you're on your own, kid (tidestar ceremony)

[chill]

"you're on your own kid, yeah you can face this"

tidestar

there was a slight chill to the night air, not unusual for the season but somehow unexpected to tidebreak. her pawsteps against the fresh new-leaf grass made many assumptions as they traveled through the clans’ territories and continued through the spaces beyond, but she didn’t feel the need to voice them to the quiet presence of cosmos-streak that she felt behind her. to say things out loud gave them credibility, probability, and perhaps certain things were better left to the imagination (not thought of at all). the she-cat shook out her pelt periodically as she walked, and with it, any lingering cobwebs of unwarranted thoughts. she couldn’t help but note for easily the fourth or fifth (so easy to lose count) time that night how clear the sky was, not a cloud in sight. the moon sat above them, a dangling crescent cradling the stars, and she desperately hoped (oh, there she went with those thoughts again) that each one of those glowing specks could hold the answers, the solace, she sought.
she felt bad for cosmos-streak, forced to take this long journey with her out of ceremonious obligation. it wasn’t a particularly joyous task for him, she thought, now moreso than ever. this was a ceremony of mourning as much as it was anything else (given one knew whom to mourn) but part of her was glad to have him, if only for the fact that his presence with her meant another member of riverclan was safe. this task had been put off far too long for that simple reason; she simply couldn’t escape the petrifying fear that her clan would be lost if she let it out of her sight. but she had to have faith (some, always) in whatever came next for her. riverclan would be there when she returned.
as the silhouette of highstones became more and more clear in front of them, the deputy felt her gait begin to slow. she knew what awaited, or rather, everything she’d ever been told was waiting. and yet somehow, she was still hesitant (scared). it wasn’t the idea of what she’d come here for that sent the creeping doubt, the tingling cold across her skin, no. tidebreak had changed names before, risen ranks, shifted positions within her clan. in fact, there was almost a calmness, a familiarity in the idea of a new suffix (safety in what she knew). what the deputy still could not prepare herself for was the uncertainty of what awaited in the dark once she stepped into the moonlight and closed her eyes.
she wondered how much cosmos-streak knew of what awaited her. as medicine cat he convened with starclan far more often than she ever had, and it was hardly his obligation to report anything of those meetings back unless he felt it necessary (such interesting privilege in death). it nagged at the back of her mind like a slowly unraveling thread, the thought that the tom might have answers to her questions, that they could be that close to her even in this moment. she didn’t realize how much she’d slowed, her pawsteps treating the cool grass as if it were mud from the marshes (glued, anchored). it was with a creeping, aching pace that tidebreak finally made her way to the foot of highstones, where a black cave mouth opened before her into the place she knew the moonstone was tucked away waiting.
the russet she-cat turned to look at her companion, stoic, head held high. cosmos-streak would not follow her further on this journey. for the first time, she alone would convene with her ancestors. she alone would enter that mystical place that starclan resided within (surely). what she would find there she could only hope was for the best, was what was right, was the answers she desired. locking eyes with cosmos-streak, she dipped her head to him in recognition, in respect. “thank you for accompanying me,” half murmured, “i hope we will be able to find peace.” the words carried an ache with them (hope truly was a heavy burden). peace, answers, closure, the things her clan needed most at the moment, and ones she alone couldn’t give. part of her wished she could continue delaying this moment, put it off longer and longer without consequence, but tidebreak understood her duty. closing her eyes, the she-cat passed through the dark threshold and into the cavern where the moonstone awaited her.
as she walked, slow pawstep after slow pawstep, she allowed herself to blink open her eyes (come to terms with reality). it was dark all around her, wide and open, yet everything shone with a cool light from within. she could see it, the moonstone, from what felt like a mile away despite being mere tail lengths. she wondered if others before her had felt excitement in this moment, or just the fear and uncertainty that coursed through her veins now. she knew it was scary, she knew she might not get what she hoped for, but she also knew it was right (hoped, yet again). and so, with the most hesitation the deputy had ever felt, she stumbled forward and pressed her nose against the cool crystalline surface, closing her eyes and praying for a miracle.

