Chapter 1

Hazelpaw walked behind her sleek, muscled grey mentor, Pebblefoot. He wasn't looking at her; but she preferred it that way, because when he did, he looked at her as if she were some poisonous creature, whose very existence in the world made his life a misery. It was alright for him – he wasn't the one that had to live her life, walk the path that she was destined to walk. He didn't have to find a little dignity so that he could walk with his head up through the island camp, where cats would stop momentarily for the sheer sake of shooting him dirty looks. It just didn't happen to him, a cat that was of pure RiverClan blood. Hazelpaw, on the other hand, was a mix of ShadowClan and ThunderClan; and there wasn't a drop of RiverClan blood in her. Her mother's mother had been a rogue, and her father a ThunderClan cat, and Hazelpaw's father – she didn't know him.

There were the rumours, of course, that her father was some ThunderClan warrior, because of the Clan's reputation for forbidden love. She knew the truth, though; before her mother had distanced herself from Hazelpaw, cut her out of her life, she'd told the apprentice in a frightened whisper, in fear that other cats might hear. He was of ShadowClan, the apprentice learnt, a noble, loyal warrior, according to her mother. He'd heard hearsay of Hazelpaw's existence, yet whether he believed it or not only time would tell – and when her mother had tried to talk to him at a Gathering he'd stared at her emotionlessly, blinked, and then turned on his heel, leaving her standing there. As her daughter, Hazelpaw should have helped her mother through the dark moments when she talked to her outside the nursery, on the verge of tears, spilling out all the troubles and worries in her life. Maybe for a moment, in the four moons before the apprentice began to understand the implications of her existence, the medicine cat actually believed that her daughter could be a companion to her. Momentarily, she'd thought that Hazelpaw could be a daughter to her, her flesh and blood; yet all these dreams were shattered when she first told Mothwing that her love of her was wasted, and that she could never love her mother back.

She remembered the day when, just before she was about to become an apprentice, Mothwing had come to lick her clean, like all the other queens had done. Of course, she'd returned to her medicine cat duties, and she only saw Hazelpaw when she wasn't healing or sorting herbs or finding them, but she still managed to come and see the apprentice, and became the epitome of a devoted mother. She was licking her daughter clean, chattering on about how much a warrior complained about a thorn in his pad, and that she hoped when Hazelpaw was a warrior that she wouldn't do that, but she knew that her daughter wouldn't because she was so strong and stoic. Hazelpaw realised, then, that she was disgusted with her mother – the cat that had so easily shouldered aside the warrior code, and had got away with it without much punishment, was happy. She was happy that Hazelpaw existed, even though she'd broken the warrior code to have me. She thought that her daughter was just another piece of her life that had fitted into place the way she'd wanted it to, although the side effects of everyone giving her the cold shoulder was one of the things she hadn't taken into account. If she'd been a dedicated medicine cat, she wouldn't have even thought about falling in love in the first place, and she should have seen that it was a bad idea after what had happened to the ThunderClan medicine cat. So Hazelpaw knew, then and there, that she had to tell her.

She had to tell her mother that she couldn't keep up this 'I'm so happy' thing anymore. She had to tell her mother that no matter what the medicine cat did in the future couldn't make up for what she'd done in the past. When Hazelpaw had told her first, Mothwing had laughed, and given her a lick, and told her that she shouldn't be silly and that these sorts of games weren't funny. So she'd repeated it, and it was then that medicine cat believed her; and then the medicine cat distanced herself from her daughter for the rest of her life, looking through her every time she came into the medicine den, walking past her and leaving Willowshine to treat the apprentice.

In truth, Willowshine was the only friend Hazelpaw had, the only friend she'd ever had, in the Clan. The grey she-cat was the only cat that'd ever laugh with her, or smile at her, or greet her with civil words – she didn't judge the warrior apprentice, and she never could, because Mothwing was her mentor, and Hazelpaw was her mentor's daughter. She knew, though, that she wasn't particularly special to the older apprentice, because that was how the medicine cat apprentice treated everyone. Willowshine was always smiling, and was always friendly; it didn't matter who to, whether they were in a different Clan or in no Clan at all. She was the most open-minded of everyone in the Clan, the only cat who didn't skirt around Hazelpaw, muttering curses, when she walked through the camp.

