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  • “I have sinned, for I have betrayed innocent blood.”

    Judas, Matthew 27:3-5

    PART ONE

    At the onset of the plague, WindClan fared surprisingly well. Of the seven cats sent to the gathering, six were infected and were quickly quarantined in the tunnels by WindClan’s seasoned and knowledgeable medicine cat Branchedheart. In this way, further infection was nipped in the bud, and it seemed like disaster had been averted.

    The seventh cat was an asymptomatic carrier. Believed not to have been infected, he remained in the camp and was not quarantined. His name was Viperlark.

    But now, people know him better as Judas.

    It was he who spread the infection throughout WindClan, and in the cold, exposed hills and moor WindClan died a painful, slow, death. Caught off guard due to thinking that the illness had been contained, cases rapidly racked up until the situation was simply untenable.

    The remaining uninfected were dispersed into three groups. One would head deep into the Twolegplace, hoping to hide until things calmed down and they could eventually return. The second group would head upwards, passing through the tunnels into ThunderClan territory and towards the Moonpool, where the sacred ground there was rumored to hold bountiful prey and could sustain them for a good amount of time until they too, could return.

    The third group would stay.

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  • PART TWO

    This group consisted of Viperlark, Branchedheart, and the WindClan leader Palestar. Each had their reasons for staying. Viperlark’s reason was his family- more specifically, his brother, who had been one of the original cats who’d gone to the gathering and gotten infected. He’d managed to stay alive the longest out of the infected, and Branchedheart wanted to stay behind to study him and see if a treatment could be procured, as well as why the clan had gotten infected in the first place after their quarantine. Palestar simply couldn’t bring himself to desert his home.

    But a cure was impossible, and after Branchedheart tried every possible remedy he realized this sobering truth. And with him spending so much time in such proximity with an infected patient, he too had caught the illness.

    Before he died, though he did one last deed as a medicine cat. Doing what he thought would be the best thing for his compatriots, he contaminated prey with infected materiel and gave it to them, hoping that it would cause a quick death instead of allowing them to suffer alone in a barren world.

    Palestar yielded easily, as though he knew his time was up. Viperlark never did, and Branchedheart finally found the reason why WindClan was destroyed.

    With his dying breath, he told the warrior the truth. That he was a carrier of the plague, who was singlehandedly responsible for murdering every single one of his family and friends. His clanmates.

    Crushed by guilt and shame from this staggering realization, Viperlark was driven mad, succumbing to insanity. Renouncing his old name, he remembered an old elder’s tale, about a cat who’d betrayed his leader and friends and caused their deaths. The name of the cat in that legend was Judas, and now that name was his.

    But that guilt and shame turned into anger and fury. How dare Branchedheart not tell him earlier? Why didn’t he himself realize? Why was he chosen as a carrier? Why was he still alive, when the plague should have ripped him apart weeks ago?

    It must be a sign. A divine sign, from a god. Yes, yes! That was it. Indeed, the plague itself must also be a sign! The land- it had become too corrupt, too poisoned. And the plague had cleansed that land, made it pure and perfect once more.

    But that new land needed wardens and caretakers, to make sure that it never became so polluted and tainted ever again. He alone couldn’t do it by himself. He would need followers, people who would obey his and his god’s commands. To kill for him, to die for him if needed.

    And so, the Sacred Gale was formed.

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