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Her footfalls are clumsy and loud, but no one notices.
A twelve-year-old Clarke Griffin presses herself against the wall separating her from the living room. The wall is cold but it barely registers on her mind, focused as she is on keeping her eyes and ears trained instead. Her parents are arguing in harsh whispers.
Her nose twitches as she squints past the brightness. The air smells sterile even in the comfort of her home, but it is the only smell Clarke has ever known. Still, she doesn’t think she’ll ever grow to like it.
“You know what the consequences will be.”
“Yes, but everyone deserves to know.” Her father’s tone is insistent but pleading. “Before it’s too late.”
It’s been like this for the past week. Her parents will smile and laugh when she’s around like nothing is amiss, but she notices the tensed lines around her mother’s eyes and stifling silence that has begun to grow increasingly common.
Children always notice.
It all started the day her father had come home after a routine check of the oxygen recycling system, looking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Abby’s hand clenches around the edge of the table. “We can’t have everyone panicking until we find a solution.”
Jake smiles. Even with only a single eye peeking into the room, Clarke can tell that it is forlorn. Her father always wears his emotions on his sleeves. She picked it up from him after all. “There isn’t a solution Abby,” he says. He places an arm on his wife’s shoulder. “We’ll run out of oxygen within the next six years no matter what we do. But if we tell everyone now, we can buy us more time.”
“More time to do what?” Abby closes her eyes. Her knuckles turn white and begin to lightly shake from the strength of her grip. “You just said that there isn’t a solution.”
“More time to find out if Earth is survivable.”
There is a long period of silence after that. Abby shakes Jake’s hand off and turns. Clarke throws herself further behind the cover of the wall.
“That’s up to the council to decide Jake.”
“But Abby-”
“That’s not up for discussion.”
Her mother begins to walk towards her direction and Clarke hurries back to her bed. She quickly throws the blanket over herself and turns to face the wall. Clarke counts to five seconds before a soft hiss signals that the door to her room has opened and along with it, a few stray rays of light stream into her room.
Abby stands at the doorway for a few long seconds and Clarke wills herself to stay as still as possible. Finally, she turns to leave and closes the door behind her.
Clarke waits for a beat before allowing her body to relax and turn onto her back, staring soundlessly at the ceiling. Her mother’s footsteps have faded down the corridor before she allows her eyes to close and clutch the blanket tighter around her. Her mind buzzes with the information she’d just learned.
Her father is right, a voice whispers insistently in her mind.
The people of the Ark deserve to know.
//
Mrs. Rose guides her down the corridor with a firm grip on her shoulder and quick strides and Clarke does her best to keep up.
Their footsteps echo down the empty corridor as they made their way to the Griffin’s unit. This time of the day, everyone of age is supposed to be at their assigned jobs and the children would be either at school or at the single childcare centre aboard the Ark. The maze of corridors and rooms that made up the residential sector of the Ark was empty save for the two of them as well as Abby and Jake, who would no doubt have been contacted by now.
Clarke’s heartbeat gradually speeds up as they near her family’s unit and when Mrs. Rose presses on the doorbell, Clarke’s heart was attempting its escape from her chest with fervour, insistently slamming against her ribcage.
She hides partially behind her teacher and only hesitantly peeks out when her mother invites Mrs. Rose in.
Her mother is exasperated and her father sneaks her a reassuring smile, but both their faces quickly turn grim.
When the teacher tells her parents about her ‘spreading rumors and scaring her classmates’, her mother’s brows are furrowed and her fingers grip so tightly on the material of her doctor’s coat that Clarke almost thinks it’ll tear. She knows she’ll get a scolding later, but she’s never had any real discipline problems before and everything should turn out fine.
It is when she’s sent to her room without a word from her mother that Clarke knows that things aren’t going to be okay.
She is huddled in her bed when the shouting starts.
“Look at what you’ve done, Jake!”
She pulls the blanket over herself as she eyes start to water.
“You should have dropped the issue and let the council handle it!”
She should have kept her mouth shut. But everyone on the Ark deserves to know the truth, don’t they?
“Is it worth the life of your daughter?”
She falls asleep with tears in her eyes before the shouting stops.
//
Her father wakes her up with gentle shakes.
“Dad?” She murmurs sleepily, rubbing at her eyes. Her voice croaks slightly. The lights are off and she can only vaguely make out the outline of her father in the darkness.
“It’s me, kid,” he whispers reassuringly. “You’ve got to stay quiet okay? Get dressed in your warmest clothes quickly. I’ll wait for you outside your room.”
Clarke nods shakily. Her mind is still muddled by sleep and it takes a moment before she’s able to drag herself out of her bed. She changes quickly and briefly hesitates before grabbing a jacket and heading out of the room.
There is a light hiss as the door opens. Jake reaches for her arm and gently guides her outside. The lights are blinding and she blinks quickly to readjust.
“Where’s mom?” she asks. Her father is leading her down the corridor towards the far end of the Ark. They pass a door with the sign ‘for authorized personnel only’ before Jake shakes his head. “Asleep.”
