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heavensgaze · 29 days ago

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YOU DON'T KNOW THE HALF OF IT

A GardenClan Story - This story is a supplemental but fully canon addition to the story of Our Garden Under Heaven. It takes place directly after the events of Moon 8, from the perspective of Darkest Night as she ponders her past and GardenClan's future.

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“Run.” Darkest Night lifted her paw from the younger cat’s chest, leaving behind the gash she’d gifted him. “And make sure you tell your friends I’ll be watching.”

The little golden cat staggered to their paws, swaying slightly. She resisted the urge to lash out a massive paw one more time for emphasis. Her claws were capable of much worse damage than she’d dealt this time. Her victim should consider himself lucky–she needed to be sure that the defeated scrap before her made it back to their camp in one piece.

The smaller cat began to scramble backward, desperate to put distance between them. Darkest Night closed the gap with one step, putting her muzzle close to their trembling snout. Their blue eyes were wide, so huge and clear that she could see her own face reflected within them. Her teeth gleamed in the brutal midday sun.

“I know what you are. Where you’re from. And until Heaven takes pity upon you and takes you back, I will never stop hunting you.”

With her voice echoing, carried across the desert by the wind, Darkest Night stood still and watched the white tail tip bob across the sand until it disappeared over the horizon. A deep sense of satisfaction swept over her. Assured that her warning would stick in the young cat's mind, she turned back the way she had come.

The sun had not yet set by the time she arrived back at her den. The massive cave in the stoney ravine had been her home for many seasons now. The surrounding cats knew to keep their distance. She was not a friendly cat. The sound of voices felt like the buzzing of mosquitoes in her ears.

She cleared the slope in one leap, massive paws landing without so much as a sound on the rocks. The surface was cool on her pads, but she did not bother to relish the comfort. Physical pleasures were short lived, a blink of an eye when compared to a lifetime of torture at the paws of indifference. A prison would still be a prison, even as the sun shined and flowers bloomed. There was nothing the earth could do to soothe her.

Instead she lumbered deeper into the cave until the darkness swallowed her completely. It was here, beneath the world, that she let her muscles relax. The Eyes of Heaven could not find her here. The glimmering stars could not sit coldly above, taunting her with their silence.

Not so much as a shadow was able to be cast when she sat, lowering her frame down against the stone, and bringing her bloody forepaw to her lips to clean it. The iron tang sent memories flashing through her head so fast it made her feel almost dizzy. She closed her eyes, relishing the taste the same way one might savor the final scraps of a mouse. She was no stranger to the taste of blood, but the little cat tasted so much of him it threatened to turn her stomach nauseous. The memories danced in her gut, churning her insides until they were so deeply unsettled she could stave off her nostalgia no longer.

Her fur had been kit-soft once, and her paws hadn't felt so heavy. She'd played in the sand and the water and the leaves and the snow. He'd been beside her through all of it. Together they'd discovered the sound of birdsong, the taste of prey, and the way the stars seemed to watch over them like a thousand tiny eyes when the darkness came. They'd lived among cats, as cats were made to do.

But we were not cats.

The thought made her stomach settle, replacing the unsteady churning with a frozen lake of resentment. She opened her eyes. Her claws had left deep scars beneath her on the cave ground. Darkest Night sneered, showing her teeth to the blackness surrounding her. It was childish to dwell on what she had once been. But her divinity had been stolen from her. She had every right to her bitterness.

It was all she had left.

With a dismissive flick of her ears, she continued grooming until she could no longer taste the young cat's blood. When she was satisfied her paws had been washed clean of her deed, Darkest Night got to her paws with a luxurious stretch. Her muscles rippled beneath her pelt, strong but still sore from her walk. She snorted–Thousands of moons and this is how I age, eh?

It was her constant trekking back and forth from the Eden Tree that had left her body aching. She’d only come to observe, to see the changes to their camp and routine now that they’d added to their ranks. If she’d seen the round tortie, she might have even risked asking who he was. That one was more reasonable. He already feared her, and had answered her readily when she had questioned him upon their first meeting. If she had met them out on the sands and grassy plains, Darkest Night was sure they'd have told her about the fat tom with the strange eyes. The yellow one had crossed her path first this time. She was always in the lead when they walked together, tail held high with the arrogance and ignorance of her youth. Somewhere beneath her hatred of the bright little cat, she felt a twinge of pity.