tidebreak couldn’t decipher whether it had been a mere moment or days on end before she could open her eyes once more. she wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, perhaps serene starry fields trailing on into forever, or a wide and sprawling forest with the shimmering forms of her ancestors dancing through the trees (some whimsy seemed apt in the situation). instead, the she-cat was merely met with darkness, stretching outward in every direction, seemingly without end. there was no end or beginning, no land, no sky, no boundaries to this darkness. all there was within this world was a soft fog, giving off the slightest glow not unlike the moonstone (surely important in some way). slowly drawing in a deep breath, the russet she-cat took a step forward (whatever forward meant in this place) and was met with a sensation she had never experienced, one she could hardly describe. it was as if the air itself was thick, resistant, heavy, immovable. she found herself unwilling to press onward and instead just sat, tucking her tail neatly across her paws, head high and alert for any sign of, well… anything.
after waiting, watching, feeling the fog creep and fold around her (confused, confused, she hated confused), there was finally a flash of movement in the corner of her eye as the fog dissipated into a mist that covered everything at paw level, glowing ever brighter as a figure emerged out of the darkness. it was one she knew well, a cat with a pelt that could be mistaken for a flame from this distance if you didn’t know better (the same flame as her). Each pawstep closer the cat got, the more tidebreak could feel a lump growing in her throat, choking her, willing her to tear her paws from the mysterious hold they were in and run far, far away. There were so many unspoken words that weighed down this space between them, and that was not what she had come here for.
finally the approaching she-cat slowed, then stopped, sitting down across from tidebreak at a respectful distance yet still close enough to converse. tidebreak’s chest rose, then fell with a heavy breath (everything, heavy), and she realized just how much this moment felt like looking at a reflection of herself in still water. the posture, the gait, the build, the burning russet fur. the deputy, of course, only carried the color in her chest, along her cheekbones, whereas the she-cat across from her was that violent reddish hue from nearly nose to tail tip. a color so vibrant that there was no escaping its inheritance (not even in death, apparently).
“hello, pet.” tidebreak made sure to show no emotion as she spoke, though it was important to her to speak first, to acknowledge the moment. she had almost entirely forgotten the reason she’d even come here, the reason she’d meant to convene with starclan in the first place. everything happening was all so odd, so unexpected, and it threw her off guard (never, don’t be distracted). the single word was met by a laugh from the she-cat across from her, soft and low as it echoed through the darkness. once the sound faded, tidebreak found herself staring straight into that reflection, the cat so like her but unlike her, and a pair of silver-grey eyes. “oh tidebreak, it was always so funny to me that you refused to call me mother, yet referred to me by the silly nickname my siblings were always using. that you had to focus on your work as a warrior and having a mother around was too burdensome for you, but deep down you still cared about me enough that you couldn’t actually call me by my warrior name. such a funny conundrum.” her mother smiled at her, and tidebreak’s entire body tensed (she doesn’t belong here, she does, she should, no, not).
“do you hate me, tidebreak?” no, of course not. how could she hate her mother? perhaps when she was younger she’d hated the way the she-cat treated her as if she were a child, always treading so softly, hiding the harsh edges and cruel realities of the world under endless optimism and sweet words. how could she have been expected to make it to where she was now, to a clan leader, with a mother who treated her like that (she couldn’t, never)? “i know that you don’t, my darling. i’ve been with you every moment of your life.” it was bold of petalblaze to make those assumptions, even if they were true, but tidebreak couldn’t help but wonder if her mother was perhaps there only to speak facts. she had not made a move to approach tidebreak any further, was not trying to come closer and give her the love and affection she so often had forced upon her daughter even as she grew older and was pushed away. this was a version of her mother she was unsure of, one who merely watched her and pulled strings of truth from deep within her (unraveling, unraveling, stop it, stop).
