Falling to Faith

[Pyro]

Story Title: Falling to Faith
Author: Pyro
Character(s): Harepaw & Firestorm
Genre: Future Fic
Rating: PG-13, just to be safe
Warnings: Contains violence, etc. I think it's sad..but that may only be because Harepaw's always been one of my favorites.
Author's Note: Once again I kept it mainly Harepaw because I was afraid of butchering Rowanheart or Firestorm. This is only like...the second or third time I've written a story in first person, so there might be a few grammatical errors that I don't realize are errors. If you'd point those out, that'd be great.

I hadn’t thought of it at the time, but Firepaw was everything I had always expected a FogClan cat to be. He was stubborn, preachy, hateful, and hopelessly devoted to those who had passed on. I think I might not have thought about it because it was what I had expected. But for some reason, this solid copy of the stereotype made me think. He made me think about things I normally didn’t think about, normally didn’t want to think about. And the more I thought about those certain things, the more I thought about him, being as he was the one who had made me think about them. And the more I thought about him the more I began to see him as not the stereotype, but as a name. A name that suited his flaming pelt as much as it did his flaming personality: Firepaw.

Firepaw was…is…a nor’easter. He is the violent flash of lightning, the pause before the thunder sounds, the very thunder as it rolls across the world in the very essence of loud, he is the wind that rips through me…he is the rain that washes over me, making my head tilt to the sky. And I didn’t like to think about that.

Aspenheart makes a point of telling apprentices, the first time they get in trouble, that we are responsible for our own actions. There is nothing a cat can do that we can’t do, and it comes down to whether or not we should do these things we can do. We could jump him and run away, in an attempt to escape whatever punishment he was planning. Of course we reply that we wouldn’t and he says that he knows we wouldn’t, but what matters more is that we shouldn’t. We wouldn’t because we shouldn’t. Being responsible for our own actions and living our own lives is what sets PineClan apart he says. And then he sits back and makes that calculating look with his eyes half-closed and burning and his whiskers a-twitch that everyone knows means he’s expecting you to do something, in the case of apprentices, usually to explain yourself. It’s a test. It is the time when you make your first impression with Aspenheart. When you’re an apprentice and you get the Look there are two roads you can go down. You can go down the one that is everyone’s default and blame others, or you can go down the other and take the blame yourself. The ones that choose the first road are off to a rocky start. The ones that choose the second are well on their way to earning Aspenheart’s respect. I’d think everyone would choose the second, but of course, not everyone does. Choosing the second road is hard. Choosing the first road is easy, because often times, we really do believe it isn’t our fault, and we don’t want to look deeper into the matter because subconsciously, we do know we have some blame to take.

I can’t help but think that Aspenheart’s test has more to it than just a chance to make a good impression. I think it might really be a way to show us exactly why PineClan is the strongest clan. The trademark of the other clans is their belief in StarClan. Their belief that StarClan is in their life. And it is that belief that allows them to blame their actions on StarClan. They say StarClan made them do it, they had a dream so an attack was justified, StarClan lead them down the path they took…The other clans don’t have to take responsibility because they have their starry scapegoats.

I never liked to think about StarClan. Being so concerned with the dead seems morbid to me. And I’d rather live my life by the now than by what might happen to me when I die any day. Death was just…something I didn’t need to think about, didn’t want to think about.

But Firepaw made me think. And I hated him for it.

Leafbare is hard. From what older cats say, it always is. I can’t say how much harsher this particular leaf bare was, but I do know that it was harsh. The days were deathly cold and the nights, if even possible, were colder. I don’t think we went one day, since it began, without the sharp pang of icy snow beneath our pads. Prey was scarce. No one admitted it though. Of course, no one ever does. But whereas usually it’s a pride thing, I think that time it was more or less common knowledge that no one wanted to dwell upon. So, given the harshness of leafbare, it is understandable that cats went after every glimpse of prey they could, whether they were on a hunting patrol or not. I am…not the best hunter. I never really was. I could track down the prey easy as if it were just walking up to me, but I never had the best timing. Speed yes, but that doesn’t really matter if you act too early or to late. I didn’t want anyone to see just how bad I was at hunting. Well, Shrikewhisker knew, but then, he was my mentor. It was expected that he knew things like that. And of course the other apprentices knew…So maybe it was more I didn’t want anyone to see just how useless I was this leafbare. But whatever the reason, I had taken to solo-hunts. Sometimes I brought back something, sometimes I didn’t. But that’s how it was with everybody. Well, maybe everyone else didn’t come back empty-pawed nearly as much as I did…but…I didn’t like to think about that.

