Prologue

In the shadows of the night, the moon shines down on claws flashing and fangs snapping and cats shrieking for their lives. Stars flicker across Silverpelt, like StarClan is watching closely, waiting to see what will happen.

In the middle of all the chaos, two warriors creep in a circle, growling, wondering who will make the first move. Their eyes glow in a silent face-off.

"Ashstar," one of the two, a dark tom, spits. "I've been waiting for this for moons." He black stripes ripple across his skin as his muscles flex. His entire body is a coiled spring, waiting to be snapped.

"Sharpstar," Ashstar, a russet-and-white she-cat, replies in a soft, beautiful voice. "Do you really want to do this? There's still a chance for peace." Behind her silhouette, lightning flashes across the sky, as if StarClan agrees. Or disagrees... Thunderclouds roll in and rain splatters onto the writhing mass of battling cats.

"We can still stop fighting," Ashstar continues. "Listen to me, Sharpstar. Go back to ThunderClan. Take care of your kits. Let them have something to live for. This war is about our elders, our apprentices, and our warriors. Not just about you. Please, let's end this forever, together. Sharpstar, are you with me?"

Around them, the turmoil comes to a halt as the crowd hears these last words.

Indecision flashes across Sharpstar's dark face. He glances back and forth at the warriors around him, and his pearly eyes blink once. Without a sound, he steps forward proudly. He lifts his head and stares evenly at the leader of WindClan in front of him. In only a moment, he takes in her russet pelt and the small dashes of white on the tips of her ears and the end of her tail.

"Sharpstar?" she asks, anxiety flashing across her usually calm face.

He pauses for a moment, holding completely still. Then, as fast as lightning, he lashes out, claws unsheathed, and rips open the she-cat's throat. Her body crumples onto the stones and her blood starts to flow. A collective hiss of terror rises from the cats around him. He looks around, part of him horrified, the other darkly satisfied.

"Does anyone else wish for peace?" he yowls, making any cat near him back away. "You see what happens when you try to end this war? It will never end. Not until there is a rightful winner!" Silence washes in waves over everyone in the clearing. No one moves.

Finally, a bold individual raises her voice. "Sharpstar," she says, stepping into the center of the clearing. Her pale white pelt glows in an unearthly way in the moonlight.

"Blackmoon," ThunderClan's leader nods. "Surely you agree with me about this -"

"Mirror, river, and heart must come together as one," Blackmoon interrupts, her voice far away.

A prophecy, the rational part of Sharpstar's mind realizes. But he shakes his head, hissing at the white and black she-cat in front of him. "Blackmoon," he tries, but she raises her tail, stopping him.

"Mirror, river, and heart must come together as one," she repeats, drawing nearer. Sharpstar backs away, glancing around him. Blackmoon elegantly steps over the Ashstar's body, her paws landing in the puddle of blood surrounding it. She leaves red pawprints as she continues forward.

"If you value your Clan, your life, and the lives of the rest of the warriors in the forest, you will hear what we have to say," she cautions, her usual voice replaced by the voices of many cats. "StarClan chose you for a reason, but you never take our advice to heart. How many times have we warned you about the future? Yet you never heed our words. Too many of your warriors have died because of you. Their blood is on your paws, and only yours. This is the last prophecy you will ever receive from us. It would be wise to listen."

An eerie light fills the forest, blinding ThunderClan's leader. He blinks, and the cats around him are gone. His eyes flick around the empty forest before his instincts to run take over and he bounds through the trees, weaving through the undergrowth, his eyes wild and his legs pumping.

I just need to get back to Petalsong, he thinks to himself, knowing that his deputy can shed some insight on what just happened. He senses the forest floor sloping down, signaling that the camp is coming up soon. He draws to a stop at the edge of the cliff leading down to ThunderClan's camp, but there is nothing there. Where it used to be, there is a desolate clearing littered with the bodies of warriors, elders, kits, queens... and Petalsong, too. Her dark brown body is sprawled out in the center of camp, on top of a lifeless kit's. She must have died protected it.

What have I done? Sharpstar's eyes flick over the scene, but his mind can't take it in. Everything he ever cared for is gone. ThunderClan is ruined.

