Another shriek echoed against the High Rocks and Nightpaw flattened his ears, attempting to concentrate on his boring task. Hailwatcher had assigned him to cleaning duties today, leaving the apprentice confined to camp while Birchfrost's kits arrived.

    Cedarheart had taken over the nursery, nervously twitching his tail to various herbs as Birchfrost writhed and shook in pain. Already, three snapped branches lay beside the labouring queen and she had no kits to show for it.

    On the other side of the camp, Bramblekit, Mothkit, Shadekit and Wrenkit practiced some battle moves Cinderpaw and Cherrypaw taught them, pausing every now and then to glance at the den they had been displaced from. Sedgecloud and Maplefeather watched them carefully, while Snowdapple ran to and fro across the camp, grabbing herbs from the healer's storage at Cedarheart's request.

    Not for the first time that day, Nightpaw wondered who fathered Birchfrost's kits. He himself did not remember his own mother and, though he had his suspicions, did not know his father either. Very few members of DarkClan knew their birth parents; it was more likely for them to remember the caretakers who raised them.

    Another cry from the nursery startled him and, deciding he could not listen to Birchfrost's yowls for a moment longer, Nightpaw headed for the forest to collect moss. Hailwatcher had not specifically told him to remain in camp and, besides that, the apprentice needed new moss to line the warrior den with.

    The tall trees of the old RockClan forest now stood bare, only the conifers still proudly sporting their needles. Even the larches, whose needles had first turned yellow and then a sickly brown, stood naked in the face of the wind. Each day, the weather grew colder and colder, the whistling wind bringing with it the promise of a deadly leafbare.

    Puffing up his fur against the chill of late leaffall, Nightpaw began his task, glad to be away from the shrieks of the DarkClan camp.

    By the time he returned, jaws full of moss, the sun hung low over the horizon and silence had fallen over the camp. Dropping the moss in the warrior den, Nightpaw padded over to the nursery, where he found Hailwatcher sitting next to the exhausted queen. It looked almost as if the truth-teller were keeping watch over her.

    "A hard kitting," Hailwatcher said in a low voice. "Birchfrost is lucky to be alive. But the kits are still weak, and the night grows cold and dark."

    Nightpaw stepped forward to get a better look at the kits and saw three curled up against the grey and white she-cat's belly - one black, one tortoiseshell and one small grey kit.

    "Crowkit, Spottedkit and Webkit," Hailwatcher said, brushing his tail lightly over their tiny bodies. Then, grimly, "I hope you all survive the night, for Cedarheart's sake."

    Nightpaw looked to his mentor for an explanation, but the truth-teller dipped his head in farewell, leaving the black tom to ponder why the healer's fate was so intimately linked with the survival of these kits.

    When he woke the next morning, he found himself curled up next to Wrenkit and Bramblekit in the nursery. Blinking his eyes open blearily, Nightpaw realized he must have fallen asleep while watching Birchfrost's kits. Rising to his paws, he shook the cold from his black pelt and walked out into the fog-covered camp.

    Before he made it even halfway across camp, a new wail rose into the air; not a physically pained one, as the day before, but a long, mournful howl. The sound caused Nightpaw's neck fur to rise and made chills run down his spine.

    Hailwatcher reached the nursery first and Cedarheart not long after. The truth-teller fixed the healer with his piercing blue gaze as the brown tom stared down in horror at the three kits. Following the healer's eyes, Nightpaw realized that one of Birchfrost's offspring - the tortoiseshell - lay unnaturally still.

    "That's your third, isn't it?" came Hailwatcher's cool voice. Cedarheart did not lift his eyes from the dead kit, but his whole body began to shake.

    Looking between the two, Nightpaw's mind raced as he tried to comprehend what his mentor meant. The healer seemed frozen in fear.

    Without warning, Hailwatcher's paw flashed out, claws unsheathed, catching Cedarheart on the shoulder. The healer screeched in pain as the massive tom's claws sliced into him, but he made no move to defend himself, cowering away from the truth-teller. Nightpaw jumped back, out of the way, as Hailwatcher continued his assault, driving Cedarheart out of the nursery and into the centre of camp.

    Dawnstar sat waiting atop the Speaking Rock, watching the proceedings with a gleam in her amber eyes. She looked almost gleeful as Cedarheart came to a halt in front of her, face and sides covered with lacerations.

    "Your third infraction," she mused, jumping down to stand before the brown tabby. Cedarheart kept his head lowered, entire body shaking. He did not even flinch as Dawnstar's heavy paw landed on his cheek, deepening one of his many cuts.

    "You healers bear the burden of our ancestors," she said. "It is how it must be, otherwise our system falls apart. With no StarClan and no compassion for you to work with, how else are we to motivate you?"

    A shiver ran through Nightpaw as the realization came to him and he couldn't help but flinch away from the scene in disgust. Could it really be true that DarkClan's healer, the cat responsible for taking care of the sick, only got so many chances before being replaced?

