Heart of Gray

Grayheart fanfiction

I dunno I'm gonna change the ending

My name was Grayheart, and I loved my life.

I had love. There were three special cats in my life that I will never forget: my brother, Jaggedstrike, for example. He was tough on the outside, and he never spoke much, but deep down inside, he just wanted to keep everyone safe. He was a lover, not a fighter, and he was scared to be lonely. He was terrified at everything, and all would look to him whenever something went wrong to fix it. He was scared to mess up. He was scared to be jeered at. He only wanted everyone to be okay, but he always thought he couldn't do it right. I loved him, however, in the ways that nobody else could. I was his sister. I built him back up when he came crashing down. I loved him, and he loved me.

I loved my sister. Her name was Starlingpaw, and she was going to be leader someday, we joked. She loved to take charge, and she lived for the cheer of the Clan as she kept winning, winning, winning. She thought she could do anything. She thought she could be a hero someday, and I hoped she could. Her name could go down in history. Starlingpaw always brought me to life whenever pressure became too much--I don't even think I would be here, explaining this to you, without her. Her words were calm and soothing, her love always evident. Yes, I loved Starlingpaw, and Starlingpaw loved me. I was her sister, her littermate, her best friend.

The third cat that I loved should not have ever existed. Starlingkit's birth was forbidden by law of the Clans, and though nobody but a few ever knew that her parents were not Rushstone and Morningfur, she was always singled out for being different. Why were her eyes so...dull...at times? Why did she stare off into the distance as though she were dreaming? Take her over to the medicine den, they would say. She's no good to be a warrior. Starlingkit, Starlingpaw, Starlingflight...she would come to me. She would come to the medicine den and bury her snout in my gray tabby fur, trying her hardest not to let out wails of sadness and frustration. When she ached, I was there. When she was angry, I was there. When it all became too much for her, when she even considered meeting her darkness so soon at the lake's bottom, I was there. I let her know she was worth it. I held her close to my heart; I held my niece, the daughter of Jaggedstrike and a RiverClan cat, until the day she whispered her last soft words unto the gentle breeze.

The day my siblings and I became apprentices is one I will never lose to the darkness of forgotten memory. To hear ShadowClan chant, "Graypaw! Jaggedpaw! Starlingpaw!" with all the pride in the world is a wonderful thing. Even now, all these moons later, I can still feel the glow of love and excitement practically radiating from my littermates when my green eyes slide shut. Though we were soon whisked off with our mentors after the ceremony--Jaggedpaw to Wolfstripe, Starlingpaw to Blackwing, and me to the medicine cat, Ebonygaze--the chants and excitement of our Clanmates worked its way through my pelt into my heart. I loved ShadowClan, and my life was beautiful. My siblings and I would be everything we had ever wanted to be, would we not?

Though Ebonygaze would sometimes lose her temper with me--I was hearing StarClan. I know that I was. The snarling cat will poison us all with his claws of nature, unless the feathers may break his pride--my apprenticeship was going well. I knew that my siblings would be warriors any day now, and Jaggedpaw was starting to come out of his "work work work work" shell. He made friends, you see. Sunpaw. Ferretpaw. Rushpaw. Morningpaw. Even the seasoned deputy, Flashflame, seemed to enjoy his company and how he would sometimes be the best thing that could happen to a Clan. Starlingpaw was breaking records for fighting, and though her speed could never match a WindClan cat, she was the pride and joy of my family. She and Ferretpaw were locked in a constant battle for winning, and even Jaggedpaw would joke about how there would be kits in the nursery soon after they became warriors. Both of them denied it, however. Life in our Clan was wonderful.

Then everything broke.

It should have been the perfect morning: Ebonygaze was pleased with me, as I had interpreted an omen about good fortune coming after a brief setback correctly the day before. I was

Oh, yes. I remember the day Starlingkit was born: it is all so clear to me, now that I speak of it. How I wasn't supposed to know. How I found a RiverClan cat, crumpled to the ground like a broken piece of fresh-kill, trying to reach ShadowClan camp. How my brother was there, his voice soothing and calm. How Jaggedstrike began to scream and wail when Storksky's dark chest stopped rising and falling with breath. And how not one, not two, but five lives were lost that day, all of them codebreakers, four of them the kits of the fifth dying cat. My brother, my sweet, sweet brother, couldn't bring himself to get up off the cold, hard ground until I convinced him to. We named the little black kit Starlingkit, for the other that we truly loved. For the star who had fallen, who had never shone. We kept her heritage a secret, sending her to live with the newly born Lakekit and Flamekit in the curve of Morningfur's belly. We never breathed a word of the other half-Clan kits' existence ever again; and when Jaggedstrike's dying day came upon him like a dark, waiting shadow, he thanked me more than he already had. He came into my dreams, his eyes shining with love for his sister, for me. He buried his starry head in my fur and thanked me, over and over again, until his pelt began to fade in and out with my waking at dawn and he was forced to make the journey to home.