The golden apprentice jolted back into reality as, ahead of her, Rushpaw slipped on the tree bridge to the Gathering Island. Pebblefoot was too far ahead of him to help the apprentice, his head turning quickly as the brown tabby fell. The grey tom shook his head, narrowed his eyes and stalked forwards, obviously assuming that Rushpaw would be able to swim to the Island; but Hazelpaw knew, as did Mallownose, that the apprentice's swimming ability was limited. She lunged forwards and dived into the water with her paws outstretched, pulling the struggling apprentice up by the scruff. She felt him kick her in the stomach, and felt a dull pain as a small scratch appeared on her underside, but carried on, pulling him through the water, her fur flattening against her pelt so that it was slick and clinging to her, outlining her thin, lithe frame. The RiverClan apprentice determinedly pushed herself through the water, mustering all the strength she could gather, and finally pulled herself and the other apprentice up out of the water, following up her front legs with her well-muscled back ones. Rushpaw, coughing and spluttering, dragged himself to his paws and glared at her.

"I didn't need your help, HalfClan filth!" he spat.

Hazelpaw looked down at her paws and sighed, flushing under her fur. She didn't raise her head as he stalked away proudly, shaking the water out of his fur, nor did she raise it for a while until the blush slowly faded away. She thought that it would be obvious, by now, that she had a crush on him – but to her, he showed the exact opposite. Yet no matter how badly he acted to her, no matter how badly he crushed her, nothing could change the way she felt about him; the fluttering in her chest when he was around, the avoidance of his eyes when he stared at her with hatred. There was no one she could talk to about it. Mothwing would just stare blankly through her, and Willowshine – well, Willowshine was the medicine cat apprentice. She'd never been in love and never could be in love.

Still disheartened and ashamed of herself, Hazelpaw padded through the crowd of assembled cats. The two other RiverClan apprentices at the Gathering had easily mixed with the other cats present; Hollowpaw and Rushpaw were talking with Bumblepaw of ThunderClan and Ferretpaw of ShadowClan in low voices, whilst Willowshine and Flametail were having a heated discussion about which kind of herb was best used to cure some kind of cough. Over by the bushes, she noticed Starlingpaw, Blossompaw and Briarpaw laughing and smiling with each other – those were the cats that she talked to every Gathering, and they truly welcomed her arrival every time she bounced over to them and made some mouse-brained comment that made them all giddy with laughter. When they saw her, Briarpaw beckoned Hazelpaw over with her tail.

"Hi, Hazelpaw," the ThunderClan apprentice greeted her enthusiastically. "I saw you save that apprentice. It was really brave of you, even though he didn't seem to think so."

"Well, what can I say? He's Rushpaw, and he thinks everything I do and say, even if I save his skin, is mouse-brained," Hazelpaw told the three other apprentices, and they all burst out laughing, and she realised that these were the cats that she could truly talk to without any embarrassment.

"That just makes him all the more handsome," Starlingpaw said with a sigh, batting her eyelashes, and then added quickly, "I'm joking. You don't need to look at me like that! Who'd want to be mates with that mouse-brained, arrogant fool, anyway?"

They all giggled again, although Hazelpaw only did this half-heartedly, and couldn't help but shoot a wistful gaze in the direction of the pale brown tom, promptly tearing it away when the others stopped laughing to breathe. Briarpaw opened her mouth, as if to make some other comment, when she was interrupted by a yowl from one of the leaders.

Standing on the large oak tree that was the centrepiece of the Island were four cats – Brambleclaw, Mistystar, Blackstar, and Ashstar. Blackstar, the proud, defiant cat that he was, had taken up residence in the higher branches, whilst Brambleclaw was seated a branch below him, his amber eyes glowing formidably in the darkness. RiverClan had learnt only recently of the ill health of the current leader, Firestar, and that Brambleclaw had taken up the role of leader in ThunderClan, but still deferred to Firestar for council. Mistystar sat on a low branch, draping herself elegantly across it, whilst Ashstar, the least at ease in trees, was on the very lowest branch, sitting up dead straight and nestling herself in the crook of two branches so she wouldn't fall. The deputies, Whitetail, Russetfur, Reedwhisker, and the acting deputy Lionblaze, were seated upon the gnarled, twisted roots of the oak trees, all a distance apart from each other, as if they did not want to touch the other Clans' pelts.

