Author's Note: So, Hollyleaf died. I will never forgive Erin Hunter for that. Ever. She was to me in Warriors like Asami to LoK.

...And none of you got that allusion, right? Put this fic down right now and go watch Avatar/Legend of Korra on Vimeo or Nick if you haven't already. It's so good that it broke your ratings scale of 1 to 10 and became a fucking 20. All the other animations can go home and cry at how good that series is.

And then, of course, read this and above all, please enjoy! :)

The Legend Reborn

prologue
chapter—zero

leaves to the wind

Long ago, before the Clans, before the warrior cats roamed the lush forests, before even the Ancients set foot on the shores of the rippling silver lake, there reigned the Spirits of the Stars.

Eighty-eight of them there were in total, but in the end, it narrowed down to twelve who held dominion over the rest. And these twelve Spirits quarreled much. Not a moment passed between them when there was not some petty argument they were locked in.

Until at last, a certain, unknown situation escalated to the point where there was war between the twelve. It is said that one's life had been attempted against it—an irrevocable declaration of battle. Each of the remaining seventy-six lesser Spirits were forced to choose a faction. As this terrible conflict raged on, eight were eliminated and absorbed into the forces of the remaining four Spirits, who were known as the Lynx, the Tiger, the Lion, and finally, the Panther.

And it remained this way for ages uncounted. The lake ran liquid silver with the immortal blood of the Spirits; patches of the majestic forest lay about in smoking, lifeless black patches that smoldered incessantly, releasing putrid black smoke into the air that made it difficult to breathe. The windy plains were stripped of what little life there was, all forms of vegetation uprooted and left to rot. The rivers wept into the tainted lake, crying tears of dismay for what has become of this once-beautiful place.

And yet, the four Spirits fought on without regard to the destruction they ravaged across the land. And they would have continued, still fighting over the objection that had thrown them into such a frenzy ages ago.

But to reasons unknown, they vanished, but only after a prophecy like no other had been laid down by the tired Spirits of the Earth and Sea, and it goes as such.

There will be twelve, warriors each, who the Spirits choose as their own.

There will be four of the twelve, descendants all, to which they will protect or raze.

As fire to the rain,

Clouds to the earth.

Peace to the bolts,

And leaves to the wind.