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redux-iterum · 25 days

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Charred Legacy: Chapter One

(AO3 counterpart here.)

All things considered, it was a nice night.

Fireheart was half-rolled onto his back, front paws tucked into his upturned chest while his rear end remained on its side. His tail tapped absentmindedly on the still-warm sand as he gazed up at the stars. The weather had loosened up, mercifully keeping the sky clear and even warming the air a little. It was still somewhat chilled, but the ground had softened from muddy slop to dense soil—still retaining a bit of moisture, but not enough to stick to a traveling cat’s paws—and the frost had barely made an appearance before shying away and melting again into dew.

Thank the Three for small miracles, Fireheart thought as his eyes lazily drifted from star to star. They know we needed it.

Caught up in the beauty of the sky and the grainy comfort of the sand, he was only somewhat registering cats talking around him. Faint squeals drifted out of the nursery’s entrance and his ear twitched at what he thought (hoped, really) was Goldenflower gently chiding the kits inside. Frostfur’s litter was already out, but in the past month they had calmed down considerably and come to prefer talking with the one cat in the apprentice’s den who would soon be a warrior, Swiftpaw, as he regaled them with stories of the territory and all the strange creatures they would see there.

Fireheart twisted his head back and to the side a bit—yes, there they were, listening to the black tom recounting his experience going to the Mother on the far side of the territories.

“And I know she looks scary,” he was saying, “but that’s kind of the point, I think. It makes you respect her even more. You just have to be brave and go into her mouth, trusting her. And Yellowfang will be there to guide you, so you’ll find your way.”

The sole molly of the litter, fluffy ginger-patched Brightkit, spoke up now. “I won’t be scared. The Mother wouldn’t hurt us—we’re her favorites.”

Thornkit, dark and golden-brown, frowned at her. “Still gotta be ‘spectful.”

Fireheart’s mouth twitched into a brief grimace in sympathy as the tom’s ears went back in embarrassment at the end of his sentence. Thornkit still slurred and stumbled over his words, even with as much as Frostfur had worked with him on speaking clearly, and he had been speaking shorter and shorter sentences recently, and at a much lower volume. His siblings understood him just fine, save one.

That one, the deaf little white tom directly in front of Swiftpaw, was Snowkit. His bright blue eyes, wide and vibrant, were fixed on Swiftpaw’s mouth as the apprentice said, “Yeah, it’s important to be quiet on the walk in and during the ceremony. Just wait until Yellowfang speaks to you.”

Brackenkit, a thinner and lighter version of Thornkit, tilted his head. “Will Cinderpaw be there?”

“She was when I went.” Swiftpaw’s eyes lifted upwards as he squinted a bit. “I mean, we did ours together, so that’s why, but I think she’d have to go anyway.” He turned to look at his dark grey sister as she limped out from the ferns by the meeting stump. “Hey, Cinderpaw! Are you going to be with these kits when they do their pilgrimage?”

Cinderpaw beamed with a hacking scoff very similar to her mentor’s. “Obviously! I have to learn how to do it myself, and there’s no way I’m missing out on Brighty getting blessed.” She swept her tail, crooked at the tip, in the direction of the toms. “And you guys, of course.”

Brackenkit seemed to take no offense. “I bet my blessing will be from Rokhar.”

Fireheart purred, rolling slowly onto his side. Of all the three gods, the Tiger was the one he understood the least. Then again, it seemed like everyone outside of the seer role had some trouble grasping exactly what Rokhar was all about. The first seer of Fireheart’s life in ThunderClan, Spottedleaf, had described him as being “in-between” and “all-encompassing”. Even after more than a year of being a Clan cat, Fireheart still had no idea what that meant.

“Why Rokhar?” Swiftpaw asked, sounding amused. “Because he’s the cool—?“

“Because he’s the cool one!” Brackenkit said, exactly in tandem with the apprentice. At another frown from Thornkit, he added, “I mean, they’re all cool, but Rokhar’s the coolest.”

Cinderpaw limped up to the little gathering of the young, her bad leg crumpled up towards her belly. “Knowing your dad, he’s probably telling Horoa right now to bless all of you with a Lion’s touch.”

While the kits all started babbling to each other about whether that was true or not, Fireheart’s heart clenched at the mention of Lionface. He had been the deputy of ThunderClan after Redtail, another first for Fireheart when he had joined the Clan from life as a house cat. Both of them had been great toms, Redtail kind and friendly and Lionface majestic and confident (even if he and Fireheart had clashed here and there). Both of them were gone, and both of them had been…

Fireheart’s claws sank into the sand. He eyed Cinderpaw’s crippled leg.

It had been around a month since the trial that shattered the Clan’s collective heart. No one had spoken of it after it happened, and even the mere implication of something that would link back to that night was hushed or ignored. Fireheart couldn’t stand this thing Clan cats had with refusing to acknowledge bad cats or the things they’d done; it didn’t help anyone feel better, it just made things awkward and sad. Supposedly, the spirits of these bad cats could come back if spoken about or named and haunt the territories, but as far as Fireheart had seen, the only thing they haunted was his dreams.

What he’d give to talk about this with Goldenflower.

But she was in the nursery now, and she needed peace and quiet to raise his adoptive siblings until they were big enough to come out and explore camp. Being forbidden from visiting, Fireheart just had to rely on news shared by Brindleface or Frostfur—mostly Brindleface, as Frostfur had left the nursery early to give the crowded den some room and now only came to check on her nearly-grown kits. Brindleface had been incredibly nervous and sensitive when she was stuck in the den, but now that she had been able to leave her kits for walks here and there…

“Fireheart! There you are!”

The ginger tom blinked and got to his feet, shaking off what sand had clung to his fur. The beautiful grey tortoiseshell in question had just climbed up and out of the nursery, her pale green eyes shining as Fireheart approached her.

“I have a surprise for you,” she said when he was close enough. “Well, two surprises.”

Fireheart perked up. “Really? Are they about Cloudkit?”

“They are.” Brindleface’s fluffy tail curled at the delight that must have immediately brightened up Fireheart’s face. “I’m sorry you couldn’t have come seen him before, but that makes this a little more interesting.”

Cloudkit had been adopted into the Clan, the same as his uncle. Fireheart had been given the kit by his frantic sister, Rosy, and ThunderClan took him in with only a bit of reluctance. The two of them did not look similar—Fireheart was skinny and shorthaired and Cloudkit was a ball of white fluff—and with the automatic distance of Fireheart not being able to visit to see his nephew and bond with him, he could only hope that they wouldn’t be so different that they could not find common ground besides being outsiders at birth, especially since Fireheart had promised to mentor Cloudkit once he became an apprentice.

“What is it, then?” he asked, trying not to sound overly-eager.

“Well, for one…” Brindleface turned and poked her head into the nursery. “Babies, do you want to come out now?”