    Dawnstar confirmed the apprentice's suspicions when she turned to address the Clan. In the early morning fog, the gathered cats were nothing more than dark shapes.

    "Our healer has failed to prevent three deaths within our Clan," Dawnstar proclaimed. "First, Garlicfur's greencough, taking her in his first moon as a full healer. Then, Swiftkit's whitecough, which took the kit in the first moon of his life. And, now, Spottedkit, dead before seeing her first sunrise.

    "It is time you found an apprentice and passed down your knowledge of herbs to another. Perhaps they will fair better than you have in the ways of a healer."

    Dawnstar turned to the nursery, where the four older kits sat with their eyes wide. Their caretakers pushed them to their paws and the kits came forward reluctantly, Bramblekit and Wrenkit first, then Shadekit, and Mothkit trailing behind.

    "Make your decision," the pale tortoiseshell commanded and Cedarheart flicked his tail half-heartedly. Dawnstar nodded, approving.

    "Before I apprentice these kits, let us hear a telling," she decided, turning expectantly. Nightpaw jumped to his paws when he realized her amber gaze had fallen on him instead of Hailwatcher.

    "Me?" He cursed the way his voice came out as a high-pitched squeak.

    The proud she-cat nodded, beckoning him to her. Feeling as if he had lost control of his body, the truth-teller's apprentice swallowed and forced himself to move. The leap up to Dawnstar's perch seemed much higher than he remembered it being when he climbed the Speaking Rock as a kit, though he was much bigger now.

    Only when he sat before the Clan atop the Speaking Rock, Dawnstar at his side, did Nightpaw realize he did not know what to tell of. He opened and closed his mouth once, twice, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat. Everyone stared up at him expectantly, though the fog veiled their expressions, leaving a sea of glowing eyes before him.

    Then, a particular pair of curious copper eyes stopped Nightpaw and, suddenly, he knew which story to tell.

    "Acornkit was born to a pair of guardians many seasons ago," he began, watching Wrenkit's eyes light up as he began his first true telling. The story flowed from his jaws like it had the first time he told it, the stumbles and mistakes gone now that he stood before the Clan. They did not react to the story like the kits had, but their pricked ears and bright eyes told Nightpaw they listened.

    He spoke of Acornpaw's practice, day and night, and all of the doubts placed on him. He told of Martenclaw's betrayal and Pinefrost's support, and Silverstar's wisdom in hearing both sides of the story. But, mostly, he talked about how Acornfire chose his own destiny through the choices he made.

    "We are the only cats responsible for our successes and failures," Nightpaw said as he finished Acornstar's story. "We can follow the path Heatherstar set down for us or we can choose another that only leads us astray. The choice is up to us."

    He fixed his golden eyes on each of the kits in turn first, before turning to Hailwatcher, whose eyes reflected something akin to pride.

    Dawnstar stepped forward. "Bramblepaw, you will be apprenticed to Skunknose. I hope his skills in both hunting and fighting will be passed on to you to make you a fast and strong warrior of DarkClan." The brown tabby tom nodded, joining his mentor near the entrance to the camp.

    "Shadepaw, you are quiet and watchful. I hope Oakshade's stealth will help you become a formidable warrior of DarkClan. You may join your mentor." The newly named Shadepaw left his littermates' side to join the brown tabby.

    Nightpaw's heart pounded in his chest as Wrenkit and Mothkit stepped forward. Behind them, Cedarheart continued to sit with his head lowered and the truth-teller's apprentice wondered which one he chose to be the next healer.

    "Wrenpaw, your curiosity knows no bounds and I have decided to apprentice you to Pigeonfang. Let her experiences and knowledge guide you as you travel the path of a warrior apprentice." Wrenpaw nodded, flicking her tail softly over Mothkit's side before joining the grey and white she-cat who would mentor her.

    Mothkit remained alone, shivering as the fog settled on her grey fur. She stood and padded over to Cedarheart, knowing her fate. Dawnstar purred from beside Nightpaw, watching the obedient kit.

    "Mothpaw, Cedarheart has chosen to pass his herbal knowledge to you. Until you become a full healer, no infractions will be counted against you. But, once your mentor is gone, it will be you who suffers the consequences of death."

    Nightpaw watched the grey she-cat nod her understanding, her whiskers and tail drooping as she followed her mentor to his hollow beneath one of the High Rocks. She already seemed resigned to her fate and, for some reason, Nightpaw found himself wondering what Mothpaw's ceremony might have been like in the Old Life, when she became a medicine cat.

    Before he could give the matter much thought, Dawnstar's tail flicked over his shoulder.

    "Interesting choice," she said, but whether she referred to Cedarheart's choice of apprentice or his own choice of telling, he did not know.

// SURPRISE UPDATE! 650+ views, 100+ votes and 250+ comments. Thank you so much!

I know this chapter might be a little controversial, especially in regards to the healer's role in DarkClan, but I promise all will be explained (by Hailwatcher, of course) in the next chapter.

I'll compile a list of favourite characters, as you've all commented in the previous chapter, for this weekend's update! Thanks for your continual support (: