The sun was just appearing on the horizon as two kits were born. The first one, with dark fur the color of the night sky was born just before the first ray of light reached the DuskClan camp. The second, with light brown fur was born moments later, the golden sunlight shining on her still-wet fur. An omen, the clan whispered. Perhaps these were the kits they were waiting for.

"Black," whispered the mother, lightly touching the kit with her tail. "After his dark fur, and as a reminder that eventually the day has to give in to the night."

"And the second one?" asked the medicine cat, Sagewing.

"Bright," the mother continued. "Because the night must also yield to the day, and a new dawn is coming. And perhaps together they will bring balance to the stars."

Those had been the queen's last words, and the clan mourned the rogue that had came to their camp, the rogue that had never told them her name. The rogue that had given birth to two kits and had never gotten to see them open their eyes. The clan agreed to raise the kits as best as they could, as warriors. And so Blackkit and Brightkit were born.

They soon became apprentices, Blackpaw and Brightpaw, and the whole clan were convinced they would be the cats of the prophecy. Blackpaw was quieter than his sister, yet was already a great hunter. Brightpaw was a ball of constant energy, which came useful in a battle, but not so much in hunting. Surprisingly, they didn't spend much time together, and were often fighting. Brightpaw was easily one of the most stubborn cats in the clan, and Blackpaw was the quiet shadow to her loud sunshine, always dependable, and just as stubborn.

Soon enough, they were warriors. Blackshadow and Brightshine stood proudly in the blinding sunlight at their ceremony, and just as proud in the glistening moonlight at the next gathering. Polar opposites, it seemed fitting. And DuskClan were proud too, of their new warriors, born of a rogue, yet just as good as any clan-born warrior. And they hoped that the dark and the light would indeed restore the balance to the stars.

The dark and the light would indeed restore balance to the stars, but this was not that day. Moons after they became warriors, battle was on the horizon with BlazingClan growing stronger than ever. The light and the dark were sent into battle with the hope the stars would balance. But it was not that day, and DuskClan came home with wounds and three bodies. Blackshadow had been killed with a gash to the throat, spilling red blood on the sunlit rocks. Brightshine had been cornered in the shadows, and she didn't see her attacker until it was too late, more blood on the ground. And the third cat, Birchheart had gone after Brightshine's killer, vowing revenge for her best friend. Instead she got a broken neck.

The clan retreated quickly, their hopes shattered. Who would restore the balance to the stars now?

Mistkit and Lilykit were not born at sunrise. There was no dramatic birth just as the first ray of sunlight pierced the clearing. They were born in the evening, not at nightfall, but simply in the evening. They were not the kits of a rogue that didn't tell the clan her name, but of a queen named Roseflight. Their mother did not have the time to name them before she died, and she did not talk about stars or balance. Her last words were: "Take care of them."

And so the clan took care of them, remembering the last time a queen had died giving birth in their camp. It had happened twelve moons ago, and yet it seemed like moments ago. Cindertail, whose kits had died less than a moon ago raised them.

Mistkit and Lilykit were normal kits, but there were times when the clan was uncertain of that. Lilykit opened her eyes at moonhigh, while Mistkit opened hers at dawn. Often, Ravenshine, who had mentored Blackshadow froze when she saw Mistkit, her black fur so much like his, until she turned and looked at Ravenshine, her green eyes meeting Ravenshine's. Ravenshine would remind herself that Blackshadow had blue eyes, unable to get the image of black fur splattered in blood and the blue eyes clouded out of her head.

Berrypelt had mentored Brightshine, and with Lilykit's pale brown fur and light blue eyes, he had to glance at Lilykit's white spot on her leg to make sure it wasn't Brightshine. His dreams were filled with light brown fur and drops of blood, a once cheerful life taken with one blow.

Three lives had been taken in the course of one day. Three more stars added to the night sky. Three less warriors in DuskClan. In the clan's mind, BlazingClan had a lot to pay for. "An eye for an eye," the elders say.

"An eye for an eye and all the clans go blind," Hollystar says. But this was not about eyes. This was about how three lives had been cruelly ripped away for the sake of a battle no one had wanted. This was not just about revenge, though many cats wanted it. This was about the stars going out, the clan's hope waning as the stars unbalanced further. This was about hope being lost and the prophecy never being fulfilled.

The clan sometimes wondered if they had been mistaken, if Blackshadow and Brightshine hadn't been the cats in the prophecy. Many cats thought Hollystar was the dark and Dawnflight the light, though nothing changed. Only one cat thought Lilykit and Mistkit were the kits of the prophecy. That cat was convinced Lilykit was the dark and Mistkit was the light, but no one agreed with her. "I mean, Lilykit opened her eyes at moonhigh and Mistkit at dawn!" No one paid attention to her. And perhaps she was right, but no one would know, for she soon died, and her theory died with her.

Sagewing, the medicine cat that had been too late to save Blackshadow and Brightshine and Birchheart looked out her den one night as she heard a rustle. Sitting just outside of camp, in the small clearing out of sight of the cats on watch, sat a kit staring at the sky. And as Sagewing went back to her nest, she dreamed of the kit that gazed at the stars. The kit that was one with the night, and the night that was one with her.