Indistinct squeaks of excitement immediately followed this, and Brindleface purred before turning back to Fireheart, saying, “That’s the first surprise. They’re ready to meet you.”

Fireheart’s fur flared out and he beamed. “I can see him now!”

Brindleface nodded, her whiskers twitching. “And the second…”

She gestured with her paw just in time for the first kits to scramble out of the den: both grey with broken tabby markings, similar in every way except for the molly being both more delicate in the face and fluffier than her brother. They completely ignored Fireheart and bumbled out into the center of camp. Who followed them was—

Not the kit Fireheart had brought in.

This kit was fluffy and round, sure, but ginger covered his ears and nose and was steadily claiming his tail. His fur was quite long and puffed out, even if he was a bit small; if it weren’t for the unusual color, he would fit perfectly in with the rest of ThunderClan. By the way his deep blue eyes blinked owlishly at Fireheart, he was just as surprised at the reunion.

“Cloudkit,” Brindleface said with another paw-gesture, “this is your uncle, Fireheart. Remember how we talked about him?”

“Ohhh,” Cloudkit said loudly. He looked Fireheart up and down before announcing, “You’re short.”

“Cloudkit!” Brindleface scolded. “That’s rude.”

Fireheart chuffed and bent his head to meet his nephew’s eye-level. “And you’re pudgy.”

Cloudkit squinted at Fireheart. “What’s ‘pudgy’?”

“Fat!” Cinderpaw called from across the clearing.

Cloudkit squawked and slowly and clumsily swatted a paw in the direction of Fireheart’s nose. “’Mnot pudgy! You’re pudgy!”

Brindleface stared at the little tom in baffled embarrassment, but Fireheart pretended to be struck and rubbed his nose like it’d been scratched.

“Don’t beat me up, please,” he said, poorly hiding his amusement. “I’m sorry, you’re not.”

Cloudkit nodded in satisfaction—then, to Fireheart’s surprise, he toddled right up to his uncle and bumped their noses together. Him being so small, it didn’t hurt, but it was more of a punch than usual.

“Hi, uncle,” Cloudkit said, pulling back.

Fireheart’s whiskers twitched. “Hi, nephew.”

“That’s better.” Brindleface stepped forward to lick Cloudkit’s ear. “Are you ready to meet your Clanmates now?”

The little puffball nearly jumped in place and waddled off after his siblings, who were currently interrupting the discussion between Frostfur’s litter and Swiftpaw. Fireheart watched him go, amazed at the strength of the flame of affection in his chest, even when he hadn’t seen the kit since he’d come to the Clan.

“How did his fur get like that?” He turned to Brindleface now. “He was white when I brought him in.”

Brindleface rolled a shoulder. “Kittypet blood, I’m guessing. I’ve never seen anything like that in the territories. I thought he was sick at first, but he’s been perfectly happy and healthy this whole time.” She gave Fireheart a cheeky squint. “Both of you stick out now.”

Fireheart sighed a chuff. “At least he’ll be warm this winter.”

Brindleface nodded. Then her eyes flicked to the side and narrowed a fraction before she walked off after her litter. Fireheart’s gaze followed where she’d looked.

Darkstripe. Of course. He was glaring at the now-wandering Cloudkit.

Fireheart contained another, much heavier sigh. Since the trial, the dark tabby had hardly said more than one word to anyone, and they had to speak to him first. Fireheart hadn’t dared start a conversation with him—Darkstripe had never liked him to begin with, but since the end result of the trial was largely on Fireheart’s shoulders, the hatred in Darkstripe’s eyes burned Fireheart’s back whenever the two had to cross paths. He’d done his best to give the older warrior space, which was difficult when they shared a den.

Anticipating the glare to turn on him, Fireheart prepared to look away and find something else to engage with. He was saved by the camp entrance rustling to reveal the pale brown tortoiseshell Speckletail leading a patrol in. As her followers trotted to the prey-pile, she approached Darkstripe and said something to him Fireheart didn’t catch. Darkstripe didn’t respond beyond a twitch of his lip, getting to his feet and stalking out of camp. Speckletail watched him go, huffed and shook her head before joining the rest of the patrol.

After the loss of the prior deputy—the one that trial had been all about—Speckletail had been selected to replace him. She hadn’t been the expected choice, but she had accepted the role and immediately went about keeping the Clan busy and organized for the first month of her tenure. Fireheart suspected that this was a tactical decision; giving everyone something to do kept them from stewing in their own thoughts over the events of the past fall. Things had finally slowed down, with the warmer weather gifting the Clan with more prey than Fireheart had been told showed up in the end seasons. This was one of the first nights in quite a while that Fireheart had gotten to stay home and just enjoy the peace of camp.

“Good evening,” he said to Speckletail as she walked past him with a woodrat.

She nodded to him, putting down her prey for a moment. “Any word while I was gone?”

Fireheart shook his head, ears going back sadly. “I haven’t spoken to her since a few days ago.”

Speckletail sighed through her nose. Her eyes were tired. “I’ll talk with her once I’ve eaten.” She picked up her prey again and continued on her way, sitting down with Willowpelt on the far side of camp.

Fireheart’s eyes drifted to the wall of briar that surrounded the sandy clearing. Though he couldn’t see it, his gaze landed on the area where the leader’s den was situated on the outside.

Where Bluestar was undoubtedly sleeping.

The trial and the near-murder preceding it had hurt everyone, but it had broken something in the Clan’s leader. Only a few days after the deputy’s execution, Bluestar had become a rare sight. She now walked alone in the forest or holed up in her den, only coming out to order patrols or respond to something Speckletail asked her about. It had been part of the quiet conversation for some time now, but no one dared to broach the topic to Bluestar—even Fireheart, her former apprentice, or Whitecloud, her nephew.

It wasn’t fair, Fireheart wanted to shout to the stars. Of all the cats suffering, why did their leader have to struggle the hardest? The pain and suspicion and fear clouded her eyes and silenced her voice. It had been her throat the deputy’s teeth nearly crushed, her friends and Clanmates he crippled and murdered to get to her. Now, whenever she looked at her charges, it seemed like she was gauging their intentions, how well they could be trusted. Even Fireheart had been under scrutiny more than once.

She really would benefit from being able to talk about this whole thing…

“Cloudkit, please!”

Fireheart blinked and was back in camp. He turned his head to see his nephew marching for the fallen log that was the elder’s den. The elders were already out—lanky and grey One-eye, dark brown Halftail, and black-and-white Patchpelt—but they were talking among themselves, completely unaware of the kit making his way towards them, his siblings trailing behind with curious looks on their faces. Brindleface was padding after them, calling for Cloudkit.