"Don't talk to me," the she-cat snarled with surprising ferocity. Her claws were unsheathed as she stepped closer to my larger form, the stars in her pelt growing in and out of focus. "You shouldn't be enjoying this. Don't you realize how...how it hurts, to see you like this?! I was broken! I was killed on the Thunderpath, days before my brother's ceremony! I could've had everything, Grayheart! I could've been leader! Could've been a hero! Could've gone out defending my Clan in a battle, or gone out of old age next to my best friend, Ferretwhisker! But StarClan lied to me, Grayheart. They told me I had potential. They told me I could be the best." She paused, waiting for it to sink in, her gray nose inches from my own. "BUT THEY KILLED ME! And, like they were just rubbing it in, they didn't even let me have a warrior name. Nobody takes me remotely seriously here! They think I'm just...just...just a throwaway cat, killed off to motivate another to fulfill a prophecy. When I say my name is Starlingpaw, some are hopeful. Then they see my eyes. Do you know why they do that, Grayheart? You know why?"

I didn't speak. I couldn't speak, merely staring at her dark gray form. All the StarClan cats who spoke to me were...different. They were kind. Their voices were soothing. They didn't shout at me with anger...and I hadn't seen my sister for so long, I was in shock.

She spat at my paws. "Because of that stupid kit. She's special, Grayheart, don't you realize?! Not the 'oh, everyone's special! Everyone has something good about them!' kind of ' special ' queens tell their gullible kits about. No, your niece is going to be something, you fox-heart. She's going to break that twisted freak of a rogue from the inside out, and she's not going to regret a second of it. But is that the point? NO! YOU REPLACED ME WITH AN IMPOSTOR! ONE WHO SHOULDN'T EVEN EXIST! I WAS WATCHING WHEN YOU DID THAT, GRAYHEART! YOU CARED FOR HER LIKE YOU CARED FOR ME! WHAT AM I TO YOU, NOW?! Nothing! That's what!"

I couldn't move, couldn't find reason. Head spinning, I recounted every little aspect of her speech--my niece. Not our nice. Her anger. Her growls. Her claws--and everything in my heart ached from the inside out. My meow was shaking as I replied to her. "Starlingpaw...please...that isn't what I was doing. I...I wanted your memory to live on...please, listen..."

"'My memory'? So I'm just a memory to you?! You never once thought about me in the past moon, Grayheart. Just..." Her voice grew darker. "HER."

"It's not like that, Starlingpaw! You know it isn't!" I cried, lifting one paw as if to reach out to her. "You died young. I understand that...but please, don't take it out on an apprentice who never did anything to you. I'm sorry that you feel this way. I never meant to hurt you."

Something I could not decipher flashed in her eyes. Perhaps it was gratitude. Perhaps it was anger. I still do not know, but she stepped a little closer to me and did something I didn't expect: she rested her head atop mine, pulling me in close to her, making me choke up. ''My sister. My sister. My sister...''

"Grayheart..." Her voice faltered. "Grayheart, when Jaggedstrike came, he didn't see me. I hid from him. He was with Storksky and his kits, so I don't think he noticed. That...that hurt." She paused. "I feel so useless. Nobody needs me here. I was too young..."

"You were too young," I murmured in agreement, resting my head against her starry chest, unable to believe this was happening.

"I tried to send you signs...they failed." She paused. "I wanted to be a hero. I didn't want to be just a memory to be recovered...I want to be with those I love. Jaggedstrike. Ferretwhisker. Even you, stupid."

I purred. "Gee, thanks."

"It's hard here. Enough to make a cat go crazy. Enough to want more. Enough to want..." She paused, staring at me. "To do things right."

"How, exactly?"

Her voice took a sharper edge to it. "I'm going to help this little Starlingpaw...this niece of mine..."