The leader that had yowled was Brambleclaw, which was reasonably surprising, seeing as he wasn't officially a leader yet. His blazing amber eyes glared down at the cats below him, his gaze sweeping over the cats one at a time. She shivered slightly as his eyes rested on her, grew wide in astonishment, and then moved on, occasionally flitting back to her. So he'd recognised her; but so what? What would she mean to him?

"ThunderClan is doing well," Brambleclaw meowed. "Sadly, the fever Firestar has caught has shown no signs of leaving his body, and we as a Clan are very concerned that these are his last sunrises," he bowed his head, holding a silence for a few heartbeats. "We have two new apprentices, Dovepaw and Ivypaw, and two new warriors, Foxleap and Icecloud."

A ginger and a white warrior rose together, and Hazelpaw guessed they were brother and sister. A silver tabby and a fluffy grey she-cat stood proudly, smiling and nudging each other. They sat next to each other, and had obviously decided not to mix with the other Clan apprentices, but stay by their mentors, as many apprentices had done when they went to their first Gathering. They looked surprisingly confident, however, and beamed at the cats around them, looking ridiculously happy; Starlingpaw and Hazelpaw exchanged looks and had to hide their laughter with two well-executed coughing fits.

A few eyes turned upon them, making some of the warriors and elders roll their eyes and mutter something fondly about apprentices, but most of them remained upon the acting ThunderClan leader, who merely nodded his head and withdrew from his place at the tip of one of the branches. The two newly-named warriors and the two apprentices sat down as Ashstar stalked forwards, her dark blue eyes sparkling imperiously in the night sky around her. She walked a little unsteadily, her claws latched into the branch, stirring up a few laughs from some of the watching ThunderClan cats, who were like squirrels in trees. Hazelpaw had watched them from the lake, hunting the birds, as they leapt agilely from tree to tree with grace, and was many a time lost in a daydream about flying. Ashstar silenced them with a proud, what-do-you-think-you're-laughing-at look, and proceeded to walk smoothly to the end, where she looked down at the assembled cats.

"WindClan has nothing much to report, save the fact that Whitetail, Harespring and Crowfeather –" the last name was spoken with the faintest hint of contempt "– have chased a badger into RiverClan territory."

"We shall look forward to that, I'm sure," Mistystar said, narrowing her eyes and standing up.

Ashstar dipped her head to the RiverClan leader and retreated down her branch. The blue-grey leader made her way across the twisted oak branch, sitting down as it ended abruptly in a fork.

"I am sad to report the disappearances of three of our apprentices," she began with a sigh. "Copperpaw, Nettlepaw and Sneezepaw disappeared eighteen sunrises ago, and we have not seen or heard of them since. RiverClan remembers them from the depths of their hearts, and we have prayed to StarClan that they will come back to us. All the same, we remain strong, and Duskfur gave birth to three healthy kits, Thistlekit, Shadekit and Ravenkit."

The disappearances were much muttered about, and there were many congratulatory meows when news of the kits was announced. The RiverClan leader then nodded, and slipped away down her branch, leaving the path clear for Blackstar to announce his Clan's news. However, the ShadowClan leader had other ideas, and shrugged, not moving from his place on the tree branch.

"ShadowClan has no news," he called down. "This Gathering is dismissed."

The large white tom leapt from the tree with a single leap, landing squarely on his four large black paws between the deputies of WindClan and ShadowClan. Russetfur didn't bat an eye, and moved to follow Blackstar, flicking her tail to her Clan, a clear command for them tomorrow. Starlingpaw muttered a quick goodbye to the three other apprentices and dashed through the crowd, pushing past a few disgruntled cats who yelled angrily after her. The other leaders dropped from the tree more slowly, landing much more elegantly and less abruptly upon the smooth dirt beneath the tree, apart from Ashstar, who half-fell half-jumped from the tree, only saving herself from tumbling down by pressing herself flat to the ground and then standing up. By then, most of the cats had turned their attention away, and were chatting amongst themselves, so few noticed the WindClan leader perform her amusing act.

"How's the training going?" Briarpaw asked.

