Roseshade slowly entered into the prison, carrying a young hare with her for her uncle. He was imprisoned even before she had been brought to WinterClan. She knew the story, but the tom had never been anything but kind to her "Frigidpaw" she greeted, with a warmth reserved for a select few in her inner circle of trust. She touched her nose to his cheek "I brought you something to eat, Fervidsummer... she has had her paws full over the past few days" she sat the hare down at his paws, taking a step back so that he could eat. 

She wanted to make sure he had something to eat before she shared the bad news, but she wasn't doing a very good job of hiding her own despair. They way here eyes were red and puffy, her disheveled coat, the moisture glistening at the corners of her eyes. pao Cleaver

Roseshade settled down onto the cold stone, giving a wary glance back at Robinring who loomed behind her. He claimed that it was for her own good, but she had been down in these prisons since she was a kit. She didn't fear these cats, only pitied them. "I have some bad news that I need to share with you..." she paused, her breath hitching "Brindlemist has passed on.... She..." the brightly colored witch swallowed hard "She died while giving birth, there was nothing I could do...."pao 

"It was my fault...." the overwhelming amount of guilt that had been weighing on her shoulders smashing down upon her. She hadn't admitted it, not until this moment "I should have sent for Amberbird sooner, I thought I could handle the kitting on my own" she had attended a few birth before this one, but none of them had any complications. Not the way this one had gone "Maybe he could have saved her, done some procedure I hadn't been taught. Spoke to StarClan that he believes so strongly in... Something.... anything would have been more than I had done. All I could do was sit there and watch as the life drained from her eyes, tremble as he strength waned, murmur soft words as she slowly gave up her grip on life. She knew she was dying"

Roseshade let her muzzle fall into her uncle's fur, almost forgetting that  Robinring was there. Saying words that she would normally have never spoken in front of him "It was my fault..." pao Cleaver

"A better medicine cat would have been able to save her...." her voice was quieter now, simply holding onto her uncle as they cried with each other. The feeling of watching Brindlemist fading away had been worse than when she had been knocking at death's door. At least then a wave of peace and acceptance had come over her, as she had let go. This was different. Being constantly one edge, as the scene played over and over again in her mind. The helplessness, lack of control, and the fear that at any moment the rise and fall of her side would stop 

That was it

Something snapped within her, as she went from one extreme to another. One moment she was curled up sobbing, the next in a blind fury. She leapt at Robinring intent on the kill.Brindlemist had trusted him, befriended him, and here he was spitting on her memory. Roseshade could take it no longer, blinded by grief and anger as she let it take over. 

Robinring snarled as Roseshade slammed into him. The small tom was knocked clean off his paws, but he didn't stay down for long; he jerked to the side before she could strike again and nimbly sprang back to his feet. "Finally," he muttered, "you've got some sense back." She had been empty for so long since her sister died he was wondering just how far he could push before her fire returned.

He remained light on his paws, ready for the next attack, but at the god's order, settled. Robinring sat down and twisted to begin grooming his scuffed-up fur, leaving Borealis and Roseshade to their discussion. A thin tendril of blood wound down his neck from a nick behind his ear, but the scrapes she had left him were minor. The god had intervened at just the right time.

His eyes narrowed even more, the otherworldly glean darkening, “would you care to explain what exactly is going on that bloodshed is being split inside the home I’ve provided for all of you? And who are you to deem someone unworthy, Roseshade? You, who can not hold fit to your words and must be cursed to even follow the laws commanding you? You, who battles your chosen mate, one I selected for you at that, at every step of the way. Tell me, Roseshade just what makes you deserving of deeming someone else worthy?” He was growing tired of this little rebellion of hers, and would not allow it any longer. The Lord of Life had brought despair to her in many instances, even talking her sister form her and yet that wasn’t enough to curve her ways even the slightest. If a sister is not enough, if personal punishment is not enough, if attempting to give her happiness during her struggles of a new role through a supportive lover is not enough, then so be it. He would place her problems on others, maybe then it will be enough. For if it was big there was only one choice he had left and he did not wish to do so as it would mean chooses yet another to take her place as Witch. Blackpaw may be a fine choice as a pupil but the student was by no means ready for the role of Warlock, and so another would be appointed to teach him, maybe even the medicine cat currently teaching Roseshade. Yes, he thought, that would be an acceptable replacement until Blackpaw is ready if the need arises.

His frown did not waver, his eyes stayed narrowed, and his form unmoving as though frozen in time. But he heard her words loud and clear. She was displeased with all he’d done, finding his gift of a lover as a nuisance and his curse for her own behavior unacceptable. His Witch understood little and yet believed herself older and wiser than the lights themselves. She stood before him cursing his name, raging her anger and grief, placing blame and flinging spite at all who cross her path. Acting just as she stated he was, in anger and wanting of control. In another time, he would be proud to see the fire in her, to see life still in his chosen Witch after the death of her closest family member. To see her struggle and make it through time and again with her fire ignited and her head held high. But that was not what he felt in this moment. Through all she said, and all she did, and all she felt, Lord Borealis of the Northern Lights merely stood there. He did not move, he did not smile in glee or roar in rage, he did not so much as blink his crystal eyes in the time she voiced her words and anger and grief. Even in the moments that followed, he did nothing more than stand just as he had when he’d first arrived.