She doesn’t know what time it is, but it’s late enough that they don’t bump into anyone else on the way. Jake has a large backpack clutched in his other hand and a steely determination in his eyes.
“Where are we going?” The machinery seems to get older the further they walk along. Clarke thinks that she’s just imagining things, but they get rustier and less well-maintained. She doesn’t think that people have been in this part of the Ark in quite a while.
Jake doesn’t respond to her question but asks, “Do you want to see what a drop ship looks like Clarke?”
She nods eagerly but doesn’t miss the sudden expression that flashes across her father’s face. There is sadness mixed with regret and longing and she quickly looks away feeling overwhelmed.
Jake swipes a card at the sensor. There is a long pause before the sensor flashes green and the door opens with a groan. The light flickers into life and Clarke stares with muted surprise into the room.
Jake pushes her into the abandoned docks with a chuckle. “You’ll catch flies, kid.” There aren’t any insects on the Ark, but more than a few olden sayings have survived the nuclear bombs. The door closes behind them but she hardly notices, caught up in looking around wide-eyed. A few beeping sounds capture her attention and she turns to see her father starting up the computers.
“What’s going on that?” She asks. It comes out as a whisper, but Jake Griffin catches it in the silence of the room. His shoulder is tense and there is a stretch of silence before he turns and beckons her over.
“Clarke, have you ever wondered what the Earth looks like?”
There is a pang in her chest. She wants her father to tell her that everything is going to be all right, but her father has never lied to her, not even when she desperately needs him to.
Jake fiddles with the strap of his watch before pulling it off his wrist. He reaches for Clarke’s arm and straps it on. The watch is too large for her wrist but he grins. “One day it’ll fit you just right,” he says. The computer beeps again and he turns to key in a passcode.
“The Ark isn’t safe for us anymore, Clarke.” His tone is low, but Clarke catches the sadness in them.
Emotions well up within her. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. Jake grips onto her shoulder reassuringly and smiles.
“It’s not your fault,” he says. “It had to be done. The council wasn’t going to do anything about it. Maybe now they’ll finally be forced off their asses to do something.”
“So we’re leaving?” she asks. The abandoned docks are empty save for one old drop ship that doesn’t look it's been used in over a century.
Jake shakes his head. “That’s why you’re leaving, kid.”
Clarke feels her heart drop. “No dad, you have to come! They’ll float you!” Her eyes start to water but her father grips her shoulder again and bends down till they’re eye-to-eye.
“I need to stay here to launch the ship Clarke,” he tells her.
“Then I’m not going! I’m not of age yet dad, the worse they can do is lock me up!”
“You don’t know that,” he says. His brows are crease and his hands shake lightly. “The council has been floating people for crimes for years to save resources, and now we’re running out.” The Jahas may be family friends but Thelonious will do what he believes is best for his people and now it may not only be adults who are floated.
There’s a chance the air on Earth is toxic, or maybe she’ll be killed on impact, but that’s better odds than incarceration or floating.
Her father is wiping her face with a thumb before she realizes that she’s crying. He pulls her into a hug. “Your mother will be alright,” he promises. “She isn’t involved in any of this.”
But you won’t be, she feels like yelling. Instead, she burrows her face into his shoulder and sobs, trying to imprint the feeling of her father’s arms around her deep into her bones. A deep ache has started to take root in her chest and the pain forced the air from her lungs.
“We don’t have much time, Clarke,” he says, pulling away after a few moments. She wipes her face messily onto the sleeve of her jacket and nods.
The metal hull is streaked with rust and the seats creak with old age, but Jake Griffin straps his daughter in with shaky hands. “You’ll be okay, kid,” he says. “Remember to head for Mount Weather and radio in. The map’s in the backpack together with a week’s worth of rations, a medical kit, and a survival kit.”
Clarke thinks the ship is more likely to fall apart on re-entry, but she doesn't voice her thoughts. She nods and grips onto the safety belt tightly. The ship has the capacity to hold over a hundred but she’ll be the only one on this trip. The backpack is strapped to the seat next to her.
“Remember what you’ve learnt during Earth studies. I couldn’t get you a gun but there're a few knives in there and Clarke,” he sends her a soft, heartbroken smile and clasps her hand between his own. “You are so, so brave and your mother and I love you so much. Never forget that.”
She nods and blinks away tears as her father heads for the exit. “I love you too dad,” she says, voice cracking. “Tell mom I love her too.”
She tries to burn her father’s image into her memory and her hand grips tightly onto his watch.
“Stay strong Clarke,” he says. Emotions bleed into his voice and Clarke can see the glimmer of unshed tears in his eyes. “May we meet again.”
The door shuts with a sense of finality and bathes the ship in darkness. Clarke closes her eyes and begins to count.
A humming sound starts up and begins to grow louder.
Very faintly, she can make out sounds from the docks. “Jake Griffin, open the door now!” Her heart hammers in her chest as the muffled pounding grows louder.
