Cold Mountain

''Dedicated to a friend, right here on WSW Never leave us, old friend''

Prologue
No-one can hear you scream, if you're considered a freak. Nightfrost knew this. He knew he was a freak. What other cats did he know that could see dead cats wandering around as ghosts, just like they were before they died? None. Every other cat stayed away from him; no cat would believe, or listen to him.

But that was before. And in the past. Now, he was dying, alone, cold, and in a blizzard.

Or was he dead already, fated to an eternal half-life of misery, like every other deceased cat he could see?

He thought that he could hear laughter, he was near certain, but he knew who it would be. He knew the blizzard would cease eventually, and he would be left to wander the mountains, alone, alone forever.

One day I will return to the Clans, he vowwed, And one day I will show them my story.

He did tell his story, and he became a legend, famed for many generations.

This is his tale.

Chapter 1
"Oh, look, it's Nightfrost the I can see dead cats!" the tom laughed, his friends, followers laughing too. Nightfrost walked away, like he did every time. At first he had flinched, hidden his head in shame. Now he had learnt to ignore them.

He wandered out into the forest, wondering if his ancient ThunderClan ancestors had been able to see like him. He had heard rumours that the ancient cats believed in a StarClan, a heaven where all the dead lived until they were forgotton. He thought it was a nice thought, but the truth was, it wasn't real.

As he got deeper into the woods, the sad souls pressed in around him, screaming, crying, begging him to help them. He ignored the weaker ones though; some of the spirits were more faded, less remembered, more like a ghost. He was going to his tree hollow, a place where he sat, and helped some of the spirits; only the strongest could talk to him for a while.

He entered the clearing where his hollow tree was, and noticed not many spirits were around. That's strange... Usually there were cats crammed into the clearing, ready to spill their problems. He looked around again, confused, and grunted. Padding into the tree, he felt a spirit follow. Sighing, he prepared for the day's comforting dead cats.

"Hello, Nightfrost," He turned around to see fire in the shadows. The shadow morphed and twisted, and a smoke grey she-cat formed around firey eyes. "Want to hear my problems?" He blinked, startled. What is going on?

"I guess that's my job." A shiver ran down his spine, and without realising it, his fur was spiked up.

"Relax, sweetie," she smiled crookedly. "You see, my problem, is that I may have fallen in love..."

He listened absently as she rambled on about this tom, he was strong, brave, black tabby, with lovely green eyes, and ... A thought came over him, that she had perfectly described his appearance. He cast it off; there were many, many deceased wanderers, there must be more than one black tabby.

"Thank you, sweetie. I'll see you tomorrow." She smiled, and he watched as she faded away.

Chapter 2
As promised, the mottled she-cat was awaiting Nightfrost the next day. Nightfrost smiled happily, and asked some questions of his own. "Who are you, exactly? What is your name?" She laughed, a pearly, pleasant laugh.

"Why, sweetie, didn't you know? I am one of the oldest wanderers; I am from the first days of the forest. I witnessed, I was in the fall of StarClan, and the ascencion of the spirits, and I was one of the first to discover a way out of depression. But I only give my name to mortal cats whom I trust," Nightfrost crumpled his eyebrows in confusion. I'm not the only one who can see these spirits? As if she had heard his thoughts, she replied to his question. "There have been many, many others like you, able to see us spirits. But you are the only one at the moment. And I trust you," She sat down next to him, and whispered in his ear. "My name is lost to memory, all but mine. Others spirits call me the Shadow, but for you, sweetie, I shall share my true name. Smokeflight."

The name seemed powerful to him, and yet he knew he would keep it secret. "I would like to know more about the ancient times, about StarClan, and the legendary Firestar. Are the myths all true?" He really did want to know; he had always been the one to want to know about history as a kit.

"All stories are true, or contain elements of truth. I shall tell you these things, but I must ask one thing. I am afraid you shall laugh and scorn me," she seemed afraid, and Nightfrost wanted to comfort her. "But, you see, I have fallen in love. Oh, Nightfrost, did you not realise? The cat I love - is you." Nightfrost was speechless, and yet his heart felt inflated, rising above the treetops, green as green.

"I... I think I love you too..." he stammered. Her face radiated happiness, and her fur seemed to be more solid than ever before. She brushed her tail along his spine, and he jumped, as if he had been struck by lightning. "How...?"

"You are special, my love; love is the key to living again, to being as if you are real. And this love is oh, so real!" Nightfrost agreed; he would, now he knew that their love was true, do almost anything for the stunning she-cat. "Will you come with me? To the mountains, where we can live, together, forever, and watch our kits, and their kits. We could make a Clan; anything for you, sweetie." He thought for a heartbeat, thinking of home.

"Why would I want to stay? I have no-one back in ThunderClan, no-one at all. And with you, I have all I could ever want. Let us go, let us go now. Oh, Smokeflight, I love you!" She touched his shoulder with her nose, and together they set off on the journey. Night was falling, and Nightfrost looked back once; he was never going back, he'd not miss it one bit.

He would find out he would wish he'd stayed.

Chapter 3
As the forest thinned, and the moorlands stretched ahead, the mountain where they were headed loomed, taller than anything Nightfrost had ever seen. Dark clouds swirled and raged to the top, and the whole thing was a faded blue colour, as if the sky was hugging it tightly. Nightfrost stared in awe; it was the most beautiful, yet most frightening thing he'd ever seen.

"I never imagined it to be... I never thought... I..." Smokeflight smiled kindly.