“you hear the voice in your head, don’t you?” tidebreak was so taken aback by the question that her head snapped up, locking eyes with petalblaze, the wind knocked out of her. how did her mother know about that little secondary voice in the back of her mind (me) that existed to narrate her thoughts, provide opinions, second guess herself? “how do you know that?” her voice was hardly a whisper, and for the first time in a very long time, tidebreak felt herself craving her mother’s voice more than any other (me, me, me). “i used to hear it too. you saved me from that, from those thoughts, and i tried so hard to stop it from happening to you. i could tell when i failed.” there was a sound of sadness, defeat in the vibrant she-cat’s tone, one so foreign to her, and tidebreak knew she was telling the truth.
“thank you, mother.” tidebreak couldn’t help that she sounded so formal and matter of fact, it was merely the way in which she knew to speak. “for trying. for caring for me. for never giving up even when i pushed you away. i thought i was being strong, but i was also hiding my weaknesses. i do not hate you. i never have. i’m sorry things could not have been different.” the two she-cats stayed as they were, neither moving. shimmering tears formed in the corners of petalblaze’s eyes, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. her daughter, in the rarest of moments, caught herself smiling as well.
“not many get the privilege of closure after death,” petalblaze sighed, “but we must move on. we’re here for a different reason, aren’t we daughter?” tidebreak blinked the rosy fog out of her eyes, remembering the moonstone, cosmos-streak, their journey. remembering sootstar, and riverclan. “is this really starclan?” for some reason, it was the first question that fell unfiltered from her mouth, the one that had been sitting on the tip of her tongue since she first opened her eyes to this darkness, the rippling feeling of the mysterious fog. “all of starclan?” petalblaze laughed again, such a light, peaceful sound. “of course not. this is merely a passageway of sorts, a stop along the way from one destination to another, yet also a waypoint which you can access through the moonstone.” tidebreak frowned. she’d learned many strange facts about starclan in her lifetime, through journeys and prophecies and circumstances each clan had endured in turn, yet somehow this one seemed particularly ridiculous and foreign to her. “daughter, i’m sorry this is not the ceremony you deserve, the welcome that starclan wishes to give you, but these are unprecedented times for us just as they are for you. some things must be adjusted, and some things must be sacrificed.”
some things must be sacrificed. tidebreak had told herself that no matter what happened in her meeting with starclan, she would hold her composure, yet she could feel the cracks beginning. already her clan was facing perhaps the greatest fear and hardship it had ever faced, and was she now supposed to believe that starclan was not solemnly watching over them, guiding, offering assistance, as the clan cats were meant to believe? perhaps it was merely that, a belief, if not truth, but how could she shake the feeling of this empty, dark place off of her and attempt to play into the fallacy of what so many clan cats believed? it was for their sake, for the sake of her clan always, but this could not be right, could it?
“stop thinking so hard, you’ll hurt yourself.” the familiar voice sent a rush of warmth through tidebreak, and she turned to see the figure of tornwing wading through the mist behind her mother. her uncle, the only other family she had so far as she was concerned. the she-cat wondered curiously why she hadn’t expected to see him here, given she’d witnessed his death herself. for that she was lucky, knowing the old tom had passed peacefully onto starclan, as opposed to whatever unknown fate befell so many of her clanmates. the tom slowly sat down next to petalblaze, and the difference in their appearance was almost comical to tidebreak. it was nice to be reminded that the genes within her belonging to her traitorous grandmother weren’t as far reaching as she often imagined them.
“it is nice to see you, tornwing.” in this, tidebreak allowed herself a smile. though her closeness to the tabby tom had only come later in life, after her mother’s death, she still held him dearly in her heart in a way she doubted she would ever feel about any other cat. in a way she now saw paralleled her relationship with petalblaze, the two were both similar and so, so different. tidebreak had always fought to be so dependable, to fit the mold of what she needed to be for her clan’s sake. tornwing, on the other hand, was always a wildcard. dependable in his own right, when you needed him most, but acted on his own tumultuous thoughts and emotions in order to survive. they helped each other form some sort of delicate balance, in a way that somehow made sense to her, that somehow she needed.