Foolish kits, doomed to be the playthings of Heaven.

Just like me, she thought, gritting her teeth.

She wondered if she might have spoken to her first, before drawing blood. No. He wore his stubbornness like a halo around him, all the while trembling like a leaf in the breeze. That one would be mule-headed until the day he died.

Just like him.

Scaring her had been a fine alternative. Pain was an efficient teacher. There would be other opportunities to speak to the little one, and their new prophet as well. It was important that the two stars were introduced to the reality of the world they’d been sent to. There were no soft paws waiting for them here.

Darkest Night ran her long claws across the stone wall of the cave, stretching once more to rid herself of the creaking in her bones. Then she shook her pelt and laid down, not bothering herself with a meal. The ache of hunger had not troubled her for many seasons. It would not kill her to wait another night. It would not kill her to wait forever. That was always the problem.

Her green eyes closed, and she rested her chin against her paws to rest.

“Nightpaw, get up!”

She was roused by a tug on her ear, and the feeling of a body on top of her. Nightpaw? There was only one who had ever known her by that name. Tiny paws pummeled her mountainous shoulders before her attacker slid off of her. He hopped away the moment she stood, wisely out of reach of her claws.

The little golden tomcat ducked a half hearted swipe from her paw, and pranced around her in a circle.

“What do you want?” She spat. She sat down, but kept her claws unsheathed. “And why have you chosen to appear like this?” She peeled her lips back into a toothy sneer. “The soft kit fur of youth doesn't quite suit you anymore, Dawn. Not as you exist to me.”

He stopped prancing, coming to stand in front of her. “Is this better?”

Before she could blink, he'd aged. He was smaller than she was, but with a nobility to everything from the way he held his head to the arch in his spine that made him feel as large as a lion. Golden eyes stared directly into her, burning with the intensity of the sun, and the massive mane of fur around his neck hung like a cloak of brilliant snow before turning blood red across his throat. A few tiny splatters of blood struck the cave floor, echoing around the two of them.

This was how she remembered him. Radiant and bleeding.

“Still doesn't explain why I've dreamed you up,” she growled. “I thought my reward for extinguishing you was getting to live free of your preaching, and yet here you are. Alive and…” She glanced at the wound on his throat. “Not well, I suppose.”

“You cannot kill your memories, Night.”

“I remember you more broken than this in your final moments.” Heat rushed through her pelt and she leaned towards him, giving him a full view of her fangs. “Torn to shreds and begging.”

“That’s not my problem.” His deep voice was casual, almost breezy. A grin spread across his features. “Like we've said, I'm your dream, Night.”

She spit in frustration, wishing she hadn't remembered his stubbornness quite so clearly. He raised one white paw, licking it before drawing it over his ear.

“The Eden Tree blooms once more,” He mused. “It ought to bear fruit any day now.”

She didn't respond. How dare he treat this as nothing more than catching up between friends? After all he had done to her, after all that had been done to both of them! The sick, nostalgic feeling returned to her stomach.

“You must care. You tracked that young cat for ages just to startle him. Why didn't you just tell him what you know?”

“Would it have done any good?” She growled. “She's like you. Too bright to see the shadows she casts.”

“And the other? Is she like you?” His eyes narrowed with accusation, two shining suns seeing through her and making her pelt burn.

“Reasonable, you mean?” She couldn't hold back her frustration. “Of course, you'd watch them suffer for thousands of moons at the whims of Heaven before you'd step in. They'd be better off joining you. It'd spare them the trouble!”

He blinked slowly, his grin fading into a look of concern. “So you intend to snuff them out? Is that still the only mercy you know?”

“It's the only mercy Heaven allows us.” She flashed back. Her body blazed from the pads of her paws to the tip of her tail. She flashed out a paw, making sure this time to not miss.

It caught him on the side of his face, and her claws tore through his cheek easily. The blow was followed by an explosion of blood, splattering across her eyes and muzzle while he staggered backwards several pawsteps, reeling.

“Do you feel better?” He asked, glaring at her. Rage boiled in her belly. He had no right to look so betrayed. The blood from his cheek ran down his face and neck, joining the wound on his throat like two rivers converging into the ever-growing sea of red at his feet.

“Yes.” She spat back.

“Those paws built a clan once,” he said mournfully. “Was Heaven's sin against you really worth all of this?”