She clenches her eyes even tighter as the humming grows in intensity.
One hundred and sixty, one hundred and sixty-one, one hundred and sixty-tw-
There is a sudden lurch in her stomach as she hurtles down towards the Earth. Bile crawls its way from her throat and she forces it down, suddenly immensely grateful for having skipped dinner. Her hands clutch onto the safety belt tightly and she forces herself to take in deep breaths.
The silence of space is deafening. That is something Clarke has never realized before. In the enclosed space of the Ark, there is always something happening, people talking or the hum of machinery. Here, the sound of her breathing echoes off the metallic walls of the ship and she can almost hear the beating of her heart.
Space is cold. She’s grown used to it, but suddenly the shaking of the drop ship increases and it starts to grow warm.
Has it been a minute? Five? She lost count sometime during the descent.
The drop ship seems to be slowing down, but she doesn’t know if it is slowing down fast enough. The rush of heat had faded, but her blood feels too hot and her heart is beating too fast. She’s going to crash any second now, she realizes, and she isn’t sure she’s going to survive the impact.
One moment she is moving through the air, the next there is a groan of metal bending and the impact almost makes her bite her own tongue off. The crash sends shockwaves through the ground and she hits her head hard against the headrest.
Clarke Griffin is twelve when her world ends in a rage of fire and smoke.
Her head is spinning when she opens her eyes for the first time on Earth and she is met with darkness. Is it night time, she wonders. She’s never experienced night and day, but she’s learned about it in Earth studies. Her throat burns with every breath and she realizes that the inky darkness is smoke.
Everything is too hot. She weakly grabs at the safety belt and searches along its length for the clasp, but her hands are clammy and her fingers are shaky and when she finally presses on the release, there is a dull click and nothing else.
A sense of desperation floods her and she presses the clasp harder. Still, the belt doesn’t budge.
The smoke is fuelling the dizziness in her head and the air gets thinner with each breath. She coughs as her lungs begin to seize and she wonders for a moment if this is how she dies.
It takes a moment before she notices a silver of light through the thick veil of smoke. She wonders if she is hallucinating at first, but she hears footsteps reverberating before she is grabbed and pulled out of the drop ship. The light outside is blinding and she shields her eyes with her hand. She remembers that the air may be poisonous but it doesn’t stop her from gasping for it.
Oxygen fills her lungs and Clarke doesn’t miss the way it smells – fresh, even when it’s tinged by smoke from the burning drop ship.
She hears noises that sound vaguely like words before she opens her eyes weakly. She is propped against a giant rock and she can make out the metal hull of the burning drop ship in the distance. In front of her, though, are two women.
She feels her heart speed up in a mixture of surprise and fear. There isn’t supposed to be anyone on Earth.
Her teachers taught her class that the bombs had wiped out everyone on Earth. The survivors of the Ark should be the last of humanity.
The taller of the two has long blond hair and sharp, angular features. She is clad in dark leather and glares down at her menacingly. The other woman – girl, she realizes upon second look – is a brunette dressed similarly. She wears a softer expression and peers at her in curiosity.
Clarke jaw nearly drops when she realizes that there is what looks to be a sword strapped to the woman’s hip. The curve of a bow peeks out from behind her back.
The blonde-haired woman hisses words at her in a foreign tongue. There is a gleam in her eyes that send shivers down Clarke's spine and her hand grips the hilt of her sword in an unspoken threat. She doesn't seem that much older than herself but there is an air of danger about her that Clarke doesn't want to test.
“Please,” she croaks. “Who are you?” The woman stills and her eyes narrow. She examines Clarke carefully and the girl at her side chatters at her gleefully.
“You speak gonasleng,” the woman says. It is a statement and not a question. Gone a slang? Clarke doesn’t understand the last word but the first two are enough. She nods hurriedly and feels a wave of relief wash over her.
There is a pause before the woman rises and surveys the wreckage wordlessly. She turns her gaze on Clarke. “You will come with us. Try anything and you will regret it," she warns. She says something to the girl beside her and strides off towards the woods.
There is a long moment where the girl studies her and when Clarke catches her eyes for the first time she freezes. Her eyes are endless pools of green and she finds herself captivated by the intensity in them. The moment is broken when the girl bends slightly towards Clarke and offers an arm, a friendly grin on her face. Strapped to her back is the backpack from the ship and a sword hangs from her hips. She carries a quiver of arrows on her shoulder and her bow is tied to the backpack.
“Lexa,” she says and it takes Clarke a moment to realize that it is the girl's name.
“I'm Clarke.” She reaches for the girl's arm and lets herself be pulled from the ground.
Where am I? How did you survive? A stream of questions floods her mind but what she croaks is, “water.”
She isn’t sure if the girl understands her at first but Lexa grabs a water skin from her waist and offers it without a word. Clarke gulps down the water hungrily.
Some of the liquid drip messily down her shirt in her haste and when she returns it to Lexa, there is an amused gleam in the girl’s eyes. Clarke feels her face flush as she wipes her chin on the sleeve of her jacket. “I’m just really thirsty alright,” she defends herself.