“Let them be—” she started, but Cloudkit broke into a clumsy imitation of a run and continued on. Just as he reached Patchpelt, he tried to slow down, only succeeding in crashing right into the elder and stumbling backwards, plopping into a sitting position.

Patchpelt coughed (as he had been lately) in surprise and looked round to see the kit. His faded eyes brightened. “Well, now! I don’t remember this one.”

“I’m Cloudkit.” The furball blinked up at him. “My sister is Aspenkit and my brother is Ashkit.”

Halftail tilted his head, eyes narrowed analytically.

“You’ve got some ginger on your face, little ant,” croaked One-eye, peering with her single eye at the kit. “Or you’ve been playing in the sand.”

“No, he’s supposed to look like that.” Brindleface hurried up to them. “I’m sorry he disturbed you.”

“You know we love being disturbed,” Patchpelt said fondly, looking at the grey kits as they approached. “Ah, and this must be Ashkit and Aspenkit.”

The tom kit nodded firmly, standing as tall as he could, while the molly lowered her nose and shyly regarded the ground. Cloudkit, meanwhile, was meeting One-eye’s gaze, looking completely unbothered by the marred face that every kit and new apprentice was a little taken aback by. Fireheart noted with pride that he didn’t broach the topic of One-eye’s accident, only chirping, “You’re tall.”

One-eye chortled. “And old, on top of that. Do you know what my name is?”

Cloudkit shook his head.

“I’m One-eye, unsurprisingly.” The pale molly nodded to her denmates. “That’s Halftail and Patchpelt. Can you guess which is which?”

“Um…” Cloudkit scrunched up his little face before answering slowly. “Patchpelt’s got patches, and Halftail’s brown, right?”

“Very good.” Patchpelt purred. “We have easy names to remember.”

Cloudkit brightened up and wagged his short little tail. “I did it!”

“Yes, you did it,” Brindleface said, touching her nose to her adopted son’s head, adding to the elders, “I can distract him if he starts to bother you.”

“Oh, he’s not a bother at all.” One-eye tilted her head comically at Cloudkit, who trilled in response. “I haven’t had a kit not flinch at my face since I became an elder.”

Fireheart watched on as Cloudkit made his way around to Halftail, who eyed him suspiciously but said nothing. An anxiety he didn’t know was in his stomach settled at the warm looks on the elders’ faces when Cloudkit loudly announced, “Fireheart’s my uncle!” and puffed out his little chest.

He’s bold, Fireheart thought affectionately, watching his nephew respond to Patchpelt’s kindly questions about life in the nursery. Rosy, whether or not you get to see him again, I know you’ll be proud.

#warrior cats #redux iterum #iterum #chapter #chapter one #book three #arc one #charred legacy

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dorkybooktrash · 9 months

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I am so very excited to see the “benedict realising he’s popping a boner bc of Sophie and jumping out of the window to take a swim in the lake” scene. Just as much as the ballroom scene. Cmon Shonda. Give me my benedict x Sophie content

#bridgerton #sophie beckett #Sophia beckett #benedict x sophie #benedict bridgerton #book three #an offer from a gentleman

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wayhavenmemes · 1 year

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I loved Bobby's interaction with all the ROs in the demo! I laughed so much at the salt😂

#the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven memes #twc meme #wayhaven chronicles #twc memes #ex bobby #bobby #bobby marks #twc unit bravo #unit bravo #ub #twc book 3 #book 3 demo #book 3 #book three #twc #god bless seraphinitegames #wayhaven

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mothmanavenue · 1 year

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azula’s psychotic break was genuinely the most heartbreaking part of the show??? i’ve never felt so much sympathy for the ‘antagonist’

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ultraericthered · 8 months

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A tale of two "tragic downfall" villains.

Really think about this - the villain is someone who has suffered greatly in his life to the point of being a traumatized, fragile wreck of a person but is a close friend of the story's main protagonist and works alongside them for years until certain events make his hatred, pride, and need for power, control, and the loyalty of others grow and put him on a worse path, on which he betrays the protagonist and leaves them for dead, taking over his friend's group and making all of them follow him now, and when the protagonist returns to face him and get him to relinquish his control of the group, they have a fight to the finish where the villain proves once and for all that he is too far gone to see reason and beyond hope of redemption, so he ends up meeting a terrible, painful demise. Which one did I just describe?

And I don't want to tear either one of them down, since they're both phenomenally written villains who star in their own dark, tragic tales that were both very well executed. ....BUT, I have to go here: I believe there is one thing that one of them got down a lot better than the other one. And it ain't the damn dirty ape.

I am referring to the quality of pathos, which is derived from, for lack of a better word, humanizing the character. Matt Reeves has expressed very clearly that we are intended to feel pathos for Koba, and for his limited screentime in Rise of the Planet of the Apes and in the first act of Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, we do. The poor bonobo was terribly abused, tortured, traumatized, and damaged by callous human scientists and has the physical scars to show it. Even after joining with Caesar and being allowed by him to personally kill his abuser, the deep hatred of humans and fear of what might happen to him and other apes should humans find some way of striking back at them remains with Koba for years; the one thing he ever learned from humans was hatred and nothing else, as Caesar puts it. But the deeper into Dawn we go and the worse Koba gets, the issue arises. Caesar and all these apes were family to Koba for a good many years, years lived in peace and relative happiness, with Caesar even likened to a brother to Koba. However, after a heated dispute with Caesar over his willingness to work with humans turns violent, Koba is beaten down and sees none of the other apes are on his side, he turns his thinking around to view any "weak" ape who'd side with or have leniency on humans to be no better than humans, and that he needs to secure the loyalty of the stronger apes (including Caesar's own son) by taking Caesar's life and framing the humans for it. So he goes for it. And keeps going. And going. And going. And in all this time he's being a villain, the whole second half of the movie, there's not a single moment where Koba ever feels conflicted over what he's doing, no visible traces of remorse nor any sign that he's internally pushing back against remorse because second-guessing himself and surrendering to feelings of shame would reflect weakness. After he's shot his "brother" and left him for dead, Koba is stuck playing the one note of being an evil, wrathful, deranged, murderous monster. There is no metaphorical dog he won't kick, no one he won't mow down in order to assert his dominance and satisfy his rage, and no limit to his blatant hypocrisy. And yes, it was the narrative intent to have Koba slide so far down the slippery slope that he becomes this twisted caricature of his former self who must be put down. But at the time he's condemned and dropped to his painful demise by the ape who was once his brother, there should be a tiny twinge of pity and sadness that it had to come to this....but I think most audiences just cheered when it happened, as there was nothing in Koba left to feel any pity towards.