"It is still a way off. We'd better hurry to make it there before the winte- I mean Leafbare winds and snow stop us from getting up there." Nightfrost didn't think about the strange word she had used for Leafbare; he merely let it float from his mind as snow would on a Leafbare breeze.

The moors were vast; grass and green hills stretched far before them. The grass had started to wither and die, Leaf-fall was taking hold and blotting out the last rays of Greenleaf sun. Nightfrost had always fancied being in WindClan, now he knew he'd never fit in. He found the lack of trees and prey unnerving, unusual, unnatural. Yet Smokeflight seemed as good a hunter as any WindClan cat, and they lay under the stars, fully fed, to sleep through another night.

"What's the mountain like?" Nightfrost asked his mate, and she told him. She strung tales of bitter Leafbare snow that could lead a travelling cat astray, and to his death. She told of the stunning scenery that could be seen from the very top, the rolling hills, the tiny trees, the clouds below.

"Higher than the clouds?" he scoffed. Nothing could be higher than the clouds.

"Yes, sweetie, it is. But it is worth it." And he believed her. Why would she lie? he asked himself. I trust her with my life, and all these things, they sound somewhat reasonable, I guess.

The stars flickered above, many, many stars, almost one for every pawstep of their journey.

Chapter 4
The mountain seemed higher than ever now they were at it's foot. A snowstorm was brewing at the tip, so Smokeflight said. She said that they had to push on, and that they would be caught in the snow and likely freeze to death if they did not reach where they were going. She led the way, and Nightfrost humbly followed, like a lamb to slaughter. The treacherous, rocky mountain paths were hard to climb, and Nightfrost feared death at more than one point.

Smokeflight slid over a thin ledge, hanging over a deep, endless gorge. Nightfrost followed, his heart twisting as he heard the screams of the ghostly spirits, trapped down there for eternity. He closed his eyes and padded swiftly on. Night was falling, and they stopped in a small, shadow-filled cave.

"Nightfrost," Smokeflight had her back turned to the tom, and he could hardly see her in the swirling darkness.

"What is it, Smokeflight? Is something wrong?" She turned towards him; he could now see the fire of her eyes burning the dark away.

"Nothing is wrong, exactly, sweetie. I just have something to tell you. My love, Nightfrost, I-I'm expecting kits." Nightfrost was shocked for a second, and then licked his mate's nose.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" He was happier than he had ever been; he was on top of the world. As he laid half-conscious on the hard floor he thought he heard voices, whispering. He heard his name - or did he? He was not really paying attention as the clutches of dreams grasped him, carrying him away into the fields of sleep and peace. Peace that would not last long.

Chapter 5
It was getting harder to go on, harder to breath, harder to think in a straight line. "We are nearing where will shall stay" Smokeflight announced, as the first wisps of snow started to fall. Nightfrost stared to become excited; they were nearly at the place where they would live forever, and raise their kits: maybe even their kits kits.

A large cave stood out against the greyness of the stone. Sharp teeth of rock hung down from the roof of the cave, and the depths within were hidden by the blotchy, engulfing shadows. "Come on, sweetie. This is it. Our home." Nightfrost entered in awe, and glee. This is where my kits will live and grow, and this is where I will live forever.

Nightfrost lay down for his first night in his new eternity, and Smokeflight excused herself to make dirt. He settled down, blissfully, when he heard the voices again. And this time he listened.

Are you sure, my love?

Yes...he is...He is completely fooled...influence...

Then...shall wait...soon Puzzled, Nightfrost got to his paws, and started padding outside. But then he realised the voices were ones he knew. He stopped, and listened.

''He is unsuspecting, I swear. He is totally believing''.

''Aren't they always? Having kits...'' The tom, for that was the unknown voice, laughed.

Suddenly, it clicked. Nightfrost knew, oh he knew, and he knew he had been so stupid, so lonely and stupid to believe anything. He stormed out, and as he expected Smokefrost, and a cat were curled up, whispering about him.

"Hello, sweetie,"

Chapter 6
The two ghosts pushed Nightfrost roughly into the cave; he stumbled and fell. "Yes, you guessed. Every few generations a seer like you appears. Usually so lonely, so depressed, they fall into my paws like soft moss: playthings in my paws,"

The blizzard raged, it suddenly had started falling like ash from a fire. "Yes, you are not the first. I am ancient, as old as Firestar's forest. I was there at the fall of StarClan and the ascension of the Dark. I was there at the dissolving and rebirth of the Clans, and I was there during the great war. Of course, I was not alive the whole time, but the Dark Forest's rise made us spirits like this. And now I have learnt how to gain true form, to be immortal. Shadowstorm and I shall live forever, and you are the key. Run. Run!" she shouted, eyes blazing.

Nightfrost was scared. He could run, but where would he go? It was blank out there, chances that he would fall to his death were high. "I will die if I go out there." he said with courage. Faked courage.

"Yes you will. Don't you see? Hidden in the secretive Myths of Tigerstar were hints of how to come back. I have studied them, and discovered a number. Seventeen. And guess your number? Now I will live forever!" Nightfrost was trapped, and then free; Shadowstorm grabbed his scruff and shoved him out into the storm of snow. The tom was blinded by the whiteness, and stumbled around, disorientated, lost, alone.

Falling... Suddenly falling. Freedom, freedom from the ties of life. Freedom from his pains. Freedom for his enemies. But he did not care. Crunch, snap, breaking, and Nightfrost was lighter than air. But alone. Alone forever, trapped with his last memory.

Laughter. Evil laughter.