Lexa nods but the gleam doesn’t fade. “That is alright, Clarke.” Her name comes off differently on the girl’s tongue, but Clarke finds that she doesn’t mind. The girl looks about her age and her hair hangs in loose braids. There is a quiet intelligence in her eyes that makes her look older on first glance.
She offers Clarke a soft smile before nodding towards the sprawling expanse of woods. “We must leave now. Anya is not very patient.”
Clarke nods and follows Lexa. Her eyes are wide in amazement as she takes in all the sights that she’s only ever seen in books and movies. The real thing is so much more beautiful that she had imagined. If Lexa notices her awe, she doesn’t say. Clarke takes one last look at the heap of burning metal that made up the drop ship and forces down a rising wave of emotions before turning away.
She’s led slightly ahead of the girl and it takes her a moment to realize that she’s being guarded. She nearly chortles at the thought. Sword or not, Lexa is shorter than her by at least an inch and her clothes are a size too large. Clarke has gotten into fights with other kids before and always came out on top. She should be able to hold her own.
The woman – Anya – is waiting for them at the edge of the treeline. Lexa and Anya converse in what seems to be the same foreign language before Anya turns to fix her with a glare.
“Lexa has assured me that you will not be any trouble, but if you as much as walk wrong we will bind you is that clear?”
Clarke nods hurriedly and Anya scoffs lightly before turning and making her way through the woods. She doesn’t want to test Anya’s patience. She has no doubt that the woman will keep her word and then more.
“What is that?” Lexa asks as they trail behind Anya. Clarke’s eyebrows shoot up in confusion as she turns to face the other girl. Lexa points towards her wrist.
“Oh, that’s a watch.” At Lexa’s confused expression, she elaborates, “It tells the time.” She traces the edge of it softly. It’s the only thing she has of her father to hold onto. Lexa nods and Clarke can pick out a hint of amazement in her eyes. She wonders how primitive these people she’s stumbled into are.
“We saw you fall from the sky,” Lexa says and traces a line across the sky with a finger. “We thought you were a star at first. Do you live there?” Now that the adrenaline of the crash and finding actual people on Earth had worn off, Clarke starts to pick up on the fact that Lexa probably isn’t all that experienced in English. Her words are clipped and her pronunciation is off, but Clarke can still make out the words clearly.
“Not exactly. I lived in space.”
The other girl frowns. “Space?” She tests the words on her lips.
“Beyond the sky.” Lexa nods again but the creases on her face deepen and Clarke knows she doesn’t fully comprehend what it is. “With the stars.”
Lexa hums. “That must be nice,” she says and Clarke grins at her expression of wonderment.
“It’s not always so great but it’s home.” Was home, the pang in her chest reminds her. With a start, she realizes that this is her chance. “What about you?”
Lexa looks around before pointing in a direction. “I used to live in a village to the East, but it was destroyed by the Ice Nation. Now I live in Tondisi with Anya.” Clarke wonders how she can tell the way since every tree around her looks the same.
“Ice Nation?”
Lexa nods. “We have been at war with them for many years,” she says. There is a flash of pain across her face but it vanished just as quickly as it came.
“What are your people called?”
“We are Trikru,” Lexa says proudly. “Tree people.”
Anya stops suddenly in her tracks and turns to glare at Lexa. “Stop offering information to the prisoner."
Lexa shrugs. “But Clarke is harmless.” Clarke bristles at her tone. “She has done nothing wrong.”
Anya regards her coldly and Clarke can feel her skin crawl under her intense gaze. It feels like the woman is looking into her soul. She stands a little taller and pushes her chin outwards. She’s Clarke Griffin and she isn’t going to cower under anyone. No matter how intimidating they are being.
Anya snorts and turns back to continue onwards. “She is your responsibility Lexa, if she does something wrong I will punish you both.”
Clarke struggles to keep up with her long strides. Lexa, despite the heavy backpack that Clarke remembers being nearly half her weight, has no trouble at all. “Anya always walks fast,” she explains. “If we do not keep up she will leave us behind.”
Clarke stares at Anya’s back incredulously. Still, she doesn’t have any trouble believing that.
“What are you guys doing here anyway?” she asks, struggling up a steep incline. Lexa pushes her until she’s able to find her footing.
“We were hunting.”
“Oh, so you’re hunters then?” The bows now make sense at least. She hasn’t come across any animals yet but her heart beats in excitement at the thought. She’s never seen any before.
“No, Anya is a warrior and I am her second,” Lexa declares proudly.
“What’s a second?”
Lexa frowns light as she searches for an explanation. “She teaches to become a warrior.”
“So, you’re her apprentice?” Clarke clarifies.
Lexa shrugs. “I do not know that word,” she says and Clarke falls silent in thought. She can imagine Anya wielding a sword and cutting down enemies, but Lexa is small.
“How old are you?” she asks.
Lexa blinks at her in surprise at the sudden question. “I am thirteen summers old.”