For Simon, being the equilvalent to what Koba was in the second half of the film occurs only in Book Three's final episode, "The New Apex". In the episodes prior to it, throughout the course of Book Three, Simon is one of the main protagonists and has a wide range of facets and emotions to his characterization; we see moments of him and Grace having the sort of camraderie with each other that could only come from years spent together as friends that makes them both a bit easier to like despite their apalling actions, we get funny bits from him that endear him to us, we see him get sad, get frightened, get confused and unsure of the direction Grace is taking things in, hear about his personal interests, learn about his past trauma, see him vulnerable and interally torn up by conflict. When he works together with Tuba in the Color Clock Car, even sharing a laugh with her, figuring out she's colorblind, and learning more about the sad past with her deceased daughter that also shows him how much Hazel means to her, we can tell that all his views about "Nulls" and about the train are being challenged and he's starting to second-guess himself, to think that this "Null" might be so much more than he'd written her off as from the start, which would lead to guilt and shame over all the "Nulls" he'd mistreated and killed in the past...and so naturally, there's the internal pushback from Simon, because he not only cannot admit to being wrong, he cannot let himself be wrong: he has to be right all the time so that all the years on the train and in the Apex can mean and amount to something beneficial to him rather than having all been a sad waste that'd render him a pitiful, insignificant failure. So with all doubts dispelled from his mind and clear from his consicence, he deliberately and cold-bloodedly sends Tuba to her death, and feels proud to have done so. Things only spiral downward into further darkness and madness from there.

Simon finding out that Grace learned the truth about Hazel before he did and withheld it from him as a secret between herself and the "Null" is the tipping point for him. He snaps, turns against Grace and leaves her for dead, and like Koba, now feels there is no one in his life that he can trust to be on his side unless he were to force their loyal devotion to him through fearmongering and shows of dominance. And yet even in "The New Apex", even with Simon at his most irredeemably loathsome and psychotic, the writing allows for some pathos. When Grace saves Simon from falling off the train, he asks her why she did it. Grace responds "I don't know." Looking at Simon's face in the brief silence that follows, we can tell that deep down in his heart of hearts, he was hoping for Grace to give him a different answer. Something like "because I love you" or "because you're my dearest friend", or "becuse I didn't want to lose you", or "to make amends to you for everything" or even "because you're not the one who deserves to die; you were right about me, about everything." But instead, he hears a vague, ambiguous "I don't know", as it was just basic human decency from Grace and nothing deeper than that. And thus goes away whatever was left of Simon's mind and heart, as he kicks Grace off the train to her apparent death in an act that rescinds years of love and friendship built up with her, raises Simon's number higher than even Amelia's, and sends him into a complete mental breakdown as we see a surge of conflicting moods all over him. So then even if his grisly end that follows elicts some cheering from viewers (I certainly wouldn't blame them!), that tiny twinge of pity and sadness that it had to come to this is very much there by the time Simon is dust on the ground that Grace is sobbing over.

Two exceptional villains in two exceptional works, but only with Simon do I get the sense of a victimized and vulnerable not-all-bad person who tragically descended into becoming a mega asshole. With Koba, I just see a mega asshole.

#Planet of the Apes #Koba #Infinity Train #Book Three #Cult of the Conductor #Simon Laurent #villains #comparison #tragedy #tragic villain #opinion #criticism #analysis

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dovessoiscanon · 1 year

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just reread book three and i'm shaking

contains ✨spoilers✨

Just to make y'all cry imma post the most depressing extracts possible

enjoy ;)

NO NO NO NO NO YOU WILL HAVE LOVE BACAUSE YOU'RE GONNA GET MARRIED AND ADOPT SOPHIE AND AGATHA AND REAPER STAWPPPP

little gay me just died when I read that

they gays always win what can I say ✨🏳��‍🌈

PRECIOUS. god you can see what's coming...

👆 the moment we all thought they were safe 😭😭😭

AHHHH NO THE MOMENT MY HEART STOPPED

CALAMITY. TERROR.

SOMAN U STUPID BITCH WHERE ARE WE GONNA GET REPRESENTATION FROM NOW?!?!

AHHHH MY POOR GIRL SHE JUST WANTED TO LIVE WITH HER GIRLFRIEND

god if they make more movies and Kerry and Charlize do this scene, I will end myself.

this funeral speech made lil old me ruin the book crying

SOPHIE BABES I LOVE YOU BUT YOU WILL NEVER BE HERRRR AGHHHH THE ANGUISH AND PAIN

Well ladies, gents, and nb aristocrats, I am going to go and hurl myself off a cliff. Goodbye ;)

#dovesso #clarissa dovey #leonora lesso #major character death #professor dovey #lady lesso #crying #shaking #i’m really not ok #i need help guys #the school for good and evil #tsgae #sge #the last ever after #book three #book 3

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epnona-the-wisp · 1 year

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#artists on tumblr #original story #salt and light #paraportal #oc #artorbis #book three #sage

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seraphinitegames · 1 year

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The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 24/March/2023

It was a seriously exciting week this week!!

I got the proof-read files back from Hosted Games so as I could do my final look overs before sending it back, which means that it’s really, really done!

Aaaahhhhh!!!!

One super awesome thing was in the content review the proof-reader did was a synopsis of Book Three, and it was pretty much bang on what I wanted the story to be. It really gave me a boost to know that the story I wanted to tell was obviously the one that came across, hehe :D

So yeah, for Book Three now it’s just a case of waiting for that fast approaching release date! We still have lots of fun content planned for the run-up to April 6th so we hope you’re enjoying that!

We also got some more things in motion for Book Four. I have an idea of a better way of editing and testing this time, with a couple of testers and sensitivity readers already on board for the process. The plan is to have people do more of the editing and testing as I go along. I think it will really help to do things in smaller sections than one big thing at the end, especially with how big the games are getting with branching and variation now!

But I suppose now it’s time to actually look at properly putting away Book Three stuff. Filing it away and writing a big ‘COMPLETED’ across the front. Oh man, that makes my nerves spike but also such a feeling of pride and relief. Book Three was a much bigger undertaking than I had planned on it being, but it was also exactly the type of game and story I’ve always wanted to create!

Can't wait for you guys to get right back into those romances and enjoy what's to come! :D

Hope you all have an amazing weekend! We'll be offline as usual, so I'll update you all again next Friday! <3

#the wayhavn chronicles #update #progress report #book three #so close now!

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romancebibliophile · 21 days

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Dreaming Death is book 3 in The House of Marchese Saga. https://books2read.com/Marchesebook4

Book 1 - Cheating Death - can be found here https://books2read.com/Marchesebook1

Tropes

Paranormal - vampires and shifters

True Blood Vibes

Why Choose/ Polyamorous

Fated mates/ Rejected mate

Fake engagement

Vampire Royalty

Small town/ Southern girl

Found family

Action/ Mystery / Adventure

Developing powers in a unique magic system

Sleep is for the weak.