“i’ll give it to you straight, kid, because i know that’s how you want it.” tornwing looked her square on, serious, then winked. “and because i know pet won't do it right.” tidebreak glanced at her mother, who rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and shoved her brother with a playful paw. somehow she’d never thought of the two of them as close, but then again, the deputy hadn’t been privy to so much of their lives. they were two entities who were just as much a mystery to her as they were a loving, familiar pair. she felt relief begin to calm her nerves, the former growing panic dissipating. she was glad that of any cats, it was these two that met her here.
“i’m sorry that this ceremony might be a little bit of a… bumpy ride,” tornwing chuckled quietly at his joke, “but you wouldn’t be here if we thought you weren’t ready for it.” the tom rose and took a few pawsteps closer to tidebreak, the closest she’d been to her family yet, and as he did so, the faintest outlines of a starry river cut through the mist, a set of reeds fading in and out of view just along the edge of the blackness. it was as if riverclan were willing itself to be present in the moment. “normally, each of your lives would be gifted to you by a different member of starclan, but that isn’t possible right now. we’ve decided it would be best if the two of us came in place of those who couldn’t, and present you with all of your new lives.” once again, tidebreak couldn’t help but feel uneasy at what seemed like a very odd and unsettling statement about some irregularities in starclan, but she knew at this point there was no interrupting, no going back. she knew that something had begun. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath of cool air, and after she let the silence hang in the air for just a moment too long, she opened her pale eyes to look at tornwing again.
“the first life we’d like to present you with comes from heatherstar. she wishes you the gift of resilience, to continue and serve your clan even in the most difficult hours.” tornwing nodded toward her, and she in return, a rush of cool air enveloping her and jolting her senses. she thought of riverclan’s former leader she’d known as a younger warrior, and how hard she’d fought in her final days. hers were respectable pawsteps to follow in. as tidebreak’s fur settled once more, petalblaze stepped forward and past tornwing, circling behind her daughter before sitting in the shimmering mist once more. tidebreak was forced to look over her shoulder and away from tornwing to focus on her mother, a peculiar position to be sitting in, yet one she assumed the she-cat had purposefully brought about for some silly reason or another.
petalblaze smiled as her gaze met tidebreak’s, and the deputy could almost feel the air crackling with anticipation. “the second life we will be presenting you with comes from whorlmist.” the deputy froze. for the amount of times she found her mind wandering to thoughts of her grandmother, a she-cat she hardly even knew, it was rare to let her actual name come to mind. that she-cat was one she associated with every negative thought she had, every moment of self doubt and loathing, every little passing feeling of hatred or betrayal. she knew, logically, it was wrong to hold the old she-cat in such regards. yes, she’d broken the warrior code and done something that hurt her family for generations beyond, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love that family wholeheartedly. tidebreak had never given her a chance, and she knew that, and she wouldn’t deny it. it was a weakness, a dark spot on her record, but if she had to have one bad reflection looking back on her life, she was willing to let it be this.
“i know it’s hard, my sweet,” petalblaze murmured, soft enough so that only tidebreak could hear, “but there’s not much my mother has left to give, and she believes you deserving of it. with this second life, she gives you forgiveness.” tidebreak felt her fur bristle. forgiveness? was this a test, a joke? she could accept a gift, a life, from heatherstar, could work to be like the leader before her. but to accept this life from her grandmother seemed cruel. “forgiveness,” tidebreak was startled when she realized her mother was not finished talking, “not only of others, but for yourself.” this life hit with the same cool rush, but it was not invigorating, energetic. it felt almost heavy, and a tear rolled down tidebreak’s cheek. forgiveness for herself? perhaps she did need to treat herself with more kindness, and in the same moment, think upon how she was hurting herself by not forgiving others in her life. perhaps that was part of being leader.