Clarke laughs and Lexa’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “I thought you were younger,” she explains. “I’m twelve, and taller than you.”
Lexa huffs, looking disgruntled. “Size is not all that matters in a fight, Clarke. It is the warrior with the stronger mind and better skills that win.” There is a pause before she adds glumly, “But I will grow taller.”
Clarke raises her arms in surrender but a smile stretches across her face. “I don’t mean any offence, but aren’t you too young to be training to be a warrior?”
“We learn self-defence from young,” Lexa says. “But we are sorted after our twelfth summer. I became a second two years early.” There is a proud smile on her face.
“Try not to make me regret that,” Anya says from the front. There is a teasing note in her voice and Clarke thinks that maybe the woman isn’t that bad after all.
Suddenly, Anya stills in her motions. Behind her, Lexa also freezes and silently reaches for her bow. Clarke scans the trees quickly as her heart hammers in her chest but there’s nothing in the trees that she can see. “What is it?” she whispers.
Anya sends her a glare that threatens physical harm if she doesn’t shut up. Clarke’s jaw snaps close immediately but she returns the glare.
Anya waves her hand in a signal and Lexa immediately crouches, silently shifting towards the front. She draws an arrow from her back and nocks it with skilful fingers. Clarke watches in silence as she takes aim and releases the arrow. Though she can’t see what is happening from the front, she hears a loud thud and her heart spikes.
What was that? An enemy? One of the Ice Nation people that Lexa had mentioned?
Anya immediately relaxes and pats Lexa on the back. “Not bad,” she says. There is pride on her face. “But aim faster next time.” Lexa accepts her words with a nod and motions for Clarke to follow them with a grin.
It is a deer.
Clarke gasps silently as she sees the animal on the ground. The tail of an arrow sticks out from its lungs and it struggles as life bleeds from it but it is no less majestic. Anya kneels in front of it with a knife and whispers something before slitting its throat. The deer wheezes its last breath before collapsing.
Lexa unwinds rope from her waist before moving forward to tie up the carcass. Anya surveys her work for a moment before turning to smirk at Clarke. “You scared off all prey within a hundred kaliks this morning and disrupted our hunt, so this one is yours to carry.”
Clarke huffs and joins Lexa with the deer.
She underestimates the weight and pulls too hard, sending her sprawling backwards. Anya laughs. Lexa tries to hide a smile but Clarke can see hints of it on the edges of her lips and she sends Lexa her best glare. The girl just shakes her head slightly with amusement in her eyes and helps pull Clarke onto her feet.
She still staggers. The deer has got to be at least a hundred pounds, which is easily more than her body weight and she struggles to pull it along the forest ground. She groans as Anya continues on her way.
“Do not worry,” Lexa says. “We are not far now.”
Lexa tells her about how Anya had punished her for skipping her duties by making her pull a deer from one of their hunts for ten kaliks without a break. When Clarke asks how far a kalik is, Lexa frowns in thought.
“It is a fifth of the distance we have travelled,” she says. Clarke figures it is roughly a mile.
She gives a hard yank to drag the deer past a few stones. Lexa helps by tugging the ropes along. “How do you keep track of distance?” she asks.
Lexa gives a shrug. “You grow used to it after a while.”
They only stop for a break once and Clarke tears hungrily into her rations – several strips of dried jerky and two packets of crackers. Anya eyes the food with distrust and Lexa studies it curiously.
Clarke tears off a piece of meat and offers it to Lexa. “Try some,” she says. Lexa reaches for it before Anya swats her arm away.
“It may be poisonous,” she warns.
Lexa shrugs. “But then Clarke would be poisoning herself.” Anya sighs in resignation and spits out something about curiosity being the death of her but doesn’t stop Lexa when she reaches for the beef jerky again.
She takes a tentative bite before nodding and biting off a larger chunk. “It is good.”
Clarke offers another piece to Anya as a peace offering. The woman eyes it warily before taking it. “Too salty,” she says and Clarke rolls her eyes. It doesn’t stop Anya from finishing it.
Lexa offers her a handful of berries and Clarke almost moans at the burst of flavour. There isn’t food like this on the Ark. Lexa laughs and passes her more.
“You will like our food,” she promises.
Lexa searches the backpack for objects.
“That’s a medical kit,” Clarke offers. She feels a pang of longing when she is suddenly reminded of her mother and the many times she had stayed in the infirmary with her after class. Lexa pokes at the gauze. “It treats wounds.”
She points out things for the rest of their break to Lexa’s awestruck interest and Anya’s guarded glances and they set off again when the Sun is at the peak of its climb. Anya is less hostile towards her but still suspicious and Clarke doesn’t blame her.
When they arrive at the tall metal gates, it is well into the afternoon.
The village is a combination of wooden houses and scrap metal. There are armed men and women clad in similar dark leathers and some wear masks of bone on the faces that send chills down Clarke’s spine. They hand the carcass over to a hunter and Clarke feels a flush of relief at finally losing the weight.