Between saving my mate, hunting for my brother, and trying to overthrow an entire freakin’ empire, catching some Z's feels like a luxury I just don't have time for. Masquerade balls? Check. Daring escapes by every mode of transport known to man? Double check. A creepy Russian vampire who can't seem to take a hint? Ugh, major check.

Maybe I do doze off at times and wake up feeling like I lived an entirely different life. And let's be honest, staying snuggled up with Grayson in Dreamland sounds pretty darn amazing right about now. But the world needs saving, and that ain't gonna happen if I'm snoozing forever. I have to break the spell of these dreams, even if it kills me. While fueled by enough energy drinks to power a small city, of course.

Content Warning

Dreaming Death is a Why Choose Paranormal Romance containing MF, MM, and MMFM scenes. The heroine has multiple romantic partners. 18+ readers only due to strong language and spicy content. A complete list of content warnings is available on the author's site, www.sarahreynoldsbooks.com

#sarah reynolds #book three #why choose romance #paranormal romance #mf romance #mm romance #mmfm romance

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agnisleftpec · 1 year

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ok @akiizayoi4869 opened a can of worms by expressing mild, passing interest on my thoughts on the second half of book 3, so here's my Ramble

disclaimer, this is mostly just initial thoughts. i haven't gone through the Essay Analysis process for this, so there's bound to be holes in my interpretation here.

so 2 topics for this breakdown. 1st, zuko's narrative symbols and how i interpret them. 2nd, how those symbols play out in season 3 and a few gripes with season 3 in general.

this one's fuckin long, so buckle up

part 1, zuko's identity and its symbols

okay so the main symbols i tend to see are as follows: fire, swords, and the blue spirit mask. each represents a part of zuko's identity that is somehow at odds with each other at some point. fire is basically Prince of the Fire Nation. swords are who zuko is detatched from his nation. the blue spirit mask is selfishness and the Ozai mentality, as ive been calling it.

first, fire. pretty big for a symbol, i know. specifically for zuko, i think that fire represents zuko as the crown prince. and that comes with all the turmoil of prince zuko. it starts with being what he's been taught a prince is, following orders and being the loyal son, and ends with what he discovers a prince should be, a protector of his people, even if its from themselves. that mirrors the development of fire throughout the show as initially spooky scary big bad burning rage to actually it's life and love and rage and everything in between, and you have to know how to use it. zuko learning how to firebend without anger parallels him learning that being prince is more than what he was taught.

second, swords. and yes, this is distinct from the blue spirit mask. this is basically "just zuko." it's what zuko relies on when he's not a prince. when the prince can't do anything, "just zuko" can. its what he is when traveling the earth kingdom, basically nationless and without a higher identity to cling to. it's instinctual, something he's good at, and something he hides away because it's not becoming of a Prince to be "just zuko."

the most important aspects of this symbol come when they are used without the mask. in zuko alone, he uses the swords to defend innocent people from cruel soldiers. (he decidedly does not use the mask.) the one time zuko firebends while using his swords, combining "prince" and "just zuko," he is punished for combining them and run out of town. (wouldn't it be great if there was a chance for positive reinforcement of combining these symbols later on?) he uses the swords against jet to defend his right to be "just zuko" in ba sing se. he uses them against ozai when he finally sees through the ozai mentality (more on that in a sec) and leaves to teach aang firebending. he presents himself as "just zuko," who was never enough for ozai, and tells ozai to go fuck himself.

third, the blue spirit mask is a combo of selfishness and the ozai mentality.

the ozai mentality is the idea that some things are awful and essential. they are excusable because of the end result. the war, zuko's banishment, his disfigurement. the ozai mentality isnt necessarily tied to the blue spirit, but the blue spirit doesn't exist without it. he steals the avatar from zhao because it's essential (not princely, he doesn't firebend. its horrible for a prince to do, but essential). he steals song's ostrich horse because its essential. he sides with azula in ba sing se because its essential. awful, but essential. these last two happen without the mask because the ozai mentality sticks to zuko far beyond the reaches of the mask as a symbol. (so maybe the mask doesn't actually represent the ozai mentality, and that just doesn't have a symbol, idk lol, im just moving past that, rigidly defined symbols are hard.)

the selfishness is over-indulgence, taking more than he should, stealing in excess because he deserves it. it's only believing in the ozai mentality when it serves him.

letting go of the blue spirit mask is getting rid of the idea that what he wants is more important than the world, as much as it is the first step in accepting that some things that happen are not essential. ("it was cruel and it was wrong" doesn't come out until he starts to reject the ozai mentality.)

the mask and the swords make the blue spirit. the blue spirit is what zuko doesn't think is princely, doesn't think is honorable, but he'll do because fuck the world, he deserves this. sounds nice in theory, but not great self care in practice. selfishness, the ozai mentality, and "just zuko" collide in a mix of someone who doesn't have the responsibilities of being prince on their head, but still feels they're owed by the world. who feels like some things just have to happen, and it sucks, but they had it coming. the blue spirit is the worst part of "just zuko", and is abandoned in lake laogai because it only hurts him.

(the mask and fire are incompatible because the blue spirit and the prince are incomaptible. the blue spirit does horrible things that cant be honorable, and the prince can't be selfish in the face of his people's needs.)

if you want more on the blue spirit and vigilantism, here's my breakdown of that in a reblog. it has been changed since OPs reblog, mostly cuz i was acting like there was zero justification for the avenging vigilante take even though the first time zuko does blue spirit shit in season 2, it's literally that. had to think for a bit and clarify. lmao when you wrong, you wrong.

part 2, book 3 second half dumb

so imo, i think the second half of book three feels like a checklist. like, zuko joins gang, zuko reconciles with our list of characters that need reconciliation, token recap comedy, finale. you know exactly whats coming, which i guess isn't bad, but i always struggle to rewatch these episodes cuz it really feels like a list of narrative tasks instead of a story.

so, down the list, episode by episode:

the firebending masters was a great episode, but how was it one fucking episode? a character just fucking losing their bending?? no one is concerned?? this hasn't come up before, why is no one terrified by the fact that this can just happen? also also, why is it resolved in a grand total of one episode? same with Aang's reluctance to firebend. i get what the writers were going for, but a couple of missable lines about "fire is life actually" doesn't do much convincing after an entire show's worth of effort showing us the dangers of fire. give us some time to learn to love it, like come on. take us through that journey with aang. let it culminate in the firebending masters, where aang finally feels like fire is a part of him, and zuko finally knows how to exist without rage driving him.

zuko and aang's relationship also needs more attention. for a whole episode meant to convince us that all feelings are resolved, i was left feeling more awkward than when we started. frankly, i feel that way about everyone. zuko literally has direct character parallels to every gaang member that would be so fun to explore, and yet these episodes felt so hamfisted to me. (aang & zuko: homesickness, did something stupid and cant go home because of it, trying to preserve their culture being swallowed by the war. katara & zuko: anger, emotions, mothers died/vanished protecting them from the fire nation. sokka & zuko: "less talented" sibling to a prodigy, and all the fucked up emotions that that comes with, swords. toph & zuko: aristocratic upbringing, and literally everything iroh said when toph ran into him for tea during The Chase.)