“alright, back over here,” tornwing quipped, and tidebreak turned forward once more to face her uncle. annoying of the two cats to sit on opposite sides of her but, well, she didn’t feel she had time to confront them about it. feeling almost fatigued over the stark contrast between heatherstar’s life and whorlmist’s, the deputy wasn’t sure how she was meant to endure the rest of this ceremony. it truly was testing that resilience heatherstar had given her. “your third life comes from frogleap.” the tabby tom looked around, as if he was expecting the little dusty colored tom to appear from the darkness at any moment. tidebreak remembered him so fondly, the young tom that was always so…. quirky. an apprentice of hers that was always coming up with wild schemes and scatterbrained ideas, that was just shy of becoming a warrior when he decided it would be an interesting idea to climb as high a tree as he could and jump into the river. thus he was given an honorary warrior name, and tidebreak remembered how silly that was, and how curious it seemed that in that case in particular, she hadn’t felt like a failure. she’d had a rough go at it as far as mentoring went, but in that case, she almost felt successful despite the tom’s death. only briefly, she flashed a small smile at tornwing as she remembered a wide-eyed frogpaw’s face. “with this life, you’re given the gift of curiosity. never stop looking for new ways to approach a situation.”
this life felt like laughter as it filled her body, and she could feel the shy smile on her face widen into a full grin. so uncharacteristic, so strange a gesture, but she would let it happen. after a moment of bliss, tidebreak looked back over her shoulder at her mother, picking up on this back and forth situation that seemed to be happening. the moments of silence between petalblaze and tornwing speaking were deafening, but the deputy had started to feel herself buzzing with anticipation as much as she was feeling a creeping dread. which one of them would call the name she knew was coming? “your fourth life comes from natureheart,” chimed petalblaze, noticeably more upbeat about awarding this life than she was the last. “with this life we gift you knowledge, and may you never lose faith in what you know to be true.” in a way, tidebreak found this life to be oddly in opposition to the third life she’d been given. she almost felt like with each life gifted, tornwing and petalblaze were bouncing her back and forth. was there a reason for this?
now understanding how it worked, tidebreak whipped around to face her uncle, eyes squinting in suspicion. he merely laughed at her, clearly much better at poking fun at her and pushing her buttons now that he was in starclan. it made sense to her, that being here and free of the torments and traumas his life had brought him would also come with some degree of peace. that carefully curated trauma, however, was part of what had drawn her to him. they both had things to be angry about, but she didn’t have to tell anyone else but him. and now he was gone. “you can still tell me about everything. why do you think i’m here?” tidebreak continued to be taken aback by how the two of them seemed so able to read her mind, but realized it perhaps wasn’t some supernatural power they posessed through starclan and rather that these were just two cats who knew how to read her better than anyone else. “i’m scared.” she could barely whisper the words, but if tornwing insisted, that was all she could think to tell him. all she felt. the tom stepped forward, pressed his nose to her forehead, and sighed. it was a gesture she never would have expected from him in life, and one that felt both ominous and confusing in this context.
“your fifth life comes from me, tidebreak, and i want you to listen closely.” the deputy looked at tornwing with glistening eyes, knowing in her heart, feeling, that he was about to disappear, like she was about to lose him again. she knew this was an important thing for her to do, that she had to go through this, but it was a ceremony full of anguish nonetheless. “with this life i give you clarity. it was something i had to fight endlessly for, and i wish that your search for it may be an easy one.” she smiled at the tom, knowing how much the words meant coming from him, and behind her smile knowing how much clarity she herself still sought. in the brief moment she lost track of her thoughts, tidebreak missed her mother deftly creeping around her and sitting down next to tornwing once more with a wide, sad smile on her face. it was so rare to see her look sad, and the deputy felt oddly small, as if she were a kit again.
