Ashpaw lashed her tail and frowned at Nutpelt. "But I don't understand why we can't go!" She cried, Charpaw at her side.

The warrior gave an annoyed huff, standing just at the entrance to the camp, and, the only way out. "You heard what I said. And I'm not allowed to take part, either. We can't disturb the trial with our connections to the runners. This will happen for you in only a few moons, so be patient."

Charpaw made a face. "What "connections" would we have to worry about? This trial is to find the weak, surely a loyal Needleclan would ignore relationships, right?"

Nutpelt sighed and settled down, tail curling around his paws. "I wish to be out there just the same as you, but this is the way it has always been. Maplestar keeps our ancient's memories alive, and you should be grateful. We cannot tarnish the will of the ancients by doing whatever we wish, no matter how we long for it."

"He's right," said a small voice.

Ashpaw whipped her head around to see Owlpaw, yellow eyes rimmed in black, giving him a faintly haunting look. "Everything we do is to follow after the will of the ancients. We cannot allow ourselves to forget the blood they let loose for us, so we must prove worthy of their sacrifice with our own scars.

Charpaw scoffed and muttered in her sister's ear, "says the weakling medicine cat."

Ashpaw nodded absently, but her focus was on Doepaw's mentor, who was agreeing fervently with Owlpaw. "Yes, we must earn our scars, and give thanks to the ancients for allowing us healers, that we might have many cycles before we join them in the mountain."

Ashpaw pricked her ears, always eager for stories. "Tell us about the mountain, Nutpelt!"

He chuckled. "You're much too old to be a kit, and don't you agree that I am not nearly old enough to be an elder?" He stared out into the forest outside of the camp, where the trial was surely underway. "Ah, but we have time to spare. No harm can come of a little story."

He nestled down, tucking his paws under himself, and Ashpaw beckoned over Patchpaw before eagerly assuming the same position herself. Charpaw rolled her eyes, but settled down next to her sister.

Nutpelt's voice carried a solemn tone when he began to speak, eyes cast to the sky.

Long long ago, before paws ever touched this earth, the ancients lived in the stars and snow, living in the skies above. But they were restless there, looking down on this open, new expanse. So some of them fled into the snow, falling down and down to touch the highest peaks of the mountains. This is when they came to life.

But those jagged peaks were no place for life, no place for the ancients, newly on this land. So the stars guided them, snowfall leading the way off the bitter mountain into the valley below, where life was plentiful and rich.

The valley was a place of peace, but beyond the touch of the stars, it could not last for long. Dissent formed among those below, our Ancients, and they fractured, splintering like ice. Two groups stayed close to each other, choosing companionship over independence.

But one group stretched across the open lands, their paws digging into the earth, scratching an existence out of this unforgiving peace.

Ashpaw shivered, and for a moment, the magic of the story flickered, and Nutpelt's voice no longer carried its entrancing tones. When she blinked, the spell was uncast, and, heartwrenchingly, she no longer felt the touch of snow across her pelt.

Nutpelt, unaware of disillusionment, spoke onward. "Our paws now tread in this place, in the land of the ancients, and we follow as we were taught, to live in strength." His gaze shifted from the sky to Owlpaw, who sat only paces away, equally enthralled by the tale, despite having been taught it by his own mentor. "And on every Lost Moon, when the stars quench that light and shine brightest, our medicine cats make the journey to commune at the Starstuck pool, to speak with the Ancients."

Ashpaw sucked in a quick breath, realization bright as the sun. "Oh! You mean that little patch of water in the mountains?"

Owlpaw swiveled his head, much akin to his namesake, staring at her with those wide eyes. "The Starstruck Pool? You mean you've been there?" He was pulling close to her, staring, staring at her with those unwavering eyes, and a breath of fire flickered in them, embers and ash and burning.

Nutpelt's ears were pinned back, staring at the grey apprentice. "That place is sacred to the Medicine Cats and the Ancients. What were you doing there?"

Ashpaw flinched from the accusation in his voice. "I didn't know any better, so why are you angry at me? I was alone in that openness, just like the ancients, but I had no stars to back me!"

His frown deepened, but it flickered away. "Whatever the case may be, you have still broken the wills of the Ancients. I will make the leadership aware of this transgression."

Owlpaw was still staring at Ashpaw, making her pelt crawl with the concentration of his focus. "No need," he said clearly, voice low. "I'll bring it to Yarrowtuft myself, you needn't concern yourself with this."

Nutpelt glowered at the back of Owlpaw, but he stepped backwards and mumbled a slight apology. Charpaw muttered something under her breath, and Ashpaw flinched at the words.

An uneasy silence started to choke at the grey apprentice as she waited, waited for anyone so say something, to move, to break from this hostility and move onto the next interaction.

The uncomfortableness grew, until Ashpaw could hardly breathe, waiting for some little movement.

Patchpaw sneezed. Owlpaw startled at the sound, flinching away from Ashpaw. She took advantage of the sudden break to the tension and bolted away, leaving the huddle of cats and sprinted desperately for the apprentice den.

"They've returned!"