specific annoyances with the symbols, a lot of people think that zuko should've been able to use firebending with his swords more often, and i wholeheartedly agree. i mentioned it earlier, but this combo only happens once, in Zuko Alone. zuko bends with his swords and immediately introduces himself as prince, heir to the throne, and also still fighting off these shitty soldiers and still holding his swords. its proof that the prince and "just zuko" can coexist, and can do it well.

he's forced to leave town for that, and we never see him firebend while holding swords again. fuckin wack is what that is. bad wack.

what we needed was a reconnection of those symbols after that loss of faith. we needed to reconfirm that zuko can be fire lord, because "just zuko" and the prince work together beautifully.

there's a huge amount to tell through these symbols as well, with zuko losing his firebending after betraying his father and technically giving up his place on the throne. it's so obvious that im frustrated it was never brought up. zuko gave up on being prince, in ozais image at least, and now needs to relearn to be prince in his own image or else not be prince at all. he needs to learn to bend without anger, or else not bend at all.

additionally, aang and zuko's relationship ties in with these symbols. aang has personally dealt with each one of them, and surprisingly, its the mask and the swords that he gets along with in terms of zuko. (not entirely sure thematically how to resolve the blue spirit mask and aang connection, but also im just yelling at a wall here, not rewriting the season lmao.) they were amazing fighting companions in the blue spirit episode, where fire and the prince were nowhere in sight. when it comes to fire, that has a loaded history.

i would have loved to see an extended version of events that showcased aang and zuko meshing unreasonably well for recent enemies, all until they see the dragons and firebending pops up. after all, its the prince part of zuko that causes the most trouble, so aang thinks. aang learning firebending isn't just about learning that fire is a part of him as the avatar, but also about learning that zuko being prince is okay and doesn't mean they can't be friends. that tension resolves when we finally get some scene that prompts zuko to start bending with his swords, and both he and aang realize that these two parts of zuko are stronger together.

the boiling rock episodes are a joy to watch, but the outcome of the episodes feels so pointless when in the next episode, we immediately separate from hakoda again. like?? there's got to have been a better way to deal with this. the most important things in those episodes were sokka reaffirming his own skills to himself in the wake of the invasion, and azula being betrayed by her friends. the fact that hakoda, suki, and a random ass guy??? were treated as an afterthought to be disregarded next episode is obnoxious. (ok, suki wasnt disregarded, but she also got gaang position with hardly any narrative work, which is annoying cuz she doesn't deserve to be snubbed like that.)

the southern raiders gave katara some closure, dragged zuko along cuz the checklist!!, and then promptly disregarded everything except for "now katara wont kill zuko." like, it even got rid of the shit katara learned. this episode seems like it has a lot it wants to say, but fails to meaningfully say anything, and therefor leaves viewers in a spot where they have to come up with a moral lesson on their own. which is fine, i guess, but it's also a kids show. if there's any place to be direct about your morals, this is it. the episode thematically is in line with things that zuko would do with the blue spirit mask. its all about how that selfish mentality taunts everyone, and that like katara, zuko is also tmepted by it. the selfish need to get what you think you deserve, regardless of what the world needs. regardless of what you actually need. showing this same thread in katara is amazing, and so key to her character development. especially when she, despite being fully enabled by zuko, refuses to submit to it.

we jump forward to aang being anxious over killing ozai, and katara doesn't side with him. after all that?? like i understand there are differences, but i thought the point of the episode was that sometimes bad people go unpunished because enacting "appropriate" punishment will hurt the punisher, and that's not worth it. killing her mom's murderer would've hurt katara in ways that she didn't need. sparing him was not a mercy to him, but to herself. if that guy tripped and fell off a cliff the next day, it wouldn't matter. the point was that katara didn't put herself through that suffering. and now she's totally fine with aang needing to go through that? i don't believe it.

zuko would. zuko will. he'd fucking kill ozai in heartbeat. he might have gotten better at spotting it, but he has not gotten rid of the ozai mentality. it sucks, but it's essential. his dad must die.

and he expects aang to believe the same, and that's another bit of conflict that isn't touched on enough. zuko is ready and willing to kill his own father, regardless of the harm it would do to himself, and i feel like that should be more concerning to the gaang than it is. at the very least, to aang and katara, who have both been in situations where they could kill someone who made their life awful and refused to. and despite the fact that it's good for the world, leaning into the ozai mentality in order to justify killing ozai is fucked up. the show makes a point of telling us this, the whole finale tries to drive it home. the entire show is about refuting this mentality, and now zuko, ozai's son, the guy who's trying so hard to be good, has slipped into it so seemlessly he didn't even flinch, and no one is concerned? cmon.

also the energybending stuff? we coulda worked that in sooner. we've been talking about energy connecting people since the swamp episode. we've been talking about bending being a restriction of the mind since lightningbending, since metalbending. im not opposed to the creepy lion turtle vacation, but there were ways to foreshadow energybending as a solution before the finale, and they just didnt.

also also toph and zuko deserved better. where the fuck was their field trip? they didn't get one because the point of those episodes was not friendship, it was reaching a baseline of okay.

which is another thing. fandom is awesome, but watching season 3, i still don't believe that zuko is anywhere near close to these kids. they're hardly friends by the end of this, and based on what the show shows me, i fully believe that the coronation was the first time aang even called zuko his friend. and that's not something someone like aang would hold off on, so they're very much just battle bonded companions until the epilogue.

and i mean, if it works, it works. there's only so much time, but still. i think there should've been 4 seasons, enough to actually establish friendships between zuko (and suki, fuck she's so ignored its stupid) and the gaang and really drive home the fact that joining the gaang wasn't just good for the world, but was good for zuko too.

anyway, thats my uh. rant. about season 3. clearly overshadowed by my love of zuko's character with a heavy lean into Aang's space because he's blorbo no. 2 and i love aang and zuko's relationship because of the parallels.

i have no conclusion. hope you enjoyed adhfjdh

#thank you for coming to my tedtalk #atla #zuko #aang #katara #sokka #book three #characterization #my takes #narrative themes #critical takes

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velvet4510 · 1 month

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redux-iterum · 10 days

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Charred Legacy: Chapter Three

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Yeesh.”

“Yeah.”

Greystripe shuddered and squinted in the direction of the distant Fourtrees, like he could see the dogs coming already. “One thing after another, huh? You think they’ll show up here?”

“I hope not, but…” Ravenwing shook some soil off his paw. “I don’t trust our luck. Nor do I trust those dogs.”

