one. a new star 

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

The silver-lit moon was hiding in the midnight sky. It was blanketed by thick tufts of black cloud, wishing to sleep with the rest of the forest. The trees turned from beautiful green species into tall, dark towers. Their branches hung over the cats, painting crooked tiger stripes onto the plain ground beneath them. It was a daunting night; a chill breeze marched through the tree leaves, forcing them to rattle and cry out in pain. Such a night would scare felines frightened by the dark but this tom didn't fear anything. He strode arrogantly down the paths spotted with the pawprints of his ancestors, walking as if he owned them. He kept on moving through the shadowed territory slickly, his mind concentrated on thing only: power. He was about to have his claws on the one thing he desired since he was kit. Nothing would get in his way.

"Mottlesplash, wait!" A she-cat's wail disrupted the tomcat's thinking. He blew out an exasperated sigh and halted for the slow feline behind him. She jogged up to his side, clearly out of breath, "You're so eager, won't you calm yourself?" She shot him a scolding glance with her two, amber-bullet eyes. "StarClan does not approve of impatient toms," she scowled.

Letting her words dance through him, Mottlesplash's focus was pulled down to her eyes. They were peculiar and didn't blend in well with the rest of her dark appearance. Sometimes they were as soft as the maple dripping from youthful trees and other times, they slumbered like two destructive fires. Tonight, he couldn't grasp the picture in her eyes. She simply looked up at him, her ambers falling into his greens.

Breaking the heavy silence, he grumbled, "You don't get places by waiting, Ravendust. You of all cats should know that." He trained his eyes ahead once again, plunging down the path to where his dreams lay. Excitement gripped his heart with iron claws. He was tantalizingly close; it was a mouse dangling right above his jaws. He couldn't wait any longer.

Mottlesplash charged forth, leaving his medicine cat behind in his dusty trail again. He scurried down a winding path, his legs being brushed by the bending undergrowth. He shoved the reeds out of his path. 

Twists and turns set his feet into motion until he reached the pool. Once he arrived, he gripped his claws into the sand and slid to a sudden stop. The breath in his lungs disappeared as his eyes studied the heaven-colored pond. The pool was unlike anything he had ever seen before. The water was unbelievably clear; he could see straight through it. Mottlesplash felt enthused he could see all of its flaws, straight down to its bottom. The moon pool held a supernatural blue hue; it was heavenly in sight. Light bubbled up from the center, enticing those to want to crawl towards it. One would be a slave if they were to take a drink. The faint breath of the wind swooped down to create shallow ripples in the water. Mottlesplash blinked, thinking the pool before him was imaginary. It wasn't.

Ravendust slid down beside him, smiling at his astonishment. She gave him a gentle nudge forward with her nose, "Go on." She looked at him fondly now, the tightly screwed bottle of her feelings cracking open and spilling out into her chest. Her heart became contaminated, intoxicated. Ignoring the fluttering chaos within, she added more softly, "You're going to make a great leader."

Mottlesplash didn't waste any more time. He lowered to his belly, the soft sand comforting his racing heart. He hovered over the vivid liquid, his reflection somehow not showing up below him. Anticipation itched in his veins as he dropped down his nose. It was finally time.

Like a ray of light being sucked into darkness, the mottled tom awoke instantly in a shadow. He panted, feeling his heart echo inside his chest, beating like a drum. Hot blooded anxiety pulsed through his veins, he felt more than alive. Mottlesplash swung his eyes in a full circle, soaking in the sights before him. He stood in a beam of light, so there wasn't much to see. He strained his eager eyes and under the blinding glow, he spotted shadowed figures stepping towards him. They marched onwards, synched in their soldier-like movements. His insides wriggled; oh StarClan! Here, leadership comes.

"Mottlesplash," A heavenly voice boomed across the range. At the call of his name, the tom turned his eyes and recognized the ghost at once. It was the old ThunderClan leader, the one who declared him deputy, the one who acted like the father he never had. "You've changed, son."

"For the better, I pray." Mottlesplash shot back arrogantly, raising his chin to meet the cat's ghostly gaze. He imagined how proud the old leader must be, to see him like this. Mottlesplash was not the weak warrior he once was. He was strong and commanding now, he believed he was what a true leader should be.

"For the worst." Another ghost replied. He floated beside the old leader, an unrelenting shine in his eyes. "Go back home and bring us a better leader." It was like a cluster of claws had pierced through his heart. Mottlesplash shook his head suddenly, his eyes darting from cat to cat. He could feel the anger surge beneath his fur, brewing like a tempest.

"I'm the best you have!" He shouted, spit sizzling from his trap. "It's me or nothing." The ghosts did not respond. They encaged him in a tightly knit circle, their judgmental eyes shimmering like galaxies. Even though they lived amongst the stars, they had a certain darkness about them; something the eyes could not see. The villains below seemed less subjective.

The leader repeated, "Bring us a better leader." He closed his eyes as an unspeakable force began to circle around him. It tugged at the edges of his skin and dragged him down into a dark abyss. Debris swept and swirled under his eyes- he could see everything. "Bring us Swiftshadow."

The warrior stirred from the dark haze with a sudden breath. His lungs expanded in his chest, filling him with life. Sweat clung to his frame and painted his coat in a darker shade than what it truly was. The vision he had just seen sent chills down his thin spine. StarClan rejected him. It felt like a bad dream, something that wasn't true- it couldn't be true. How could they want Swiftshadow? He was an amateur compared to Mottlesplash- His iron claws gripped into the sand. He wouldn't allow it.

Fury raged within Mottlesplash like an untamed forest fire. The fibers of his bones all caught to flames, and for once, he felt alive in wrath. Every cat who had wronged him and all of their bitter words were just embers to his fury. The truth stung like a burning coal; he wasn't going to be the leader. He had one life out of the nine he was supposed to be given.

Mottlesplash flattened his rising fur. He would ignore them. He had spent too much of his life waiting for this moment. He was not going to let it slip so easily. He was the leader whether StarClan approved it or not.

"Mottlesplash?"

He heard the medicine cat's call and grinned. "It's Mottlestar to you."