Warriors: The Trail of Centuries

Prologue

     The moon cast a soft glow on an otherwise dark forest. A gentle breeze was the only thing breaking the silence of a small clearing. At one side, bushes brushed against one another; at the other, misshapen stones and rocks lay upon one another as if to mark a destination. The faint lapping of water could be heard – the wind was only just strong enough to sway the surface of a starlit pool. Generations of pawprints were pressed into the dirt leading up to the pool and the ground around the edge was packed down from frequent visits. Sitting at the pond were two cats: a white she-cat and a smaller brown tabby tom. They were peering around cautiously, as if they expected something to jump out at them at any moment. There was a snap of a twig, a few bushes rustling ever so slightly more, and multiple sets of eyes began to peer out at the small pond. 

     The bordering bushes quivered as a dark cat emerged; soon he was followed by a handful of others. The shadow of a cat led them to the shimmering pool and they all took a spot at the edge as if it were second nature to them. All of the strange cats had the appearance of stars in their fur – a soft shimmer that would easily be mistaken for droplets of water. It was a trait that the first two didn't share. The dark tomcat was the first to break the heavy silence. 

     "Greetings," he murmured to the cats they had joined. His voice, though smooth, carried a sense of urgency. The two felines dipped their heads in response – although it was a rather peaceful setting, there was a hint of tension in the air. "I'm sure you're already well aware, but I have a message for you." He fell silent after that, and the other two cats watched him expectantly. They glanced at each other anxiously; the smaller tom quivered in a mixture of excitement and fear. After a stiff moment's pause, all of the star-pelted cats spoke as one. Their voices chimed together in harmony, ringing around the clearing. 

     "There will be a great relief for the Clans, and you must help guide it to fruition. The temptation of bloodshed will torture the swift, but with the help of the blazing rush of the river at night all of the remaining Clans will share a golden victory." And as soon as the starry cats finished every cat – except for the dark tom – turned around to leave. He stared the remaining two cats down. The white she-cat stood up tall despite the fear in her gaze. Her darker companion had shrunken away though his eyes still glittered with excitement.

     He spoke once again, his previously soft voice now holding a hint of sadness. "You must be careful with whom you speak these words to. If the wrong cat finds out, they will give everything to steer fate sour." At that he, like the other starry-furred strangers, stood and began to pad softly out of the clearing.

     "Wait!" the white she-cat called desperately. "You're not even our ancestors . . . why are you telling us this? Who are you?"

     "Because—" The tomcat paused, but did not turn around. Sadness laced his voice more powerfully than ever before, and his tail drooped pathetically behind him. "This prophecy was not meant for my old Clan; they have strayed too far for us to contact them in good conscience. Even if we wanted to, our connection with them has been dark for a long time; believe me, we have tried to break through to them. We only know of their survival through the medicine cats and the others who reside here in StarClan. There is no telling what would happen if we left this in their paws." He paused for a second, his shoulders sagging a bit. "I'd give anything to be able to contact my kin once more." The last whisper was so soft, the two visitors had thought they imagined it. Before they could call out to him again, the vision swirled away. The clearing around them slowly faded into black nothingness.

     The pair of cats struggled to their paws alongside a group of cats from other Clans. A single look at their drowsy partners told them that they didn't share the vision. Whether they even had any visions of their own was doubtful. They exchanged a worried glance before rushing ahead of the others, ignoring their attempts to call them back. They kept a steady trot until they were out of sight. When they believed they were far enough away, they sped up to a sprint and pelted off through the forest and marshes. They raced around rotten logs and boggy puddles towards their camp. As soon as they returned to their Clan's home, they searched the clearing of the camp for their leader. The smaller tabby tom flicked his white-furred companion as they spotted the dark brown leader; they hurried to him without hesitation.