Fireheart stretched out, the early evening warmth still permeating the ground under him, which he knew to appreciate before he lost it by the time the moon was fully up. Greystripe had been asleep when the Gathering party had returned home last night, and Fireheart had insisted on not waking him up with such grave news as the leaders had given. Ravenwing had complied, but roused his friends early this evening for a “hunting patrol”, which was really an excuse to walk in the woods while they still had that freedom. Whatever Bluestar was thinking about the warning from Rookstar, she hadn’t said, but by the time everyone turned in for sleep, common opinion was near-certain she would restrict wandering about in the forest alone or in a small group. Just for safety, obviously, not that the reason made it any more fun.

“It’s the fact that we don’t have any information at all that bugs me,” Ravenwing continued. “There’s more than one, and that’s it. That’s all we know.”

“That’s at least something, isn’t it?” Fireheart asked, trying to sound hopeful and probably not doing a good job. “We know to watch out for several dogs.”

Ravenwing shook his head. “I mean, sure, but we’ll live with the uncertainty that, if one or more go away for whatever reason, we don’t know if all of them left, or just some. Two could leave, but then another one from the pack shows up when we don’t expect it, and we’re feather-plucked.”

“One thing at a time.” Greystripe lifted a paw and lowered it in a “settle down” gesture. “They’re probably still near WindClan territory. ThunderClan just needs to form a plan while we can.” He paused. “Whatever that plan may be.”

“And maybe humans will catch them first,” Fireheart added. “Anything could happen.”

Ravenwing, sitting up while the others were reclining, kneaded the ground and grimaced at the marks his claws were making, muttering, “We still ought to err on the side of pessimism.”

Neither Greystripe nor Fireheart responded to this. Fireheart instead swiveled his ears this way and that, keen on any small noise he could detect, just in case pessimism was warranted. All he got was a familiar, rushing rumble on the edge of his hearing.

“Hey, you can hear the river from here,” he remarked cheerfully. “It really got filled up from all that rain, didn’t it? Even though it’s been so dry this month, it’s still loud.”

Ravenwing slowly lifted his head and mimicked Fireheart’s ears, pulling himself out of his dour mood. “Huh. You can.”

Fireheart looked over at Greystripe, who had his ears turned as well, but more bittersweetly back than curiously pivoted towards the direction of the distant river. His eyes were half-shut with grieving affection.

“You know…” he said after a moment. “She never found a nickname for me.”

Ravenwing’s tail went stiff. Fireheart sadly sighed under his breath.

“Just a little bit of a bummer.” Greystripe’s head turned round to where the river sang. “It’d be nice to have at least that, you know? Something tangible to remember her by.” He made an attempt at an amused snort that came out more as a limp huff. “I mean, something tangible in this Clan.”

Fireheart didn’t say anything, but his mind soared over the river and went straight into whatever RiverClan had as a nursery, where a litter of grey kits nursed at a belly that wasn’t their mother’s. How much did they look like Greystripe now?

Ravenwing sank onto his belly, looking a bit queasy. He murmured something, seemingly to himself.

“What?” Fireheart tilted his head.

“Nevermind,” Ravenwing said, jerking his head up. “Just. Thinking.”

A memory shouldered its way into the forefront of Fireheart’s mind. In a bid to change the mood, he said to Ravenwing, “Well, at least you never had to learn that lesson the hard way, right?”

The mood changed indeed—Ravenwing flinched and stammered, “Are yo– don’t bring up that whole thing! It’s not the same!”

Greystripe looked back at them, frowning. “What’s not the same?”

Fireheart almost leapt to his feet, instantly eager at this chance of merriment. “Oh, it’s—” He looked at Ravenwing, who was burying his face in his paws. “Can I tell him?”

“Go ahead,” Ravenwing grumbled.

Immediately, Fireheart turned back to Greystripe, tail dancing in delight. “Ravenwing likes Wrenwhisker, and he overheard us talking about it at that one Gathering while we were still fighting, and he winked at Ravenwing and walked off.”

“You—” Greystripe almost coughed out a halting chuff of disbelief. “Excuse me? You—”

“It’s not him specifically!” Ravenwing blurted in protest. Then his voice dropped to a mumble. “It’s all WindClan toms.”

Greystripe’s face was unsure whether to be outraged or highly amused. “And you yelled at me!”

“That’s what I said!” Fireheart near-trilled.

Greystripe shook his head, his eyes bright and amazed. “I cannot believe the hypocrisy.”

“I didn’t go after anyone, Greystripe,” Ravenwing said hotly. “I can appreciate from a distance! Wasn’t I just appreciating, Fireheart?”

Fireheart’s eyes were almost squeezed shut as he beamed at Ravenwing, putting on an airy voice. “You certainly could have done the exact same thing as Greystripe instead, I suppose.”

“Okay—” Greystripe lifted his tail for silence, visibly struggling to decide what thing to dunk on Ravenwing for first. “For one—for one—you have the audacity to fancy an entire Clan of toms and then get mad at me for picking one molly across the river. For two…” He tilted his head and squinted at Ravenwing, snorting. “WindClan? Are you serious? Have you seen those cats?”

“Yes!” Ravenwing glared at him with no severity. “Have you?”

“Look, I could get, like, RiverClan—”

“Yeah, you could,” Ravenwing muttered.

“Shut up,” said Greystripe. “I could get RiverClan, but WindClan is literally the least attractive set of cats in the territories. Their faces are weird—”

“They have handsome faces!”

“With those dog-eyes and long noses?!”

“Yes!”

“How in—” Greystripe shook his head again. “You are out of your mind.”

“They’ve got a unique beauty to them!” Ravenwing looked to Fireheart now. “Come on. Aren’t they handsome?”

Fireheart rolled a shoulder. “Well, I think everyone’s got their own flavor of beauty, no matter where they come from.”

“Why are you asking him?” Greystripe said to Ravenwing with a chortle. “You know he’s never looked twice at any cat at all, much less appraised their appearance.”

“He can still have standards,” Ravenwing sniffed.

“My standards are that everyone’s got something,” Fireheart said when the bigger toms looked at him. “I mean, we all look good to someone, right? Isn’t that how it goes?”

“I will catch you every single mole in this forest if you can point out a cat that thinks Yellowfang looks good,” Greystripe said.

“Or Darkstripe,” Ravenwing added sourly.

“Darkstripe’s ugly is from the inside, it just came out in his face.” Greystripe squinted in amusement. “Honestly, I don’t know how anyone born from Patchpelt could have that hideous of a personality.”

Fireheart blinked. “Wait, he’s Patchpelt’s son?” He looked at Ravenwing. “Your grandpa? Then he’s…”

“My uncle,” Ravenwing finished. He scowled. “I try not to think about it.”