It was near the end of leafbare when…it…happened. I scented a rabbit. It was a bit early for them yet, but you don’t question something like that when you and your clan are starving. It was close to the FogClan border…but again, I and my clan were starving. I took my time stalking it. I swear I saw a snail pass me I was moving so slow. But I didn’t want to start the chase until I was closer than close to the rabbit. I wanted to make sure I got it. I was just about close enough when one of my paws came down on a leaf. I don’t remember which one…but then again, that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I startled the rabbit. The time to chase it had came whether I was ready or not.

I’ve never ran so fast in my life. I doubt I ever will again. We were two blurs, one and yet different. We ran for the same reasons, to preserve our life. But one just had to get away while the other…the other had to kill. It didn’t take us long to reach the border. It didn’t take us long to cross it either. It didn’t take me long to kill it when I chose the moment to pounce.

It didn’t take me long to realize my mistake. It didn’t take long for a certain someone to realize that mistake as well.

I knew almost as soon as I saw him he wouldn’t let me take the rabbit back over the border. Not without a fight. We went through the preliminaries of course, though. You kinda have to. Things just aren’t the same unless you go through the whole ‘Leave the prey and get the hell out/No I won’t you son of a bitch.’ Firepaw is bigger than me. Well, most cats are. He’s also stronger. But again, most cats are. But I always had speed, and you’d be surprised how many bigger cats don’t. The fact remained though, that Firepaw only had to get in a couple of lucky shots to take me down. I’dve had to get several and he was much more experienced than I was. He’d been an apprentice for longer…He was on the verge of becoming a warrior. I’m not sure what made me think I could beat him. Maybe the fact that I didn’t have to beat him, I just had to stun him long enough to book it oughta there. Which is why I attacked first. Not sure who was more surprised, him or me. But that didn’t matter too much because he tossed me aside as easily as a mouse. We might have fought more, and he might have officially won, if we hadn’t started to banter. Well, I bantered. He just sorta yelled and hissed a bit.

I don’t know how the bantering and yelling got to talking about StarClan, but it did. And StarClan…I didn’t like to think about that.

We left each other, went separate ways. Did either of us realize we had wormed or way into each other’s minds? Not at the time. But I know that days afterward I was still thinking about Firepaw…and I had begun to think about StarClan. I couldn’t understand it. I hated Firepaw for what he did, making me think un-PineClanner thoughts. Making me stare at the twinkling jewels in the sky, every night before I went to sleep, as if they could see me too. Part of me stubbornly refused that they could…But another part of me, a part I didn’t know I had, wished, yearned, hoped with all its heart, that they could. And I couldn’t talk to anyone about the doubts I had because they’d tell me what I expected them to, as PineClanners. StarClan didn’t exist. And if I talked to them they’d ask the unavoidable question of why I was thinking about them, and then I’d have to tell them about Firepaw. And I couldn’t do that. I’d get in trouble. And so would he if one of my clanmates confronted him. And for some reason, I didn’t want him to get in trouble.

There was no one I could talk to…No one but one cat, whom I had promised not to talk to again. Thinking back on it, maybe we shouldn’t have made such a promise…and then made sure we would have to break it.

I thought I would hate him on sight. I thought that, when I saw him, I would be filled with rage over how he had thrust doubt into my mind, allowing it to claw at me until I thought of doing the unthinkable: willingly talk to a FogClan cat. In the moment I saw him, I knew I’d always be able to find him. His scent, so full of tension, mystery, oaks…It was so FogClan…and yet, at the same time, it was unique to him. In the moment I saw him…I felt peace. Curiosity…Rage was on my thoughts and at the same time, farther from them than I thought possible.
He greeted me as I thought I would greet him, with hostility…at first. But there is something about StarClan, that I didn’t understand at the time, which fills a cat with peace.