"Fine," Hazelpaw sighed, glancing at her paws. "Half the time, Pebblefoot just stares into space whilst I'm hunting or trying to copy his fighting moves. I don't think his heart's in teaching me at all. I'm so far behind in my hunting skills – Rushpaw, who started his training after me, brings back so much prey at one time, when all I bring back is a skinny fish with hardly anything but bones in it."

"At least you can swim," Blossompaw put in. "Rushpaw doesn't know how to swim yet. You told us that, remember?"

"Yeah," the golden she-cat agreed, putting on a lighter tone of voice, but not feeling any better.

Briarpaw opened her mouth, about to speak, when her eyes grew round and she took a step back, and then dipped her head hurriedly. Blossompaw quickly followed suit, causing Hazelpaw to turn around hurriedly; standing there was the large, resplendent brown tabby who was her uncle. His golden eyes rested on her, and then looked at the two other apprentices.

"Blossompaw, Briarpaw," he meowed, jerking his head to the side.

The two sisters scurried away to rejoin their Clan, being led away by Lionblaze, and leaving Hazelpaw alone with Brambleclaw. The blue-eyed apprentice could do nothing but stare up at him, her limbs locked in place, her paws rooted to the ground. Her mouth went dry with fear.

"You're Mothwing's daughter," he said; it wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"Yes," was all Hazelpaw could manage, out of her choked, dry throat; in her mind, though, she was thinking, I wish I wasn't – I wish I could answer with a no.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Hazelpaw," she answered.

"Hazelpaw," he repeated. "I want to tell you…I want to tell you that if you ever have nowhere to run, then there will always be a place in ThunderClan for you."

She stared at him, and blinked. In ThunderClan, she was sure to be accepted for whom she was – and how many times had she daydreamed about being able to leap from tree to tree to catch squirrels? There, she would always have safety, always have her friends, Blossompaw and Briarpaw, by her side. She could grow up there as a warrior, have a mate and kits, and live life like it were a dream. She could be happy in ThunderClan, and she could be strong, and loyal and respected. She could feel wanted there, not out of place, like she did in RiverClan. She wouldn't miss the lake, wouldn't miss the rich colours of sunrise rippling upon its shimmering surface. She could see it in ThunderClan territory, too – and she wouldn't miss swimming through the rivers, and catching fish, which she could still do from time to time. She would learn to catch birds, and have a mentor who cared about her, and treated her kindly. And then, without really thinking, she blurted out,

"Why?"

The large tom tilted his head in confusion, his eyes taking on a cloudy look, so much like her mother's. He then pushed his brow into a frown and twitched his ear uncomfortably, sheathing and unsheathing his claws, which she'd seen her mother do so many times, when she was frustrated, annoyed, or hiding something.

"You're my kin," he replied, and such a straightforward answer made her doubt whether he was like her mother at all. "I – once, another of my kin was in a similar position. I told her that there would always be a place in ThunderClan for her, because she was, in her heart, a ThunderClan cat. You are no different; I think, Hazelpaw, that though you may appear a RiverClan cat, your heart does not truly rest there."

He finished, and his speech was followed by a long silence from the RiverClan she-cat. She tilted her head to one side, staring directly into his eyes with her amber ones – although they were quite different tones of amber. Her eyes were golden amber, a livid flame burning within their depths. His, on the other hand, were a murky green-yellow, less pure and more mottled, yet strong and unflinching. Those eyes of his had power, whereas Hazelpaw's possessed a gentility which she did not believe fitting of a warrior.

It made her think, though, those eyes of his. In ThunderClan, she had true, genuine kin who cared about her, and friends who were unquestionably loyal to her. In RiverClan, what did she have? A mother who didn't care, nonexistent friends, and a mentor to whom her training didn't matter – what did RiverClan hold over ThunderClan? This could be such an easy choice; but she refused to make it one. There was so much that she had considered in those few heartbeats, that if she hadn't thought, her answer would have been quite the opposite of the one she now gave.

"If I accepted, would I have any honour? Would I ever earn the respect of cats that are not of my Clan? If I didn't like ThunderClan and I ran back to RiverClan would there be even the slightest chance that I would be welcomed back an accepted for who I am? The answer is no – which causes me to reply to your request with a no, too. For I shall not be called a coward for running from something I can handle," Hazelpaw said, a faint growl edging her voice. "Perhaps you don't understand, Brambleclaw – but I understand all too well."

