Instantly, they stared at him, confused.

"Remember what?" came Lionpool's mutter; his eyes were dark with confusion, and his head was bent to speak to Shortberry. The latter shook her head, bewildered, staring at Slatepaw.

"Remember what?" the words were whispered through the cats, carrying through the trees as Slatepaw stood there, staring at them in heartbroken dismay, rooted to the very ground. The whole rebellion... gone. They had forgotten.

Their hushed mutterings melted in and out of the sounds of the forest: the gentle rustlings of the trees, the twittering of distance birds, even the occasional scuffling of a mouse. A voice broke the peace.

"He's crazy!" Sunbelly's voice rang out as he stared at him, eyes wide. "He's mad! What are you at?" he spat, stalking forward until he was nose-to-nose with Slatepaw, who shrank back. "What are you talking about, you crazy apprentice? Is this a joke?"

"N-No!" choked out Slatepaw. "I... I..." He backed away, shaking his head slowly, eyes clouded as he replayed the devastating reaction. "You..." He couldn't believe it. He felt as though he was being crushed into the ground, lungs screaming for air and whole body wailing for help. How could they not remember?

Suddenly, a hazy image shimmered before his eyes. Between him and the former rebellion leader was a cat, forming slowly, slowly, starry eyes piercing deep into his. He opened his mouth, ready to question the bizarre event, when the starry form lifted a glimmering, long tail.

"Slatepaw," the cat gave a soft whisper, her voice almost melodious. "Slatepaw, it is not enough..." It was music to his ears, and he gazed at the shimmering form,  a wonderful pinpoint of light through the darkness, eyes wide with pure hope.

Slatepaw lifted his head as he heard Burnetflame's soft voice. "B-Burnetflame..." he choked out softly. His heart was splitting into two; he missed his former mentor so much... she had been the finest teacher he could have...

"It is not enough," she repeated again - and then, she was fading again. Her ginger pelt, vibrant even in death, began to melt away, shimmering hazily. She was leaving him again, abandoning him in this dark, cruel world.

"No!" Slatepaw whispered, reaching out, claws outstretched, paw flapping uselessly at her fading form. He felt mere air, nothing more, and despite everything he did in a vain attempt to reach for his former mentor, she was just fading, fading, eyes glimmering warmly down at him, so painfully familiar...

Then, at last, her form was dissolving, each starry particle winking away like a beacon of light evaporating. Only her eyes, filled with strength and determination and courage and yet kindness and gentleness too - everything Slatepaw knew her as, remained, glowing at him before finally shimmering away into the frigid air.

And yet, her message remained, hanging unspoken between Slatepaw and the rebellion.

He had not done enough.

He lifted his head from where it was drooping, staring at the leaves beneath his paws, and opened his jaws, wanting to speak again; however, at this point everyone was staring at him like he was crazy and before he could say anything they were turning away, shooting him angry looks and bounding away through the trees. Within minutes he was alone.

Finchpaw had stayed, though. Slatepaw slowly turned to face her. "B-Burnetflame..." he whispered. "She was here. She... spoke to me..."

At first, Finchpaw looked skeptical, and then sympathetic, as though she thought he'd hallucinated; he glared at her, and she lowered her head. "I'm not sure that's possible," she confessed in a mutter.

"It was," he spat. "She came and told me that... well, we hadn't done enough. We've got to do more..."

He closed his eyes, mind whirling. More? What more could he do? He'd created such an ingenious plan, and yet now it meant nothing... What else was there to do, if that had not worked?

But maybe... that was just the first step.

There was more to be done; he had completed the first task of the process, and he had to continue along his dark, shadowed path in order to bring the rebellion back. He could not stop, disappointed as he had expected a light, a single ray of sunshine; he could not turn back, deciding it was too hard. He had to continue, and get to the end.

But if Finchpaw didn't believe him... she had been with him all along on his quest so far. How could she not believe him now, at such a petty thing? Did she not think that Burnetflame could have come?

But, as he opened his eyes again, he gazed into her face and realized that she believed him. Acceptance filled her eyes; she slowly dipped her head. "If you say so, Slatepaw, I believe you," she said softly. "How could I not, after everything that's happened?"

Slatepaw dipped his head, relieved. "Thank you," he said, and he genuinely meant it. He lowered his head so she did not see the sorrow that flashed through his eyes and then murmured, "she gave me a message. This isn't enough; I've got to do more, she said. I don't know what, though... but I feel like this is only the start."

Finchpaw gazed at him, eyes wide. "What else do you need to do, though?" she protested. "This plan is huge. If it doesn't succeed, what else could?"

"I'm not sure..." muttered Slatepaw, unsheathing a claw and tracing in the dirt. That had been his exact thought... "But I think that was just the first step. There's more to do, and it all helps a little. Eventually, we'll get there..."

Finchpaw tilted her head, apparently contemplating his words. "I suppose so," she said slowly. "But do you know what we do next?"

Slatepaw held his breath; he'd been waiting for this. He was almost sure of what Burnetflame wanted, but he didn't know if he could do it.

But he had to.

For the rebellion.

"I think we have to kill Brightstar."

Written by Pebble c:

Edited by Solstice!