying to ignore Galepelt's agitated pacing.

Chervilpaw hurried back with the herbs in half of her mouth and a stick in the other.

"Bite down on the stick," Streamheart ordered.

Snowflower complied, shattering one end into splinters. Her belly pulsed once more, and a wet bundle slid out.

Streamheart bent down and nipped at the sack.

"Start licking his fur," she told Chervilpaw, and the apprentice eagerly complied.

"One more!" Streamheart meowed. Another bundle slipped out. "That's all. Congratulations, sister! A tom and a she-kit."

"They're beautiful," Galepelt purred to Snowflower, rubbing his head against hers."

Streamheart bent her head to lick the newest arrival, a silver-white she-kit. Suddenly, the kit opened her eyes; far too quickly for any kit she's ever seen before. But that wasn't what struck the medicine cat at that moment. It was that one of the kit's eyes was ice blue, and the other a brilliant golden.