No one knows how the first cats came to the river. Some say that they had been there long as the moon and the sun, while others claim they entered seeking shelter from a place down the river where prey was scarce and cruelty was rampant. The details of their arrival will likely never be more than fodder for the tales of particularly inventive elders and queens seeking to occupy their kits, but any cat worth their claws can tell you the origin of the two fearsome warrior clans who made their homes among the banks.

It began generations back, at a time when the river ran high and prey was rich in both territories. At this time, two groups of cats thrived in the area, situated on opposite sides of the river.

On one side was a land of light and tall grasses, made sparse in trees by a fire that had destroyed the already plain area many moons ago. Since that time, the land had recovered well and now showed few, if any, signs of scarring. Any fallen trees were long grown over, as the brush had a way of devouring anything within reach of the earth. Still, the thickets were teeming mice and rabbits, and the land was warm and bright. The celestial bodies above shone on every leaf, bramble, and stalk, as if claiming it for their own. The inhabitants were kind and fleet of foot, well suited for the land, and they were known to gaze upwards late at night, sharing tongues and enjoying the splendor of their home. They were pious in their devotion to the land and the stars both, and lived on a strict and rigorous moral code.

On the other was a forest of thin trees and high hills, set on a land that sloped downwards as if racing towards the river, hoping to be consumed. The floor of the woods was coated with a heavy pelt of autumn leaves at all times, which turned it all shades of red and gold in leaffall and a dim brown during the other seasons. Perhaps due to an insurgence of outsiders not long before, the cats who lived there were often torn in allegiance between warring leaders, cats of great power and vigor who sought to lead the group but often had no idea how to do so once they seized control. Though unease hung over them like a thick smoke, the cats who made their home in the woods were nonetheless strong and hardy, used to bounding up and down the uneven terrain to catch squirrels or leap after birds, where they could find them.

The prosperity of their land, however, could not cease the internal problems that plagued both tribes. On the bright, grassy side of the river, a mysterious plague ripped through the numbers of the wildcats as the fire had once devastated the forest. On the other side, beneath the trees, a new leader known as Talon emerged as leader over the cats of the forest. He had no intents of being dethroned in the same way his predecessors had, and so he kept his gang of warriors busy by turning their loyalties against each other, playing at past quarrels and disputes as he set the rules for his new regime- the strongest would rise to the top, and his warriors would fight like dogs for positions and privilege within the group.

Though Talon had no true desire to raise an heir, a high-ranking she-cat bore his kits, which he remarked she should consider an honor of the highest degree. She was fierce, though more out of determination than the spite that plagued the other high ranks, and her first and last litter shared her spirit. They were known as Shallow Step and Rye Claw, named in the tradition of their mother's ancestors. Rye Claw surged up the ranks in sheer strength alone, while Shallow Step tended to use more cunning methods to avoid fights altogether, but both young warriors were highly regarded as some of the best and strongest among their number.

While Shallow Step enjoyed the attention, Rye Claw was restless and felt called to the river. The two cats were good friends in spite of their differences and often wandered off with only each other for company, knowing they would not be followed or confronted. One day when the river was low they found a bend at the far end of the territory, where they could cross to the other side. Curious, Rye Claw stepped across and traversed the new lands with his weary brother at his back.

Both of them, however, had not expected to meet other cats. These strange outsiders were small in number and weak, claiming to have just weathered a plague, but they still had a comradery and strength about them unknown to the two young cats. They admitted they were from the other side of the river, and the others seemed to recoil at this. Confused and startled by this reaction, and seeing as it was late, the two brothers bid them a hasty farewell and returned to their own land with a promise to return when they could.

Rye Claw, noting the strange cats' discomfort when the brothers had stated their origin, decided it would be best that they not reveal where they had been to their father. Shallow Step reluctantly agreed and one secret journey grew to two, then to three, and eventually a web of lies and adventure they both delighted in.

Though their positions suffered for it, they were healthier than the other cats by far, as prey in the forest had begun to give out beneath the weight of leafbare and the increased number of voraciously hungry and over competitive cats inhabiting the land.

The cats of the shadowed forest no longer fought for position, but for every morsel of food. Queens were protected solely by their mates, but in time even they were forced to unsheathe their claws and fight just to feed their kits another day.

Rye Claw and Shallow Step, who had become accustomed to the kinder and wiser laws of the other side of the river, were appalled by this, and begged the cats on the other side to help their starving groupmates. However, the cats of the brush could not invite such a powerful force to their land when they were already low in power, and instead they began working with Rye Claw and Shallow Step to subvert Talon's brutal reign from within. Shallow Step used his keen wit to gather forces within the forest while Rye Claw honed his skills and those of their allies on the other bank in preparation for the coming battle, and while both were working hard to better their chances, they were often unaware of how hard the other was working and felt resentful.