“Wow.” Fireheart nearly cuffed his own ear in admonishment. “How did I never find this out? I’ve been here for, like, over a year now, and I never knew!”

Greystripe leaned a little his way, speaking in a conspiratorial voice that was poorly hiding its humor. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Darkstripe is kind of a slitprick.”

“Greystripe!” Fireheart mimed cuffing his friend’s too-far-away ear instead. “That’s not nice!”

All he got was a chuff in response. “Neither is Darkstripe. Would you want to acknowledge that you’re related to him?”

“Not in thlain* years,” Ravenwing said, still scowling. “And if he doesn’t want to acknowledge us, that’s fine by me. I have pampam** and that’s all I need.”

“Well…” Fireheart mulled over this for a moment. “It’s still sad for family not to feel like family.”

“Not with that piece of—” Ravenwing started, and abruptly jerked his head back and scrubbed at his muzzle like there was dirt on it. “Nevermind.”

Greystripe leaned forward with an expression similar to Yellowfang’s frog-like grin. “No, no, go on. What is he a piece of?”

“Forget it.” Ravenwing tucked his paws under his body. “Fireheart’s here.”

“Are you afraid to sully his innocent ears?”

“No, but he’ll scold me.” The black tom narrowed his eyes. “I’ve got a worse name for him than you do.”

Fireheart regarded Ravenwing with amazement. “You are just full of surprises today. Are you going to tell me you secretly have crow-wings next?”

Ravenwing swiped dust at Fireheart with his long tail. Fireheart sneezed a chuff, and the trio fell into a comfortable silence as the moon’s rising slowly reclaimed the warmth of the ground.

---

They couldn’t stay out forever; eventually the cold ground got to them and they rose, returning home with a couple mice they had caught along the way. Whitecloud was leaving Bluestar’s den when they reached the entrance of camp and greeted them with a nod.

“It isn’t much,” Ravenwing said, his mouse dangling from his mouth by its tail, forcing him to talk through clenched teeth. “We just went out for a walk.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Whitecloud said with a slow blink. “We’ll be alright for a night. Perhaps bring that to Brindleface, she was hungry earlier.”

Something in his usually-warm yellow eyes seemed to be… missing. Fireheart, not carrying any prey, paused in his walking just before reaching the tunnel. Greystripe looked back at him questioningly and Fireheart silently nodded for him to keep going. Obediently, the hulking grey tom turned forward again and followed Ravenwing.

Whitecloud was watching Greystripe and his former apprentice disappear. It took a long moment for him to realize Fireheart was watching him. He turned and looked down at him, eyes falsely creased. “How can I help you?”

Fireheart tilted his head, concerned. “Are you okay?”

The tall tom, just for an instant, seemed to shrink at the question, before recovering quickly and purring. “I’m fine, Fireheart. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Liar, Fireheart thought, but he played it carefully; he glanced at the lichen in front of the leader’s den, just past Whitecloud, and then back to him. He lowered his voice. “Is Bluestar okay, then?”

To his relief, Whitecloud didn’t brush this off. He, too, looked back at Bluestar’s den, sighed and lowered his angular head to speak quietly to Fireheart.

“Physically, yes, she’s okay,” he murmured. He paused. “Mentally… mentally, I’m not so sure.”

Something in Fireheart’s mind iced over, but he stayed calm. “Everything that happened really did get to her, didn’t it?”

“It did.” Whitecloud sighed. “But I worry that it affected her in a different way. Has she… has she sounded alright, to you? No slurred words or strange things she’s said?”

Fireheart blinked, confused. “She’s been fine. Maybe a little terse, but that’s about it. Why would she…?”

He trailed off at the sight of something invisible lifting itself off of Whitecloud’s back, settling his spine into a slouch. “Good. Good. It’s just that…” He drew in a breath and held it for a long moment before exhaling his next sentence. “I don’t know if she ever told you about Gooseleaf. Her uncle.”

Fireheart shook his head.

“He was unwell,” Whitecloud said quietly. “Hallucinated, had mood-swings. He was lucky enough to make it to the seer position, where StarClan could take care of him and speak to him in a way he’d understand. But he was paranoid and easily frightened, and he saw things that StarClan certainly didn’t send to him. I don’t remember much of him beyond being told not to say anything that could set him off.”

Fireheart felt his face fall. “That’s sad. Poor tom.”

Whitecloud shut his eyes. “Indeed. But he wasn’t the only one in our family that had struggles only found in their head. Bluestar’s grandmother, I was told, lived a long time, and when her mate died, she slowly became confused and distressed, asking where cats were that had died before she was an apprentice. She was made an elder early to keep her safe, because she wandered into the forest alone and approached a badger cub thinking it was one of her kits. The real mother nearly killed her.”

Fireheart nodded for him to continue, the ice reaching his stomach.

“I just…” Whitecloud looked back to the leader’s den, his eyes foggy. “I see Bluestar now: hiding, tired, scared. I worry that… everything… is going to affect her mentally. Make things worse for her. She’s hardly even telling me anything, and I’m the only family she has left. She’s never kept secrets from me.”

Ice in his toes now. Fireheart tried to clench his teeth, but his thoughts escaped him anyway. “If we were allowed to talk about ‘everything’, I think it would help her get some of that out. It could make her feel better. Make all of us feel better.”

As he could have predicted, Whitecloud started, “We can’t run the risk of bringing his soul back—”

“Horoa’s hunters must have caught him by now,” Fireheart said, surprised at the sternness in his own voice. “And just pretending that nothing happened, while it doesn’t leave our heads—he’s haunting our hearts anyway. Talking about it could help us move on.”

Whitecloud looked a little surprised, too. He recovered and gazed down at Fireheart with a mixture of affection and sadness. “…Maybe so.”

Fireheart caught himself with a breath, and with that his calmness returned. “I mean, I could at least try to talk to Bluestar myself. I am her apprentice. If she won’t tell you, maybe she’ll tell me.”

“And you are very good at getting people to talk,” Whitecloud purred. He nodded and turned for the tunnel. “Very well, then. I trust that you can be easy on her. Whenever you feel like it, try.” He stopped and looked back, his eyes serious. “But if you see her acting oddly at all, tell me immediately. It’s much more important than I can emphasize.”

Fireheart dipped his head in respect and agreement, and the senior warrior retreated into camp. Fireheart did not follow him immediately. Instead, he regarded Bluestar’s den, his stomach twisting into knots that were still quite cold.

She’ll be okay, he thought. She has to be. We need her.

*”Thlain”: A thousand, a million, infinity, or some other humongous, uncountable number.

**”Pampam”: Affectionate form of “pamarpam”, meaning “grandfather”. Similar to saying “gramps”.

#warrior cats #redux iterum #iterum #chapter #chapter three #book three #arc one #charred legacy

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