Marriages no one wanted? Were his choices worse than some parents made? He’d seen the matches made by parents, the hopes they had for cats who didn’t even love each other let alone like one another. He saw the fates those pairings created, the hate and turmoil and grief they caused. It created true darkness in life and so he made his own matches. Showed them to the knight of the wise as signs and dreams and hints, laid forth a better chance, a chance for love and light and laughter. They did not always come to be for other influences sometimes triumphed his subtle gestures. But he did attempt to find his followers happiness. Clearly, she did not see that, maybe no one did, but that was where faith came in. Faith she did not possess for him.

Then there was the matter of her curse. Innocents killed for the guidance of faith. Little did she know those deaths were already fortold. He did not control death but granted life. Normally, he would attempt to make his followers’ deaths easier if possible. It didn’t always work, for death did not like to be defied, but in the matter of her curse he did not bother to try, for if maybe she saw what he could grant, a more merciful ending of life, then she would understand. But that was not to be. She even missed the full meaning behind the final death in her curse and the mercy he granted her family. In truth, the kits of Brindlemist should have died with her, but he’d lead Frevidsummer to the idea of Amberbird moons ago and given them a chance at life. But in the end, all she saw was the despair it all caused her. She did not find faith or condolence or understanding in anything but anger. 

The was no more he could teach her, no other options he had to try and lead her to him. He tried to show her his ways, subtle in areas but enough to not interfere to heavily with the life of the cats of WinterClan. The God did not believe in heavy influence or meddling as it lead to situations like the Sun God, one killed by his own followers, disgraced and hated by many across the lands, and feared by their own followers. Too much meddling and they no longer relied on theirselves, something that would cause them to die quickly in the frozen mountain lands of their home. But he saw futures and possibilities and tried to help by showing them or hinting toward them, bringing them slivers of happiness and light in the cold mountain. Little ways, like making sure the rumor of Amberbird makes it way all the way to the top of the mountain if the cats of WinterClan where previously it would not have. 

God of Light, God of Life, of Prophecy, of Healing, of Hope. All are Lord Borealis, and Borealis is all, born from the northern lights that have stretched long before these cats stepped paw on the mountain, awaiting for his day to appear before his chosen clan. A God by many titles, many abilities, and yet none we’re enough to get through to her, to his chosen Witch. To show her why she should have faith in him, the God who assisted and guided and cared for her clan. Lord Borealis would not raise the dead to bring back her dear sister as she would so desire, for once one had left to the lights they could not fully return to life. A glimpse here and there, a dream, a ghost, a faint whisper on the winds of the mountain, but a return to waking life. Gazing upon Roseshade now, he knew that was her heart’s desire. To have her sister back, to be free of her calling, of her curse, to be free. And so he would grant it, one final gift.

“Very well.” The God rose to his full height, towering over those in the den, his night sky black fur flickered and wavered with the presence of the northern lights shifting over it. It was as though the sky itself had stepped upon the land and walked upon the ice and snow. Blue to green to purple moved across his fur, mixing and shifting and waving just as they did in the night sky over the mountain. Though his eyes were light in color, like a clear crystal, they shown with remorse, despair, tiredness, and loss. He had lost his Witch, and he would bow in defeat. The God took one last look upon her, fixing his gaze from her to Frigidpaw, to Robinring before landing in her one last time.

“Very well.” A sigh, a breath a released, gentle like the winds of the mountain were blowing through the den they stood in. His fur brighten in color and his words came across as crips night air. “I, Lord Borealis, Guardian and God of this clan upon the frozen mountain, release you from all your bonds. Your marriage, your position, and your curse. You are released from all, free to leave and wander and live as you please. Take refuge in WinterClan still, or leave the mountain, keep your lover or leave him behind, remain in your role or legacy it for another. It is all your choice. I take hope that you use this gift wisely. Your bonds are cut free.” And with that he faded. The colors of the northern lights slowly left his fur until it was darkness in the den, stealing even the bit of light they had before he arrived. And slowly yet, it return, as though he had never stepped into the den at all. The God was gone, disappeared as quickly as he had arrived and a hollowness filled the room.

Robinring was silent in the presence of the god — out of respect, then shock, then surging anger. For the first time since Roseshade has met him, his stone cold expression cracked. His lips drew back in a furious snarl, his brows crashed together like dueling warriors, and he whipped around with his claws sank deep into the soil and his back to Roseshade.

He could not have cared less for her in that moment; his outrage was not for her.

“Get back here, you pathetic coward, Borealis!” Robinring yowled. If his former mate’s anger could break the Lord, his would bring him back. “Don’t you dare turn away from me.” The small tom circled, glaring up at the roof of the den. “Get down here, now.”