People eye her with distrust and she sees more than one person reaching to grip tightly onto the hilt of their sword. Parents shield their children away and Clarke can’t help but feel completely alienated.
Their gazes make her skin crawl and she is not sure whether to run a hide from the hostility or glare back in defiance. She settles on keeping her head high and shifting closer the Lexa. The other girl is the closest she has to a friend in this strange new world.
“They are not used to strangers,” Lexa says. Clarke follows them into a large building near the end of the village.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“To see Heda.”
//
“The Commander rules from Polis,” Lexa tells her. “But Tondisi is the war capital.”
Clarke doesn’t ask what he is here for.
The guards at the door eye her warily but let them through without question. A messenger had already been sent to inform the Heda ahead of time.
The room is medium-sized and well-lit by streams of sunlight which filter in through stained windows. A war table occupies most of the room with chairs scattered around it. At the end of a table is a throne made of wood and antlers.
A man seats on the throne, clad in thick leather with a red sash slung across his shoulder. His features are youthful but he has the eyes of someone several lifetimes older and wiser.
“So this is the girl who fell from the sky,” he says. The Commander’s powerful voice carries his words across the room easily. He leans forward slightly in this throne but makes no effort to stand and studies her impassively. “Tell me, why have you left your home and entered these lands?”
Before she can answer, an armor clad woman from the side of the room growls foreign words to the man. Her features are fierce and she directs a glare Clarke’s way so vicious it could set someone on fire. Lexa stiffens but the Commander waves the woman’s words away.
“Shof op, Indra,” he says. “Let the girl speak. I am interested to know her answer.”
Clarke clenches her fists and musters as much courage as she can before looking the man straight in the eye. “I was escaping. I didn’t know there are people still alive on Earth.”
The Commander smiles. “Escaping from whom? Invaders?” When she doesn’t respond, he adds, “or perhaps your own people?”
She nods. Besides Lexa, Anya, the Commander and the scary woman named Indra, there are several other people in the room. Two armed guards are stationed at the door, another woman and two men stand at the left of the room alongside Indra and an old woman in long robes stand at the Commander’s right. She feels the weight of all their stares at her confession along with the unavoidable question that hangs in the air.
“They want to capture me. For speaking the truth.”
“That, I can respect,” he says. Then the amusement in his gaze hardens. She expects the follow-up questions on what or even why, but his line of questioning takes a sudden turn that leaves her momentarily startled. “How many of you are there? Are more of you coming?”
“Over two thousand,” she responds after a moment’s hesitation. How much should she tell them? How many truths and how many lies? The four armour-clad men and women stiffen at her words but the Commander motions for her to continue. She thinks of the oxygen problem. The Ark will run out in six years, and Earth is the only place left to go. “No. They think the air here is poisonous. There is no reason for anyone to come to Earth.”
Indra steps out. “We cannot trust the words of the girl,” she spits. “She could be lying.”
The Commander ignores her. “Where would you have gone had we not found you?”
Clarke hesitates. “Mount Weather.”
Everyone in the room, even Anya and Lexa, stills. This time, more than one person yells to the commander. “She works with the Maunon,” one man roars. “Kill her!” The rest yell their agreement. Clarke feels her stomach drop. She’s going to die.
“Wait!” Lexa yells and Clarke is suddenly overwhelmed by a rush of gratefulness towards the other girl. All eyes fall on her and Clarke can feel Anya tense up beside her. “Clarke does not know anything!”
“Shut up girl,” Indra yells the same instant Anya hisses, “quiet.” The Commander looks at Lexa in interest and something softens in his gaze. He raises his hand to signal for silence before meeting the gazes of the armour-clad men and women. “If we do not let our children speak, who will speak for us when we are gone?” he asks. “You are Leksa, yes? Your teachers say that you are bright. Tell me, do you think this girl can be trusted?”
Lexa nods hurriedly. “Clarke has said nothing but the truth.”
A man snorts and sneers at Lexa. “We should not listen to judgement from a goufa, Heda.” The commander waves him off.
“What business do you have with the mountain?”
Clarke tries her best to stand a little taller. “I heard that there are food and supplies there.”
The commander nods. “The mountain is a dark place. There is nothing there but death and suffering and if you value your life stay clear of it.” Clarke nods slowly. Questions swim in her mind but she isn’t about to ask them in a room full of hostile warriors. “Where do you plan to go now?”
“I don’t know.”
Calls for her death are immediately raised and the woman named Indra leads it, but the old woman by the Commander’s side steps forward and the voices die down immediately. She is hunched slightly and she walks with the aid of a stick but her eyes burn in brightness. Her gaze is deep and searching and Clarke forces herself to look into her eyes.
The entire room watches silently as the woman slows to a stop before Clarke. The edges of her lips curl into a smile and she turns toward the Commander and croaks out words that Clarke does not understand.
A relieved breath escapes Lexa and even Anya seems to brighten a little. Scowls, however, are etched into the faces of the four warriors on the left. The Commander listens patiently before turning his attention back to the three of them.