“you’re miraculous, you know?" tidebreak had always hated the silly compliments from petalblaze, the praises, but now she drank them all in. “you’ve fought so hard and you’ve finally made it to this point. i would never have expected less of you, not with all your endless determination.” the smaller, russet she-cat stepped forward, but just this once tidebreak had already moved toward her as well, embracing, heads against each other. “you’re the thing i am most proud of in this world, my greatest love.” tidebreak smiled shyly and found herself once again feeling so young, so small. “with this final life, i give you family. you have so much of it, by blood, by choice, and by clan. fight for them and care for them, no matter what.”
as petalblaze finished speaking, a silence fell over the three cats, and the glowing mist seemed to consume them once more. it hung there, no one speaking, no one reflecting on what was glaringly out of place. finally, after slightly too long, tidebreak stepped back, eyes wide. “sootstar.” she received no response, turning back and forth between her companions who had moments before been so chatty. “sootstar did not come here. he did not give me a life. is he alive? if he is i should not be taking his place!” there was an edge to her voice, former panic returning as she realized the thing she wanted to know most coming into this night still had not been answered. her fur bristled as the fog swirled around her paws, mimicking her agitation, and tornwing caught her gaze in his.
“sootstar is alive.” every fiber of tidebreak’s body froze, her breath catching in her throat. “but the situation is a little bit more complex than would be ideal. i know how straightforward you like things, cut and dry, follow the rules and the plan and everything works out in the end, right?” petalblaze sighed, annoyed at tornwing’s tone. “it would be difficult for us to try and explain every detail of the situation, but know that starclan faces many challenges alongside you. the twolegs, they are taking the cats to a place we don’t know of, a place we cannot see. the reason it feels so empty is because we have become so widespread in searching for those who are lost. we are trying so hard to help you. but do not doubt that you are meant to be leader of riverclan.”
“it was sootstar’s last wish before he disappeared from starclan’s sight,” tornwing sighed, “the leader i knew in the end would not have given up unless he knew he couldn’t win, and he knew to do what was right in revoking his leadership. he trusted you and wanted you to have his lives. it was unfortunate that starclan was only able to take back six of those lives before he vanished, but i trust you’ll use them wisely.” somehow, it hadn’t even crossed tidebreak’s mind that she’d only been given six lives instead of nine. that seemed so insignificant amongst everything that had happened, so small that she almost didn’t care. sure, it would matter later, when she was back amongst the clan, back in danger, back when she had to treasure the lives she’d generously been given for the good of her clan. but now? she just wanted to be here, with her family, and find peace in the answers to the questions that had been eating her alive.
petalblaze turned to tornwing, chuckled, then grinned at her daughter. “i suppose this is the part where we welcome you as tidestar.” tidestar. it felt good. “things are hard, for us all. but you are never alone. we love you, we are watching over you, and you have a good clan to support you. protect them. fight for them. and fight for yourself.” tidestar could feel the two cats fading before they rose to their paws, and she felt tears in her eyes. she stood, but she knew it was time. time to say goodbye, because she’d already been given more time with them than she deserved, than most cats would ever get with family they’d lost. time to say goodbye because she had a clan to return to, waiting for a leader and for answers. tornwing left first, flicking his tail and nodding at her in goodbye, and she dipped her head at him. petalblaze turned to follow as the mist thickened into an all consuming fog once more, but paused to look back one last time. “i love you, tidestar, always, forever. if you ever need me, just listen, and i’ll be there.” with the heartfelt sentiment, her mother vanished, and with a violent rush the fog swallowed tidestar whole.

the russet-gray she-cat knew instantly that she was back in the real world, so to speak. she found herself lying in front of the moonstone, as if her body had given out from exhaustion and she’d collapsed. everything felt brighter, lighter, sharper here. the space she’d entered in starclan felt so hazy and heavy, like a half forgotten dream (she’d never forget). but she was back (the voice too, ha), and she knew what she had to do (hello, mother). at least, she had an idea, was forging a plan, was ready to move forward. rising to her feet, tidestar turned to face the cave entrance where the night sky was slowly preparing to welcome dawn. she was not the same cat who had entered this cave, nor did she imagine things would ever be quite the same after what she learned. she smiled ever so gently (just once, an after effect) and with a deep breath, ran toward the cave entrance, and toward a new story.

for mentions:
✦dreamy
[:ripples:]
Eppy
DELAWARE (correct me if natureheart wasn't assumed dead lol)