I asked him the same questions…I know I did. But the idea of StarClan was so foreign to me…It seemed like I would never understand it. He was patient. Blissfully patient with me. I think he wanted me to believe in StarClan as much as I was beginning to realize I wanted to. The conversation was so natural…so…

“Starclan loves you too, Harepaw, even though you're a Pineclanner. They love you, but They just can't...see you or...talk to you. They're blind to you just as you are blind to Them. And that's why loving Starclan and worshipping Them is so important-- it lets Them do Their job, by protecting you and guiding you. I don't know if that helps or...I just... without Them, we're blind. With Them, we see.”

I remember his words as clearly as though they were just spoken to me…I wanted desperately, in that moment, not to be blind to them. But how could I? How could I go back on everything I had been taught? Everything I had been brought up to believe. I wanted what the FogClan cats would call salvation, but I didn’t have a clue how to get it.

“How will I know…when I truly believe?”

“I don’t think it’s a thing you…come to know. I think you just do. Like, if you want to believe, you try to believe, and if you try to believe you can believe, and if you can believe than you will. And when you do, you just know.”

It was a nice thought to think that if I tried I could. But there was still that part of me that kept me from truly trying. It’s hard to describe what I believed then. I don’t know how it was possible to believe and not believe at the same time, but that’s how I felt. I was within a war within myself. One side fought for what I had always been in PineClan, the other side fought for Firepaw. Firepaw and the ability to see more than stars, more than dreams, more than cats living their lives to end in cold darkness.

The Gathering was over before I even knew it. I had half-listened enough to be disturbed by what had happened in FogClan…But I didn’t think at the time how much it would change my life. However…I did think about the hate in one particular cat’s eyes as he watched me leave. The raw, uncontained fury in them seemed endless, and it sent shivers down my spine. I knew who he was. There was only one cat who could have that much anger toward me, without ever even speaking a single word. It was Firepaw’s father. Rowanheart. And it certainly explained why Firepaw had been so nervous. Talking to me, that is. I turned my back on those hateful eyes, hoping to leave them behind, but it seemed to be a family trait, that annoying ability to worm their way into your head. My dreams were filled with terror, consumed by the cat who had given Firepaw his fiery pelt. There was a promise in those eyes…And I didn’t like to think about it.

Firepaw and I met again on the border. He had promised to teach me more about StarClan than he had had time to at the Gathering. I chuckled a little when I saw him. His chest was puffed out like a robin. He really couldn’t have been more proud of himself if he tried.

“Did ya’ eat ah frog ‘r something’, Firepaw?” I laughed.

He laughed too, but it was more like a scoff. “I’m Firestorm, now. A warrior.”

Firestorm. It suited him.

We talked for a while, not about StarClan as much as we had planned. We talked about other things too. He told me about his brother…how angry he was at him. I was happy to let him talk his anger out. His anger. that’s one thing that will always stand out clear in my mind. He was so full of anger…I think that’s why his pelt looked so much like fire. He had fire’s anger. Fire’s words. Fire’s fighting. And yet, he had a softer side. Just like fire he could destroy, yes, but like fire he could create new life. He certainly did in me. The more I talked with him, the more I stopped wanting to believe in StarClan…and the more I started truly believing.

We talked about other things too. Things we shouldn’t have. I asked him about soulmates…He was hesitant…but he said he believed in them.

“Firestorm…even if Ah don’t believe all complete-like in StarClan…can Ah believe in soulmates?”

“Of course, Harepaw. You can believe whatever you want to believe.”

I didn’t know we were being watched. I don’t think he did either. Neither of us suspected that Rowanheart knew.

So when I went hunting again by the FogClan border, I wasn‘t expecting anything different. Maybe I’d see Firepaw, maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe if I had taken my nightmares as a warning…but I had comforted myself with the knowledge that dreams were just dreams. I didn’t need to fear Rowanheart. There was no reason to. And yet, there was all the reason in the world to. But I didn’t like to think about that.