If only Mistystar could see me now, and the rest of the Clan, she thought to herself, who would question my loyalty to my birth Clan? Who would be able to come up with an argument which could counter for what I just saw? If I was the coward that Mothwing was, I would have caved in; but I am an entirely different cat.

It was then that she saw him; he was trailing behind some of the ThunderClan cats, very far away from his leader. His pelt reeked of ShadowClan, a funny, pungent scent that caused her to wrinkle her nose. His pelt was a hazy greyish black and his eyes – there was no denying it. His glowing amber orbs, with their rich, pure colour, that of honeycomb, were undoubtedly hers, mirrored in an older, darker face. His muscular body, and hardened grey-pink pads were hers as well, yet more defined muscle tone rippled beneath the dark fur – this cat, that was not particularly special, nor particularly handsome, was her father.

He didn't see her, at first. He was chatting politely with Cinderheart, who was excitedly recounting some an encounter with a fox, proudly flexing her shoulder to show off the scar she'd received. She was telling him about how she'd slashed at the fox's muzzle and then ducked down, avoiding its sharp claws and managing to deliver a killing blow to the fox's jaw. Hazelpaw, being her usual, curious self, eager to learn about battle moves which her mentor neglected to teach her, moved forwards slightly so she could hear the grey she-cat. Then, he saw Hazelpaw – and half-flinched, half-blinked, recoiling immediately. His eyes scanned over her quickly, a look of alarm flashing over his face.

"Excuse me," he muttered to Cinderheart, and then pushed through the crowd of ThunderClan cats, earning curses thrown in his general direction as he went.

The grey ThunderClan cat twisted her head round, obviously confused, and stared directly at the apprentice for a couple of heartbeats with a frown. The RiverClan cat took in a deep breath, wondering if Cinderheart would notice the similarity in the eyes, but the warrior shrugged and looked back around again, padding forwards to talk to another warrior, whose name was Mousewhisker. She vaguely wondered whether they were brother and sister, but decided that they didn't look enough alike, and trailed slowly after the ThunderClan party, her paws feeling heavy, as if each step was a great labour. The evening that had unfolded before her had been more trying than she'd imagined.

The RiverClan cats that'd been to the Gathering entered the camp, moonlight shining down upon the wispy, dry grasses surrounding the river and lighting a clear path for them. Occasionally, a wispy, dark grey cloud passed over the moon, causing a faint hesitation in the bright moonlight of the night. The river mirrored the night sky above it, the round white moon reflected in its rippling surface. Once or twice a splash was heard from the river, and a faint flash of silver could be seen, the only sign that fish swam through these waters.

A few of the cats decided to swim onto the island, but most preferred to keep their coats dry, for every now and then, a sharp, biting wind swept over the land, stirring up sharp hisses and sprays from the unfathomable river. Hazelpaw was among those who decided to take the small, precarious stepping stones across the water, in an attempt to keep her fur dry. The golden she-cat was padding confidently across, followed by Hollowpaw, who suddenly leaped and knocked her clean off the stones, sending her tumbling into the water. Mistystar jerked her head around quickly, her eyes fixing on Hollowpaw with a deep, blue-eyed scowl, sure to strike fear into the hearts of any foe foolish enough to oppose her.

"What was that, Hollowpaw?" she snapped.

Just then, the other apprentice surfaced with a gasp, taking in the cold night air with hurried, gulping breaths. The leader raised an eyebrow at Hollowpaw, watching as Hazelpaw hastily pulled herself up onto the slippery stone, wet with moss. The rest of the cats, save those who were swimming, had stopped and waited for what Mistystar would do. Some of the warriors had bets going on; they leant their heads together and were whispering furiously, laughing quietly and shooting glances at both of the apprentices.

"Care to explain yourself, Hollowpaw?"

The brown tom looked at his paws shame-facedly, his green eyes watering in embarrassment. Hazelpaw could almost see him flushing underneath his pelt, and he looked close to frightened at the punishment Mistystar would deal him.