Ashpaw tripped over her paws in an effort to turn, to glimpse the entrance once more, but instead she fell, face grinding into the dirt, its bitter taste filling her mouth as she tumbled over, eyes squeezed shut against the offending dust and dirt.

More voices, louder, louder with each word, blurring, blending. She pushed herself back up go her paws, eyes blinking and squinting, dirt stinging her sight, blinding her as she turned and traced the voices back to the speakers.

Ashpaw collided into another cat, who spat something at her, making her flinch, as she stumbled along, eyes still spasming in pain as she strained to open them, to see if they had made it, to see Doepaw and Stagpaw, to greet them with relief.

But she did not see them, no. Instead, when her eyes flickered open once more, she saw Charpaw, staring at her with those yellow eyes, a look of disdain on her face.

Ashpaw stared back, anger flaming inside her as they stood, locked in this gaze, this moment of will, of strength, the clan writhing around them, but these two apprentices trapped in the other's eyes.

Ashpaw blinked first, the anger building at being such a coward. But she had to find her friend—no, her friends. Stagpaw had earned such a title when he came to her in her banishment, despite interacting with her very little since her return. But he had promised to be there for her, so Ashpaw wanted to, needed to be there for him now, in this life changing instant.

She was hit on the said again, spinning her, leaving her disoriented. But when she looked up this time, the yellow eyes that locked with hers were paired with a smile, etched on an oh so familiar face.

They had survived. They had both survived. Ashpaw was reminding herself of this, again and again, each repetition another moment to breathe, to look at the two of them, huddled before Maplestar.

Doepaw was leaning heavily on her brother, flanks heaving as she stared up at the leader, and Ashpaw felt pain tingle in her own pelt just upon seeing the blood smeared upon her tawny coat.

Stagpaw sat beside her, firmly, confidence and just a hint of arrogance exuding from him, but perhaps he could afford it, just this once, underneath the scathing glare of Maplestar. His own pelt was roughed up, surely, but only in a way that made him appear more daring, falling under the perfection of what a Needleclan warrior should appear to be.

Yes, they had earned their scars, had proven themselves to be strong, had erased any rumors of weakness or inability. And Ashpaw stood, knowing that her own time was merely a moon away, and though she had been overjoyed for the chance that day in the medicine den, seeing them now, these survivors of the trial, her friends who had proven and overcame, claws of apprehension dug inside of her, more painful still than the gnawing of hunger that had chased her those lonely nights in the Open Lands.

Ashpaw shook herself heavily, as if the action could rid herself of these darkening thoughts as easily as pine needles from her coat. She would survive. She had to survive.

"Needleclan." The solemn words of Maplestar, and all noise in the camp evaporated, as if all sounds had been caught inside their throats, stilled by his authority.

"We have witnessed and seen these fine apprentices as they withstood the trial of their lives, the realization of their training these many moons. See them now, oh Ancients, look down on them, and these scars they have earned for your sake."

"Doepaw." The tawny apprentice jolted beside Stagpaw, a dazed look in her eyes. "The Ancients have seen you through this trial, have blessed you with their light, and the will to live and survive beyond this sky. You have persevered through the fullest and worst that this world below can set before you, and have thus earned your scars. You will now be known as Doestep, in that the Ancients guided your paws to safety, that you might return to battle in glorious victory."

Doepaw, no, Doestep, nodded weakly, then leaned into Stagpaw's fur once more, going limp. He shifted to support her with his large frame, murmuring something into ear, causing it to flick.

"Stagpaw." His attention flicked to the leader above them, but only for a moment. "The Ancients have seen you through this trial, and your insistence and pursuit in battle, and have blessed you with their light, and the strength to live and thrive beyond this sky. You have conquered through the fullest and worst that this world below can set before you, and have thus earned your scars. You will now be known as Stagdust, that the clouds of glory and battle might follow you the rest of your life."

Stagdust gazed evenly at Maplestar, then nodded, slowly, yellow eyes intense. Shivers ran down Ashpaw's spine at the sight of him, from the control and clarity on his eyes, to the way he curved against his sister, holding her, protecting her, tail wrapped around her side.

She wanted to be the one there beside him.

The thought attacked Ashpaw, sudden and jarring, stunning her with lights and stars filling her vision. No. No. She didn't need to be thinking such things, such shallow, irrational, foolish thoughts...

But would would it feel, to be there beside him, to look at him with excitement as she recieved her own name, to see the pride shining in his eyes as he looked down her.

No she couldn't! She wouldn't! She shook her head, aggressively, erratically, hoping, pleading that these thoughts would depart, would get out of her head!

Ashpaw shuddered from nose to tail tip, quivering with building anxieties and unspent energy. She looked up, searching for a grounding point, and froze, still as the trees and stones of the forest as she looked at him.

And as he looked at her.

It's 3am and I need to sleep so you wont be getting a long note from me here

Sorry that there's very little dialogue in the second half of the story, but I hoped you liked this chapter!! What do you think about the Ancients? And do you have any opinions on our supporting characters we have here?

Please comment and vote! It makes me really happy to know that people like my story, and the best way to show appreciation is to comment :D