The attack came so quick I can hardly remember what happened…But there was no hope of defending myself. It was one thing to try and fight an apprentice on the verge of warriorhood…it was another thing entirely to fight a senior warrior who had an unshakable grudge against me. He dragged me back to camp as though I were no more than a kit in his jaws. But if I was a kit, maybe he would have seen fit to be merciful. Or not. I was a Pineclanner. He was a Fogclanner. He threw me into camp like the crowfood he and just about every cat there believed me to be. I raised my head, and kept it there, returning their hatred. My defiance angered them beyond belief, but they were too stunned that I would even consider eyeing them with the contempt they deserved to beat me down. Or maybe they didn’t because Rowanheart had already claimed that right.

I looked around for Firestorm, vaguely hearing the words that doomed me: “Because you refuse to see StarClan, you shall see nothing at all.” In that moment I found him, Firestorm. He was racing across the clearing, pleading for his father to stop. Stop what? I had thought to myself…before Rowanheart hit me like an avalanche in cat form. His claws raked me, over and over, as all his pent up rage washed over me like a pounding rain. I tried to defend myself, ducking, weaving, lashing out where I could…but I was an apprentice. Rowanheart was a warrior.

I felt pain, pain like I had never felt before. It became harder to move, harder to even breath. I felt sick to my stomach as it registered that the cats that ringed us in were cheering, calling for Rowanheart to make me bleed, to make me, a lowly pineclanner, pay for trying to infest the pure Firestorm with temptation and the snakey tendrils of sin.

At last Rowanheart delivered what would be the final blow for that day. His massive paw slammed against my face, his claws tearing across my eyes, bringing a searing, white hot pain as they did. I was thrown to the ground in a heap. I tried to crawl back to my paws but he only threw me back down again. I knew I had lost, but I kept struggling, which only made it worse. At last he dragged me painfully to some sort of hole, into which I was shoved unceremoniously. I could hear FogClan praising him like some kind hero above my raspy breaths…before I fell into a darkness deeper than the one he had given to me.

Night was a torment and cycle of waking up in sheer agony only to fall back into the numbing peace of sleep. Two cats came to me, I remember. One was Firestorm…his achingly lovely scent was a small comfort. The other…smelled similar…but different. I guessed it to be his brother. Finchpaw did what he could for me and I heard Firestorm, vaguely, angry as always, berating him to fix something that could not be fixed. I wanted to tell Firestorm to calm down. I wanted to tell him that it would all be fine. I wanted to tell him that I was fine…But…I didn’t know if it would all be fine. And I was not okay.

The next night…was full of more agony. Firestorm, his brother, and a few others helped me to the PineClan border. They had to drag me most of the way. I could barely stand…And…I couldn’t see. Crowpaw met us at the line…But the only cat whose presence mattered to me was Firestorm. We could never be together. What had come of us trying? Only pain and misery. I knew it was the right thing to leave him…It was the right thing for him if I were to just exit his life as though I had never been there…But selfishly, I clung to the very idea that we could make it happen.

“Y’know I…I think I like you.” The words tumble out, hoarse and raspy before I can stop them. But to my surprise, he confessed that he thinks he likes me to. How sad to think that after all we had been through we couldn’t even say that simple four-letter word. All the pain and suffering…and we still couldn’t take that step. We still couldn’t admit it to ourselves, much less each other. But maybe we felt excused from that because we both knew that…we both knew.

“So maybeh..we kinda like each otha’. What do we do?”

“Is there anything we can do?”

We both knew it wouldn’t work. There was nothing we could do. Being secret lovers wouldn’t work. Maybe in another world it would work…But we weren’t in that other world where it would. We were in the world where it couldn’t.

I wonder sometimes about if Gingerstar’s planning on giving me my elder name. If she is, there’s not much she can name me for. Hareflower’s too pretty for my scarred face. Hareclaw reminds me too much of some of the things I’ll never do again. Harestream and Harefoot are mockeries. As if a blind cat would be graceful or fast. I once hoped for Harewhisker or Harefang, because of my tracking or feistiness. Those were names to strike respect or fear into the hearts of those that heard them…But the best thing I can hope for now is plain old Harepelt, that is, if she doesn’t choose a name to remind me and others of my fate forever.

I’m nothing now. I don’t have my sight, I don’t have Firestorm…all I have is a nest in the elder’s den. A nest I didn’t even get to earn through life as a warrior. All I can hope for is the day I finally join StarClan. Maybe then I’ll see again… Maybe then I can be with Firestorm.

I like to think about that.