“From the beginning, we’ve always relied on the living. We are benefactors and guides to those cats who embody those traits we require in a champion, and in return, they act in our stead in that world. It is a delicate balance, for they have the power to either fulfill our duties or forsake them.
“Once, long ago, our forefathers trusted those they shouldn’t have — cats with bloodlust in their hearts and greed in their eyes. It turned the world into flames, and we lost everything. Now, we must be even more careful. I have decided to take matters into my own paws. Instead of waiting for a cat who can take up the mantle, I have designed him. I directed the course of his life. When the time is right, he will become my champion.”
As the sermon came to an end, silence fell in the celestial meadow. Star-laden flowers gleamed with light as they poked through the ethereal grasses of StarClan’s prairie. It was a lovely, peaceful place with a warm breeze and plenty of starry prey to eat. There was a small cherry tree, eternally blooming, and underneath sat a black she-cat and a silvery tom. They stared down the speaker, a mass of stars that looked as if a galaxy had torn free from its restraints and coalesced into one cat-like form.
“… what a load of shit,” the black she-cat spat. The cosmic cat looked taken aback, but the she-cat continued without letting him continue. “Are you telling me that, in your infinite wisdom,” venomous sarcasm dripped from those words, “you decided that torturing an innocent kit was the best course of action?”
“You don’t understand-”
“You’re right,” the she-cat interrupted again. “I can’t understand something so stupid. Idiotic. Mousebrained.” She continued with words that neither of the other cats understood before taking a deep breath. “You wanted to punish this child – my child – for what? Because you guys messed up in the past and picked the wrong champions?”
The celestial cat’s tail lashed. “That’s not how it is.”
“That’s how it sounds,” the third cat, the silvery tom, finally spoke up. “Your meddling is what caused Ravenfrost to lose his home, family, everything – and you’re angry at us for interfering? Canopus, aren’t you ashamed?”
“I have no such petty emotions-”
“Except fear, clearly,” the black she-cat spat, “and inadequacy. Do you really expect us to believe that this choice of yours wasn’t motivated by the fact that you didn’t think you could properly do your job?”
Lightning crackled in the space around the three cats, and a few of the starry flowers burst apart. “Watch yourself,” Canopus snarled. His voice vibrated the air. “I remain calm only because it is unseemly for a zodiac to fight with a mere spirit.”
“I thought you didn’t have ‘petty emotions,’” the black cat said bluntly.
The brightly illuminated stars that represented Canopus’s eyes dimmed slightly, as if he was glaring, but he said nothing.
“Bunnystar is correct, isn’t she?” The tom prodded gently. “Why try and force Ravenfrost into taking the mantle of your champion?”
“It is not unusual for a zodiac to do so,” Canopus growled back. “Every champion has been nurtured in the shadows. Do you think those cats who are paragons of joy, life, knowledge – do you honestly think we had no part in that?”
“That’s different!” Bunnystar’s tail lashed back and forth as her fur began to prickle. The silver tom watched her from the corner of his eye but said nothing as she continued, “Ravenfrost has suffered so much because of what you put him through – and he would’ve suffered more if you had gotten your way! How can that compare to those lucky few blessed by the zodiacs?!”
“Misery is essential,” Canopus said coldly. Ice formed in the air around the cats, though the delicate snowflakes melted away moments later. “Those monsters within the darkened forest will use every trick they can to get through the barrier between their world and ours. How can a cat who has known nothing but love and peace stand in their way? They cannot. My champion must know suffering. He must not hold pity nor love for any of the creatures that may crawl from that place, even if they once were cats he knew.”
Silence reigned for a few moments. However, if Canopus thought it was a thoughtful reverie, he was severely mistaken. Almost as quickly as it fell, the silence was shattered as the black she-cat gave a vicious caterwaul and launched herself at Canopus.
The fight was brief, but it was more than long enough. With bared fangs and outstretched claws, Bunnystar tore and bit at any part of the zodiac that she could. Golden blood dripped from the tears in his celestial pelt, hissing as it touched Bunnystar’s skin. She was so absorbed in her attack that she didn’t even seem to notice. Once the shock wore off, Canopus bellowed his rage and threw the she-cat so hard she hit the cherry tree and went limp.
Just as Canopus approached, obsidian fangs bared, to finish the fight, the air split with an aurora. It forced Canopus to stop before twisting and writhing until it formed the shape of a white cat. Soft purple eyes blinked open, and a melodic voice said, “I’m disappointed in you. Leave.”
Canopus’s starry form shimmered for a moment before disappearing entirely, and the white cat turned to Bunnystar. The she-cat staggered to her paws, helped by the silvery tom, and both spirits turned to face the newcomer.
“… Sirius,” the silver tom murmured and lowered his head.
“Well met, Snowbloom. Please rise. My child has done more harm than good to you.” Sirius’s voice was filled with sorrow. “That child you left behind…”
“Are you going to tell me his fate is set too?” Bunnystar spat as she regained her footing. “Are you saying he’s doomed to be that idiot’s champion forever?”
“The fate of cats isn’t so easily changed,” Sirius replied calmly, almost apologetically.
“Then what use are you?!” Bunnystar shrieked.
“Is there truly nothing we can do?” Snowbloom asked, stepping between his companion and Sirius. “Please… Ravenfrost doesn’t deserve that fate.”
“… perhaps, perhaps,” Sirius said softly. “But it will take both of you to ensure it. Canopus is… misguided. His heart has been hardened in these many years we have lain in wait. Please, forgive him.”
“No.” Bunnystar didn’t hesitate with her answer.
“… I will not either,” Snowbloom said softly. “But I will do whatever it takes to help free that child from the chains of destiny that were unfairly put around his neck.”
“Then,” Sirius’s voice was sad, “I’m afraid misery awaits you.”
“So be it.”