Still, the time came for that awful battle and the whole territory rang with the sound of caterwauls and shrieks of agony that day, for both sides knew their very existence was at stake. Neither side fought with honor and many heads were dashed on the rocks of the territory, as well as many bodies split open to dye the leaves the leaffall colors they had lost.

Both sides were evenly matched and the fight went on far into the night, until Talon seized upon his sons and with the strength of a dozen warriors, dispatched them both. Shallow Step was hurled against the trees, falling silent against a mighty birch, and Rye Claw's limp body fell into the river, his chest bright as deathberries.

The invading cats, that noble army, stood silent, and the cats from the far side of the river looked upwards for an answer from the still sky. To the shock of everyone there, the two brothers emerged from woods and shore dappled in starlight, more powerful than before they had been knocked down. They had claimed, as the others would later find out, not one more but rather eight more lives that day, but just the miracle of their rebirth was enough to stun Talon. Together they attacked their father and slit his throat, letting his blood run into the river below. The water ran red that night and cats of both sides were left to sink into the depths. Still, as the water snatched away the dead, the stars above shone as if to comfort the living. In the reflection of the river, one could see those who had perished alive and well, ascending from the river into the night sky to join something far greater than themselves.

Rye Claw and Shallow Step had changed that night, and they both claimed to have seen the dead when they themselves had been close to their last breath. The cats from both sides of the river, leaderless, listened the next day as the brothers announced the new order of things, decreed to them by the stars themselves. It was a strange mix of the ways of both sides of the river, with a bit of this and that naming scheme, old traditions and new ones, and all the cats found the laws to be just.

Rye Claw and Shallow Step renamed themselves Ryestar and Shallowstar, in memory of their connection to the starry cats above, and proceeded to give new names to all the assembled cats in the way their vision had told them to and explaining the ranks, how queens would be cared for and how the young would go through a period of training before joining the ranks of the eligible warriors. Two medicine cats, emissaries to the stars and talented healers, were picked from the ranks of cats and seemed pleased to hear that their strange talents would finally be of use.

While everyone was pleased with the new rules, everyone was shocked to hear that Ryestar and Shallowstar were not to be joint leaders of a new, singular group, but planned to make their own, separate clans, one on each side of the river. They were to be called RyeClan and ShallowClan, and the two brothers conferenced long into that next night on how to split their assembled cats.

Shallowstar, clever as ever, convinced his brother that one of them should pick which territory was whose and the other should pick out their first choice of cats. He was not hesitant to stay in the old territory, war-torn as it was, but he knew his brother would not risk losing the tall grasses and glorious sun he had fallen in love with over their many moons of visiting there. Ryestar agreed both to the preposition and to pick the territory first, and Shallowstar took his choice of cats, choosing many of the most qualified and loyal warriors among the lot.

The brothers, satisfied with their choices, separated the next day, with ShallowClan staying behind as Ryestar and his cats came to the bend and passed it, disappearing into their new land.

The two leaders quickly appointed a second in command to succeed them if things were to go sour, and began collaborating with their new deputy and medicine cat on how to run the new and unsteady clan. Shallowstar and Ryestar missed each other greatly, but they had not planned any future meeting times and their duties were far too important in those early days to go sneaking away to the river to meet.

Another leafbare passed and both clans had their fair share of turmoil. The land in ShallowClan was still poor in prey from those awful days beneath Talon, and many good warriors died because of it. RyeClan had issues with many belligerent warriors who often needed to be forcefully subdued. Ryestar and Shallowstar attempted to talk out what they could, but time and duty had made them bitter to each other. They hardly recognized the brother they had once spent every day with, and both could offer little assistance to the other. While they kept their dignity and some loyalty to their kin, their warriors were far less forgiving and it became clear that the two sides were destined to become warring factions no matter what the brothers did.

In time, the brothers passed, their last life falling from them and into the river, where all cats were left after their death, so that their spirits might rise from the water and into the stars. Though their spirits asked the medicine cats and new leaders, in prophecy as well as candid advice, that the two clans make peace, without their original leaders the two clans came closer and closer to the brink of war. At the bend where the brothers once bridged two worlds into one, a warrior from each clan now sat and kept the two territories apart, hoping that their presence might ward away the other.

This is where we begin: in a world that had not yet cleansed the blood from beneath the old leaves of the forest, ripe once again for a slaughter on the hills.

Perhaps it is a story of two brothers, or perhaps two clans, or perhaps just many cats struggling to survive, cats convinced for the sake of their loved ones that their actions were just.

Regardless, it is a story that can not be told alone, and it is a long one, long as the river that binds us all, encompassing even the night sky.