"I thought not," the blue-grey she-cat narrowed her eyes. "Let me tell you something – though you may have no respect or value of Hazelpaw, I do, so bear that in mind. Is it, perhaps, because she is HalfClan? If it is, I must argue that it is not her fault, because she was born that way; and I must also remind you that I am HalfClan, too. If you respect me for whom I am, then you must respect her also, for one day she might become a great warrior. Or is it, maybe, out of jest that you do so? If so, I remind you that you must learn when jest is appropriate and when it is not – and clearly, Hazelpaw does not seem too thrilled with being pushed in the river. I trust that you will give Hazelpaw your apologies, Hollowpaw."
She waited, and only then did Hollowpaw realise that he had to apologise to Hazelpaw. Keeping his eyes on his paws, the older apprentice muttered something incoherent, which sounded strangely like, 'I'll get you back later, you just wait'. Mistystar looked slightly displeased, but turned around and continued on smoothly, leaping onto the banks of the camp with grace. Hollowpaw sent a glare in the broad-shouldered leader's direction, his brown eyes looking annoyed and angry.

Hazelpaw, quite embarrassed by her leader's protection of her, stumbled clumsily onto the bank, followed by the other grumpy apprentice. There were rumours that Hollowpaw was the son of Hawkfrost, but his mother had hidden it because he'd been born after the icy-eyed warrior's treachery had been revealed; he did look strangely like Brambleclaw, but no one commented about it. One thing that every cat in the Clan knew about him was that he could bite like the Dark Forest. It was always best to avoid angering him.

On the whole, she was miserable. Her fur was soaked through, her teeth were chattering together in the cold, and Hollowpaw and Rushpaw were glaring at her venomously. Times like this made her consider the ThunderClan deputy's offer again, but then, there were the other times…the times when she was swimming, catching a fish, or skittering breathlessly over the stones, that made her undesirable existence in RiverClan worth it. Still caught in the beauty, the intricacy of these fond memories, the RiverClan apprentice padded through the moonlit reeds, towards the tangled, hulking shape of the apprentice's den, the poisonous holly hiding the flawed, crumbling stone structure beneath it.

She slipped into the apprentice's den and was immediately met by a pair of unblinking moss-green eyes that stared right through her. The cat, Mossypaw, let out a squeal of joy and bounded to her paws, waking up Troutpaw, when Rushpaw and Hollowpaw squeezed through the entrance. The older apprentice gave Mossypaw a shove, rolled over, yawned, and fell back to sleep, whereas the brown-and-white she-cat bounced from paw to paw in excitement.

"How was it?" she asked breathlessly. "Were there any fights? Was StarClan angry?"

"Don't be a mouse-brain, Mossypaw," her brother, Hollowpaw, snorted. "I'm tired, and I don't want to be woken."

"Rushpaw will tell me about it, won't you, Rushpaw?" Mossypaw said in an injured tone.

"You'd better not," Troutpaw growled, apparently awake. "I'm in no mood to be woken up again."

"That makes two of us," Hollowpaw muttered from his nest.

"Am I completely invisible?" Hazelpaw asked angrily, pushing her way through the other apprentices to her nest, right at the end, as far away from the other apprentices as possible.

"Yes," her den-mates chorused.

She let out a sigh, flopping down onto her nest and resting her head upon her paws, her amber eyes staring unblinkingly into the dark outside. Hazy, indistinct shapes of warriors moving around the island flickered in and out of existence, the lines of the swaying plants and the outlines of the warriors blurring together into a mass of dark, swirling shapes, which became the demons in her dream that night.

Author's Note: Okay, I have a lot of explaining to do. Firstly, I know I haven't updated for over six months. I know. If you read my other story, The Abyss, I apologise for not updating that for ages, but I had writer's block on that front. I plan to update it by Sunday, but please excuse me if it is not.

Next things next – this story was formerly known as I'm Not Wanted, but I renamed it Fragment; also, I did rename the main character, because her name was only mentioned in the blurb, not in the first, prologue-like chapter. Her name is now Hazelpaw, because Butterflypaw had too many syllables, I reckon, and sounded a bit…silly, you know? And also, do you guys want allegiances? You may think that Rushpaw is a she-cat, but he's one of those funny, gender-changing cats that starts off as a tom and ends up as a she-cat, or vice versa (as in Rowanclaw's case). I took the allegiances from The Fourth Apprentice, where Rushpaw is listed as a tom, so he remains a tom. I hope that cleared things up.