“You have two choices, Klark,” he says. “You can stay, learn our ways and become one of us, or you can leave for the North.”
It’s really no choice at all.
“I’ll stay,” she says. The weight on her chest evaporates and she finds herself able to breathe easier.
The Commander smiles. It is thin and there is a warning in it. This is an act of generosity and she should not squander it. “Very well. You have one year before you undergo the tests. Pass and you will be sorted and become a member of Trikru,” he says before turning his gaze to Anya. He does not say what will happen to her if she fails. “She will be in your care.”
Anya sighs but bows in deference. “Sha, Heda.”
The commander nods towards the door and both Anya and Lexa bow before heading for the exit. Lexa drags a confused Clarke behind her.
Outside, Anya smacks Lexa on her head. Hard.
Lexa yelps and grabs at her head protectively, lightly massaging it.
“Branwada,” she scolds. Clarke doesn’t have to know their language to know that the word doesn’t have a positive connotation. “Think before you speak.”
Lexa nimbly dodges another swipe. “But if children do not learn to speak-”
Anya snorts. “Do not quote Heda to me. You are lucky he likes you for some reason, brat, or Indra would have your tongue.” She turns to Clarke and sniffs before striding away.
Lexa laughs at Clarke’s indignant expression and grabs her wrist, pulling her along. “Do not worry,” she whispers. “Anya likes you.” Clarke almost snorts. She sure has a funny way of showing it.
People give them a wide berth and suspicious glances as they walk past but Lexa does not let go of her. The crowd thins the further they walked from the village centre and soon they are alone.
“Who’s the old woman, back in the room,” she asks.
“She is a seer, our oldest.”
Clarke blinks and surprise flashes across her face. Lexa notices and her eyebrows crease into a slight frown. “Do your people not have seers?”
Clarke shakes her head. “No. We aren’t religious.” Religion died in the Ark a long time ago and she has no doubt the council would balk at the very idea of it.
Lexa looks confused but there is a curiosity in her eyes. “How are your leaders chosen then?”
“By democracy,” she says. Lexa’s brows furrow more at that and Clarke searches her brain for an explanation. “The people choose their leader.”
Lexa nods. “That does not seem like a very effective leadership,” she remarks.
Clarke laughs and thinks back to the memories she has of the council - her mother, Jaha and the crowd of nameless men and women. “Sometimes,” she says. “But it makes sure the people are heard. How are yours?”
“Our people believe that our souls are born of the earth and they return to it in death, but the Commander’s spirit is old enough to break free of the cycle. When the Commander dies, the spirit finds a new host and they become the next Commander. This is so our leader will always be the wisest in all the clans.”
This fact startles Clarke. “Reincarnation? What happens to the old soul when the Commander’s spirit ‘moves it’?”
Lexa shrugs. “They become one,” she says. “This is why our leaders are wise. They have the souls of a thousand men and women before them. Our seers can see into our souls.”
A shiver crawls down Clarke’s back as she remembers the piercing eyes of the seer. “What did your seer say?”
“She says your destiny is linked with the Trikru and it will be great.”
Clarke doesn’t care much for spiritual matters or talks of souls and destiny, but she is grateful that it saved her at least. She stops suddenly and it jerks Lexa back. Lexa turns to her curiously and Clarke’s throat suddenly feels dry. “What do you think,” she asks.
Lexa smiles and turns before quickly pulling her onwards. Anya is already glaring at them from the door of a small house. “I think you will be great,” she echoes.
A broad smile fills her face and Anya eyes it with suspicion. “Stop smiling, sky girl,” she commands and roughly shoves her through the door. Clarke huffs as she studies the inside of the house. It is tiny, spartan and bare. A low table sits in the middle of the house and two bedrolls are spread out in the far corner along. A few daggers and arrows litter the floor and articles of clothing are strewn haphazardly.
Lexa lets the backpack fall to the ground with a thud and rolls her shoulders. “Guards have searched through it and the Heda has allowed us to keep it,” she explains to Clarke, dragging the backpack to another corner of the house.
Anya sends Clarke a warning glare before disarming and placing her weapons down next to the backpack. “Touch it and you lose a hand,” she warns. “I will get another bedroll for you as well as clothes and food.” She fixes Lexa with a stare. “Watch her and do not do anything stupid.”
As soon as Anya is out of the door, Lexa falls onto one of the bedrolls dramatically and pats the space next to her. Clarke plops down next to her gratefully and stretches. The entire day has been a whirlwind of emotions and she’s glad for the rest.
“What am I going to do? The Commander said something about learning your ways?” She turns slightly to face Lexa.
“You need to learn our language and traditions. You are too old to join our children in class, so Anya will teach you. And when the time comes, you will take the test, be sorted and become a second.”
“Sorted?”
Lexa nods. “We have warriors, healers, farmers, builders, craftsmen, and scholars,” she lists. “The warriors hunt as well. Everyone must learn self-defence.”
“Do all of you speak English?”
“Only the warriors and scholars. We learn when we become seconds.”