Her claws reached deep into the earth, and she allowed herself the memory. Back when the two of them snuggled together beneath the Eden tree, his head on her not-yet muscular shoulder while she nuzzled into the growing tufts of his mane. They'd played together then, tumbling over one another as their laughter and squeals rang out over the pool before the wind carried their joy across the dunes and into the desert. Their little slice of paradise, under the sun and stars, that would soon fill with the bodies of other cats. If she tried she could remember their smells, even their faces. For some, she could even recall their names. They'd been her friends, her companions, her family, and she and Dawn had brought them all together, just as Heaven had ordained them to.

For what? She'd asked the same question then, over and over again. Each prophet had given her a different answer, and not one had satisfied her. And, always at her side, Dawn would nod wisely in agreement, his confidence in their mission unshakable. She was the weaker of the two. She always had been. But here she stood now, in front of the spectre of the cat she'd loved as a brother, a friend, and more–for better or worse, only one of them was alive.

“Dawn.” She growled, rising to her paws. She loomed over him, swallowing him in her shadow. “You don't know half of what was done to me. I've spent a thousand moons in this wasteland. We watched generations of cats together, guided them in the name of that heartless spirit. Where are they now, Dawn? Your beloved prophets are nothing but food for the worms and maggots. They live below the earth, just as I do, but only they know any peace. It's the only real gift Heaven has ever given them, and you and I were granted no such pity! May you never know the abyss this existence has brought me. You died a martyr, Brightest Dawn. We are not all so lucky.”

By the time she finished her tirade, she was snarling through her teeth. Her breath was hot, and bubbles of saliva formed at her gums. He stared up at her blankly. She stared back, waiting for some indicator of fear to cloud his features, even though she knew it would never come. In all of their time together, she could remember no time he trembled.

Stubborn fool.

“I will not be tormented by my better half.” She spat. The heat in her body was cooling, freezing to jagged ice.

“Night,” his voice was low and hoarse. Perhaps the wound in his throat would finally shut him up. He continued on, and she forced her frustration down, lest she whirl on him once more to deliver another blow that would ultimately mean nothing. “You are angry because you know I'm right. Those two are not a threat to you. You could be their ally, if you wanted. You’ve stood in their pawsteps–you could help them. Your core cannot be so frozen that you do not see that.”

“Damn you, Brightest Dawn, and damn the eyes who sent us to this cursed world together. I will never work in the service of Heaven again.”

“Darkest Night–”

“No!” The cave shook with her screech. Her fur bristled wildly as more spit flew from her jaws. “You will speak no more!”

She jerked away from him before he could say more, and turned. With her back to him, facing the darkness of the cave, she forced her madness down. “Leave me, Dawn. I will not dream of you again.”

Darkest Night did not look over her shoulder to see his face. There was only so long she could wallow in their failure. Whatever she had become, she was no longer a star. She and Dawn had each burned out in their own way too long ago for it to matter. If she looked at him again, she knew she’d succumb to her madness and fury, and attack him, only to find no satisfaction in fighting her memory and to wake up on the cave floor, alone again.

She’d killed him once. There was nothing to be gained in reliving it.

She was not Heaven. She had no need to endlessly repeat the same cycle, to watch the same story play out over and over again.

Fine, she thought. Send your stars. Send the whole damn sky if you must. The image of the two of them, each terrified beneath her paws, brought a great comfort as she stalked deeper into the blackness of the cave, leaving her memory behind. She would find a way to ruin them.

Tomorrow when she awoke, she would go back to the SmokeClan camp. Evening Fire had been eager to listen to her knowledge of their territory the first time they’d met. The smoky black tom was perhaps the stupidest cat she’d ever met. His greed and pride were as valuable a weapon as his claws, and as great a weakness as his soft underbelly. He’d wanted their land of plenty to himself the moment she brought it up, and the dribbling sycophants he surrounded himself with would only stoke the flames of his hunger. There was a chance that cats’ own nature would do the job for her, and she could destroy the new Clan without having to lift so much as a single claw.

Then again, if she did need to bloody her own paws, she would. The two stars and their new prophet had plenty of weaknesses. The yellow one’s stubbornness, the tortie’s fear, and the black and white tom’s own doubts–for he surely must have some–could all be turned against them. A growl rumbled in her throat. She would not let them succeed.

If she could not have her revenge on Heaven itself, this would have to do. How lucky for her then, that she had plenty of time.

END.

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