The Darkest Hour

His voice rang out clearly as he began the ceremony with the words that were familiar to him from his own ceremony and all the others he had seen. “I, Firestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn.” Turning to the apprentice, Firestar continued, “Thornpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

Thornpaw’s reply was firm and confident. “I do.”

“T h en by the powers of StarClan,” Firestar declared, “I give you your warrior name: Thorn p a w, from this moment you will be known as Thorn c l a w. StarClan honors your loyalty and your intelligence, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.”

Stepping forward, Firestar rested his muzzle on the top of Thornclaw’s head, feeling the new warrior quiver with excitement. Thornclaw licked his shoulder in return, and met his gaze with a long look in which happiness and sorrow were mingled. Firestar knew he was remembering his den mate Swiftpaw, dead before he could know the fulfilment of being a warrior.

As Thornclaw stepped back to join the warriors, Lostface slipped over to him. “Thornclaw!” she purred, swiping her tongue over his ear. She had kept her promise to be the first cat to greet him with his new warrior name, and her voice held warmth and pride in his achievement.

Cloudtail pressed up behind her, greeting Thornclaw in his turn, and flashed a questioning look at Firestar.

Firestar gave him a nod. For a few moments he allowed the Clan to welcome the new warrior by chanting his name, and then he signaled with his tail for silence. When the cats had settled down, he meowed, “Before you go, I’ve something more to say. First, I want to honor the apprentice who should have been here, receiving his warrior name along with Thornclaw. You all know how Swiftpaw met his death trying to hunt down the dog pack who threatened us. His Clan will always remember that.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the assembled cats. Firestar glanced at Longtail, who had been the dead apprentice’s mentor, and saw a look of pride and grief cross his face.

“In addition,” Firestar continued, “I want to give thanks from the Clan to Fernpaw and Ashpaw. They showed the bravery of warriors in the race against the dogs, and although they are still too young to receive their warrior names, we honor them.”

“Fernpaw! Ashpaw!” The two apprentices looked overwhelmed to hear themselves praised by their Clan mates, and Dustpelt’s eyes shone with delight. Only Darkstripe, Fernpaw’s mentor, remained silent, staring coldly in front of him without even turning to look at his apprentice.

Firestar waited until the noise died down. “There’s one more ceremony to perform.” He flicked his tail to beckon Lostface out of the crowd. Nervously she stepped forward to stand in front of him; Cloudtail followed her, remaining a tail-length or so away.

A murmur of surprise went through the watching cats. Many of them, Firestar realized, would not know what was about to happen. The name-changing ceremony for a warrior who had already been given a new name had not been held for many seasons.

Remembering what One-eye had told him, he began to speak. “Spirits of StarClan, you know every cat by name. I ask you now to take away the name from the cat you see before you, for it no longer stands for what she is.”

He paused and saw the young ginger-and-white she-cat shiver, as she waited, nameless, before StarClan. Firestar hoped she would like the name he had chosen for her; he had thought hard before he was sure he had gotten it right.

“By my authority as Clan leader,” Firestar announced, “and with the approval of our warrior ancestors, I give this cat a new name. From this moment she will be known as Brightheart, for though her body has been gravely injured, we honor her brave spirit and the light that shines on within her.”

He stepped close to the newly named Brightheart, and as he had done in the warrior ceremony, rested his muzzle on her head. She responded like any newly named warrior by licking his shoulder.

“Brightheart! Brightheart!” The yowl rose from the assembled cats. Brightheart had been popular when she was an apprentice, and the whole Clan had grieved over her injuries. She would never be a warrior in the truest sense of the word, but there would always be a place for her in ThunderClan.

Firestar led Brightheart to where Cloudtail was waiting. “Well?” he asked. “Is that fair enough for you?”

Cloudtail could barely reply; he was too busy pressing his muzzle against Brightheart’s and winding his tail with hers. “It’s perfect, Firestar,” he murmured.