Clarke mentally counts in her head. “But you’ve only been a second for less than two years. You speak it pretty well.”
Lexa grins at the praise. “I have always wanted to be a warrior,” she admits. “So I taught myself by listening to the warriors.”
She remembers the quiet intelligence in Lexa’s gaze and thinks that maybe a position as a scholar would have suited the girl better instead.
“Teach me to speak your language,” she says.
Lexa hums in thought before turning to face her. “Say ‘ai laik Klark kom Trikru’.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means ‘I am Clarke of the Tree people’.”
“Not quite yet,” a voice interrupts them. Anya shuts the door with her boot and places down three bowls on the table before throwing the rest of the object in her hands at Clarke, who just barely manages catch them. There is a bedroll and an assortment of clothing. “You have to earn your place here first.”
“Now eat,” Anya commands. She sits cross-legged in front of the table and stabs at a slice of potato with her fork. “You will need your strength.”
The slight smirk on her face looks like a promise.
Despite herself, Clarke feels a shot of terror through her veins.
//
“Clarke,” a voice whispers. “Wake up, Clarke.”
Thick webs of sleep cling stubbornly to her mind and Clarke groans softly into her pillow. She doesn’t need to open her eyes to know that it’s too early. “Five more minutes dad,” she mumbles. Her voice is slightly muffled by the fabric of her pillow.
Still, someone shakes her arm insistently and call her name a little more loudly. While gentle like her father, the voice was too feminine.
Without warning, the events of the last twenty-four hours rush through her mind unrestrained and the shock of the memories wrenched her from the last remnants of sleep. Suddenly, she is very much awake.
For a moment, she shut her eyes tighter and wished with all her heart the previous day was simply a dream. A fanciful, terrible dream. However, the insistent shaking continues and there is none of her father’s deep laughs or her mother’s gentle scolding that she’s used to and nothing feels like it will ever be alright again. She opens her eyes and steps back into reality.
Lexa is crouched in front of her. She lights up when she notices that Clarke is awake and throws her a smile.
“Clarke, let’s go see the sunrise!”
Lexa’s excitement is contagious and Clarke forces a smile on her face even though she would like nothing more than to turn away and cry.
Yesterday, it had briefly come up in a conversation that she’d never witnessed a sunrise. Lexa had remembered. Warmth surged through her chest and she felt a strong sense of gratitude towards her new friend.
“Where’s Anya,” she asks as she quickly dresses, pulling on the new and foreign clothes she’s been given. The woman is nowhere to be found. The fabric is rough against her skin and she does not remember ever wearing so much black and grey in her life. Still, she is glad for the warmth. On Earth, the morning chill is biting.
She carefully places her father’s watch into a leather pouch and hangs it around her neck using the string attached. The pouch is a gift from Lexa, who had given it to her the night before when she’d voice her concerns about the watch getting damaged. The pouch is tucked safely under her shirt and Clarke can feel the comforting presence of worn leather on her skin.
“I got her to start your training later,” Lexa said. Clarke wonders how she’d managed to convince strict, scary Anya but pushes the thought aside when Lexa grabs her arm and drags her out of the house. Instead, she wonders if she should expect to get up so early every morning.
Lexa guides her to the edge of a town where one of the many guard outpost towers are and quickly climbs up. Clarke eyes the ladder hesitantly but Lexa offers her an encouraging smile and she hurriedly follows suit. “When Heda is here we have scouts on patrol further in the forest. A lot more people are sent to hunt and gather food to feed the army too so there is no need for guards to stay here,” Lexa explains as they reach the top of the climb.
“The view is a lot better higher up but we cannot leave Tondisi without Anya.”
Clarke takes one look at the sky and her words of reply are lost in a gasp of awe. Bursts of orange streak through the blue sky as the Sun pulls up from below the cover of the mountains. The lands are bathed in the soft glow of the morning light and Clarke has never seen anything quite as beautiful.
It is amazing how something she’s seen thousands of times in her life can look so different. Beautiful just the same, but in another way. All it took was another angle.
Lexa catches her look of wonderment and smiles. “We can watch the sunrise as many times as you want,” she promises.
A rush of emotions well up within her chest and Clarke finds herself blinking back tears. She pulls at the string tied around her neck to release her father’s watch and lightly traces its face. Her father would have loved to see this, now she will enjoy it for the both of them.
She is seized with a sudden urge to thank the other girls and surprises both of them by pulling Lexa into a tight hug. “Thank you,” she whispers and buries her face into Lexa’s shoulder. Her voice trembles with sadness and longing, but there is also an edge of happiness and relief.
Lexa stiffens in her grasp and for a moment Clarke thinks she is going to draw away from her touch, but she lets out a deep breath, tension evaporates from her frame and she allows herself to melt into the embrace.
Hesitantly, she returns the hug.
Sunrise forgotten, Clarke closes her eyes and allows herself to draw comfort from Lexa.
For the first time since she landed on Earth, since she last saw parents’ smiling face as they ate their rations at the dinner table, she begins to feel that everything will be alright.