"What three qualities make a DarkClan leader?"

Nightpaw's eyes shifted between his leader and his mentor, noticing how calmly they held themselves. Then, his gaze settled on the figure sitting across from them - that of Sprucetail. Her shoulders, tense, made her fur rise to a bristle, and her tail tip twitched with every word spoken.

The deputy candidate hesitated before answering and Nightpaw caught Dawnstar narrowing her eyes. Sprucetail was the last to be interviewed by the leader and truth-teller, and her answer would decide whether or not she went on to the final round of the deputy race.

"Ambition, cunning, and fearlessness," she finally said, black tail moving.

"Interesting choices, but a good answer," Dawnstar commented, keeping her amber gaze level. Sprucetail's eyes moved about the leader's den, unable to keep her interviewer's stare. The only candidate to have done so was Spiderthorn, appearing unafraid of both the leader and truth-teller.

"That is all for now," Hailwatcher told the black she-cat. Sprucetail shot to her paws, bowing her head quickly before exiting the den as quickly as she could. Nightpaw watched her go, wondering if she really believed in the answers she gave.

"She wouldn't make it as a deputy," Hailwatcher said immediately. "Jumpy, afraid, uncharismatic - how would she ever be a leader if it came to that?"

Dawnstar nodded. "While DarkClan does have a reputation to uphold, with the leader keeping a tight reign over it, I think she's a better choice than Oakshade."

Nightpaw's ears pricked at Dawnstar's admission. They jumped up even further at Hailwatcher's question.

"What do you think, Nightpaw?"

Two sets of cold eyes turned to him and the apprentice willed himself to stay calm under their stares. Why would they possibly ask him for his opinion?

"You're the next in line for the position of truth-teller," Dawnstar said, as if hearing his unasked question. "It's only natural we would ask you for your input. We don't keep you around just for sport." Something about the way she spoke made Nightpaw uncomfortable, but he pushed it aside.

"I think Sprucetail is a better choice than Oakshade as well," he replied, discomfort filling him as he searched for qualities that DarkClan approved of. "She is the Clan's best hunter, as Sleetfur pointed out during the mating council, and her fighting skills must be on par if she was able to kill Marshclaw in the first round of battle. She showed no second thought when she did so either."

"The heat of the moment is much different than the aftermath," Hailwatcher growled quietly.

Nightpaw's fur pricked, but he maintained his position. "Though she did show shock after the kill, she has not let it come between her duties to the Clan. Though leafbare grows more and more cold, she still brings in freshkill every day."

"Why not Oakshade?" Dawnstar cut in, glancing between the two truth-tellers.

"Oakshade is much better in terms of fighting and leadership," Hailwatcher responded immediately. "More confident, more courageous. He's clearly a better choice."

Nightpaw shook his head, suddenly very aware of the danger in his stance against his mentor. "Oakshade may be more skilled a fighter and leader, but he gets distracted easily. During the first battle round, he could barely handle fighting both Flintmask and Spiderthorn at the same time, even though they themselves had their attentions split."

"Oakshade has been increasingly distracted since the pairings were announced," Dawnstar added. "Perhaps a deputy candidate in heat is not the smartest choice?"

An image of Sprucetail and Thistleshade shot into his mind suddenly, and an odd thought struck Nightpaw "What if Thistleshade is purposely manipulating Oakshade so that her littermate is able to continue on in the deputy race?"

Both the leader and truth-teller turned to him abruptly. He shrank back slightly from their alarmed, curious gazes.

"Curious," Dawnstar said, eyeing the apprentice contemplatively. "Observant too, clearly."

Hailwatcher narrowed his eyes as Nightpaw looked to him. "Curious is right. Observant, however..." Nightpaw's fur bristled at his mentor's insinuation of weakness.

Dawnstar glanced between the truth-teller and his apprentice, flicking her ear dismissively.

"Sprucetail it is then," she decided. "We'll watch Oakshade and Thistleshade closely to make sure Oakshade's distraction isn't too deeply engrained."

A prickle of guilt filled Nightpaw, making him wish he had kept his mouth shut.

//

"Nightpaw, pay attention!"

The irritated voice of Flamepaw snapped him back to reality. Turning to his littermates, he was suddenly reminded of their time as kits and how he would often drift off into his own world as the three of them played. Back then, he had dreamt of DarkClan's history and the chance to know as much as he could; now, he didn't know if he wanted to be part of any of it. He felt different, on edge.

"We're here to train, not stand around and contemplate life," Flamepaw said brusquely, already lowering himself into his fighting stance. "Just because there are no mentors with us doesn't mean we can just brush our duties aside and fool around."

Nightpaw stared at his littermate, annoyed by his comment. For all Flamepaw knew, his thoughts concerned the Clan and his part in it. The unbalanced feeling grew, the edge coming closer.

Cinderpaw flicked her tail to keep the peace. "Flamepaw's right, we all need practice," she mewed.

"Especially Nightpaw over here," Flamepaw snorted, tail twitching impatiently. "So are you going to get into your fighting stance, or do you plan on being useless for the rest of your life?"

The black tom growled deep in his throat, Flamepaw's taunt pushing him over the looming edge. Already angered by Hailwatcher's comments, Flamepaw's only fuelled it further.

"Perhaps I'd rather be weak physically than mentally," Nightpaw hissed back. He heard Cinderpaw's sharp intake of breath and Flamepaw's outraged growl, but the rest became a blur as he leaped.

The haze before his eyes returned, turning everything around him an unearthly shade of red. He slashed and clawed and twisted and turned, his opponent's dodges and counter-attacks meaning nothing. He did not feel the claws scoring his back; he did not feel the teeth in his scruff; he did not feel the pounding of his heart; he did not feel anything.

"Nightpaw!" Cinderpaw's alarmed mew cut through and the tom halted, blinking a couple of times before the fogginess receded. Looking to the she-cat, he found her stepping away from him, fear in her eyes.

"Was that really necessary?" Flamepaw's hiss came from his right and Nightpaw turned to see the tom's ginger fur matted with blood. The left side of his face was darker, a single claw line stretching from his ear to his jawline.

I did that? All Nightpaw could do was stare at the scar, uneasiness filling his stomach. It seemed so easy to lose control.

"Was whatever you were distracted by really that important? That it warrants a scar from my own littermate?" Nightpaw recognized the hurt in Flamepaw's voice, even in its subtlety. He swallowed, wondering if he could tell the tom about StarClan and his mission.

"Is there something bothering you?" Cinderpaw asked quietly, stepping between the two toms. Always the peacemaker, she lay her tail across Flamepaw's shoulders gently while gently coaxing Nightpaw to speak.

The black tom searched Flamepaw's face, for the first time noticing the weariness in his eyes and the tense set of his shoulders. Could it be that Flamepaw, too, felt the pressures of living in DarkClan? Did Flamepaw also have something to hide, a quality that didn't align with DarkClan's expectations? Something that caused him to be jealous of his position as truth-teller's apprentice?

He remembered holding out on Cinderpaw and the pain it caused both of them. Mothpaw and Wrenpaw, too, should have known about his struggles earlier. Yet, in withholding information, Nightpaw intentions were only to keep them safe. With Flamepaw, he did not feel the need to protect. Wherever Flamepaw's weariness came from, it wasn't outwardly apparent like it was with the other apprentices.

"I... I recently found out that Spiderthorn is our father," he replied, knowing he would need to pacify the ginger tom with something. The surprise on both his littermates' faces startled him.

"Spiderthorn?" Flamepaw's face lit up with awe, though he seemed skeptical at the validity of Nightpaw's statement.

Cinderpaw shifted uncomfortably. "I did always think you two and Spiderthorn looked alike." She nodded towards Nightpaw's dark pelt and Flamepaw's muscled build.

"Then where did you come from?" Flamepaw asked, nudging Cinderpaw.

"We have a mother too, you know," Cinderpaw replied. Nightpaw promptly found himself the centre of attention.

He shuffled his paws. "That's the thing, I don't know who it was. I've been trying to figure it out but everywhere I look there's an obstacle. As the next truth-teller, I should know everyone's lineage, especially my own."

"Ask Hailwatcher," Flamepaw said bluntly.

"I have," Nightpaw replied defensively. "He got angry and wouldn't tell me."

"Do you think..." Cinderpaw's voice carried the same dread that hit Nightpaw in that moment.

"That our mother was a traitor to DarkClan?" he finished for her. She stared at him, hazel eyes pools of fear. Nightpaw had to admit it seemed like the only option - why else would Hailwatcher not tell him about his own lineage?

"I think we should stop thinking about this," Flamepaw cut in, voice decisive. "If she was a traitor, fine, we'll just have to prove that we're not. And if she wasn't, then even better."

Nightpaw blinked at his littermate, a deep burn uncoiling in his stomach. "How can you say that?" he spat. "Without her, you wouldn't even be here!"

Flamepaw eyed the black tom distastefully. "I'm aware of that. But I have bigger things on my mind, and you should too."

With that, the ginger apprentice stalked off in the direction of camp, leaving Nightpaw in a whirling state of confusion.

By the time the littermates reached camp, Nightpaw was no less bewildered by the events of the day. His obsessive thoughts continued to swirl about his head, tinged by his anger at Flamepaw's refusal to acknowledge them. He remembered the haze and how he threw himself at the tom; the guilt of attacking him weighed the apprentice down most of all.

Flamepaw did not spare him a second glance as they entered the camp clearing and Cinderpaw only gave a quick nod before joining Smoketalon, who watched her with the same predatory look Nightpaw noticed on the day of the ceremony. Struggling to keep his fur flat and pounding heart quiet, he went off in search of his own mentor.

He found Hailwatcher speaking with Dawnstar in the truth-teller's den, the air between them charged. They faced each other, heads held high, neither backing down from the other. Nightpaw hesitated, unsure of whether he should interrupt their heated conversation.

"Nightpaw." Dawnstar made the decision for him. "We were just about to go out and look for you. Hailwatcher here suggests that you should pick out the prisoners for the final round of battle."

The apprentice's eyes widened. "Why me?"

Hailwatcher snorted. "You're the next truth-teller. It's about time you started taking on some more of the truth-teller's duties." He did not look at Nightpaw as he spoke.

Dawnstar nodded. "If that is your wish, fine. I'll send Nightpaw out with one of the border patrols." With a whisk of her speckled tail, the DarkClan leader exited the log den.

Nightpaw moved to follow, but Hailwatcher's voice called him back.

"Pick prisoners that test the weaknesses of the candidates," he said. "Then, we'll know just how observant you are."

//

The wind blew bitingly cold over the empty expanse of land as the patrol travelled south from High Rocks. Nightpaw shivered, knowing the chills running through him had nothing to do with the weather.

The border patrol Dawnstar assigned him to consisted of Lionmask, Pigeonfang, Snailwhisker and Wrenpaw. The guardian took the lead, Pigeonfang beside him, with Nightpaw in the centre and the younger warrior and apprentice taking the rear. Even Wrenpaw's presence did little to calm the truth-teller's apprentice.

Blackstrike raised his head as they approached the prisoner cave, narrowing his eyes at the sight of Nightpaw.

"They've sent you for prisoners, haven't they?" he said almost gleefully. "I hope you take that one." His black tail flicked at a dark brown tabby below. Nightpaw avoided the tabby's insolent stare,  immediately aware of the similarities between him and Roxanne. He cursed himself for having forgotten about Roxanne's littermate in his obsession with everything else.

Yet, had she forgotten as well? She knew of her littermate's location, why hadn't she rescued him yet? A look at Blackstrike and Lionmask gave him his answer.

He shook his head. "No, not that one. He's not a suitable match for any of the candidates."

"I could take out your whole Clan if you let me out of here," the prisoner shouted up, flexing his claws. The prisoners around him shrank back, some shaking their heads at the tom's arrogance.

"I think he'd be a good match for Spiderthorn, personally," Blackstrike continued.

Nightpaw's mouth went dry. "No. Spiderthorn is used to frenzied strikes and is able to defeat his opponents because of his patience and ability to calculate their strikes. Pitting him against someone who is similar in that respect will provide more of a challenge." He let out a heavy breath, surprised at his own quick thinking.

Blackstrike didn't argue the apprentice's logic.

Nightpaw stepped forward so that his body cast a shadow over the cats in the prisoner cave. With widened eyes, he counted at least twelve cats in varying degrees of exhaustion and malnutrition. Even Roxanne's littermate, who arrived at the cave with a healthy sheen to his coat, looked smaller and less well looked after.

Bile rising into his throat, he nodded towards a rather large grey tom who sat in the corner of the cave, his head on his paws. He hardly acknowledged anyone else around him, but still held an air of superiority to the others. A smaller she-cat sat next to him, curling up even closer as Nightpaw's gaze washed over her. The grey tom did not so much as flick an ear.

"That one," Nightpaw said, nodding to the tom. "He'll be Spiderthorn's opponent." His stomach churned as the words came out of his mouth.

"And that ginger she-cat," he continued, pointing his tail at a she-cat with matted fur and scars along her sides and back. "She and Flintmask might have an interesting duel."

That left Sprucetail. What was Sprucetail's greatest weakness?

An image of the she-cat's shocked eyes entered his mind, the tortoiseshell body before her unmoving. Then, his eyes fell on a cowering tom far below. The caretaker's eyes widened as Nightpaw looked down at him.

Turning away from the cave, Nightpaw choked the words out. "Sedgecloud. Sprucetail can have him."

"You cowards!" the dark brown tabby yelled up at them. "My band will come for me and you will regret all of this!"

Nightpaw, shaking, turned back to Roxanne's littermate. "Yes, when" - he made sure to emphasize the word - "your band comes for you. But for now, you're alone. If you plan on making an example of us, I suggest you bide your time and plan wisely."

The prisoner's amber eyes showed only the slightest hint of surprise before they reverted to their usual insolent stare. Blackstrike snorted, but Nightpaw hardly payed attention to the tom. He felt drained by the decisions he had made and could only hope they would satisfy his mentor. As much as he wanted to pull away from DarkClan's cruel ways, he knew he would only put himself in danger if he did so now.

As his eyes met Wrenpaw's, he saw they mirrored the disgust he himself felt. He knew what she saw and, unable to stand the thought, he turned away from his copper reflection.

// Now that you know the prisoners the deputy candidates will be facing, have your predictions about the final round changed? Do you think Nightpaw should have chosen different prisoners or was he right in choosing ones who would impress his mentor?

I'm really excited to see what everyone thinks :3