"Brace yourself," voices whisper in his ear. He whips around, but no one is there. He turns around slowly, not seeing anyone. He faces the camp again to see a harsh light in the middle of the camp, next to Petalsong. When the brightness dims a bit, he sees three pure white cats next to each other. No, there are two. Now there's only one.

"Mirror, river, and heart must come together as one," the voices say again, before the light blinks out.

Slowly, the dim trees are replaced by the warm walls of his den under the Highrock. His eyes fly open and he gasps as the dreamscape disappears. It was just a dream.

He shakes his head, trying to dismiss the ominous message he received. But he can't keep his mind off it. Mirror, river, heart...

"Sharpstar?" a voice calls from outside his den.

"Come in," he replies, his voice shaky. He lifts himself out of his nest his nest and stretches. His bones feel weak and rattled.

Petalsong, his deputy, steps in, saying something about kits that are old enough to become apprentices. Sharpstar blinks a few times, trying to clear his head.

"So, should we hold the ceremony today or tomorrow?" Petalsong finishes, looking at Sharpstar expectantly.

"Uh, tomorrow," he says absently, hoping he was listening halfway well.

"Alright," Petalsong nods her head respectfully. She ducks out of the leader's den and lets a rush of cold leaf-bare air in. Sharpstar shivers before hurrying out behind her.

"Petalsong, I had a dream -" he begins before realizing she's gone - probably on a patrol. "Never mind," he grumbles and heads over to the fresh-kill pile, which isn't all that fresh anymore. The only decent-looking piece there is a mouse, but he doesn't really have an appetite.

I need to talk to Hazelstripe, he decides and heads across camp to the medicine cat's den. With every step he takes, he sees how intact the camp is, and how fragile it is as well. If what he saw in his dream ever happened...

"Hi, Sharpstar," Hazelstripe's apprentice, Larkpaw, greets him cheerily. She turns around and bounds into her den she shares with the medicine cat. Moments later, she returns with her mentor.

"Sharpstar," Hazelstripe bows his pale beige head and beckons him inside. "Larkpaw, go fetch me some fresh-kill, would you?" The gray apprentice nods and runs out of the den.

"You never stop by," Hazelstripe meows. "So this must be important."

Sharpstar nods, knowing he wouldn't be able to share the importance of this without somehow showing Hazelstripe exactly what he saw. "I had a dream," he begins. "And I received a prophecy."

"A prophecy?" Hazelstripe says, his ears perking up. "Can you tell me the exact words?"

"Mirror, river, and heart must come together as one," Sharpstar recalls. How could he ever forget that?

Hazelstripe freezes. "Did you say 'mirror'?" he says in a tense voice. Sharpstar nods, dreading anything the medicine cat has to say. Maybe it was a mistake bringing the information here.

"Oh, StarClan," Hazelstripe murmurs before noticing that Sharpstar is staring at him intently. "Ah, never mind. It's probably nothing, at least not at the moment..." He trails off and turns around, rummaging through his piles of herbs. Sharpstar takes this as a cue to leave, nodding quickly before backing out of the den and into the sunlight.

Hazelstripe was obviously not telling him something. But Sharpstar knows better than to pry. Still... this prophecy about these three cats sounds a bit too familiar. Too much like the prophecy of the three warriors with unbelievable abilities so long ago - Jayfeather, Lionblaze, and Dovewing. Why would StarClan bring three more cats into this?

O O O

"He's definitely worried," a russet she-cat muses. "I tried to rattle him, but maybe it was too early."

"You know how he is," a flame-colored tom next to her shakes his head. "He will dismiss it as the result of a bad piece of fresh-kill. His belief in StarClan is shaky."

Both of them are silent for a while. The trees around them are green and full of life, not like the bare branches below them. It's always greenleaf in StarClan's hunting grounds.

"Ashstar," the tom says. "I think this was a mistake. Maybe the prophecy wasn't meant for this generation of warriors. Mirror, river, and heart might come later."

"No, Firestar. It's time for the three to come together. We have to let them."

The two cats glance at each other, thinking the same thing: the three are going to be impossible to unite.