Disclaimer: I do not own The 100 or Gargoyles. The quotes, "Are we dead?" "Or is this Ohio?" is a reference to Animaniacs, which of course, I don't own.
A request:
Look, everyone, I know all of you prefer fics where Clarke Griffin is just a doormat, but guess what? This fic is not going to be that. On this fic, just like my other fic? Clarke Griffin has had enough. There is no mercy that she has for anyone. You might just want to deal with it. Stop complaining about me writing a fic that you want to be written differently, don't like? Don't read. Remember, no one is making you read this story, and no one made you read Warriors of the valley, okay? I'm not making you read this story, alright?
So, if you don't like that Clarke's not a forgiving doormat like she is in the TV show? Please keep your opinions to yourself. Honestly? It's a bit rude telling me to change Clarke's character when I make it obvious that Clarke is going to be a certain way.
I know this might be difficult, seeing something different, which is Clarke Griffin actually acting like a person rather than a doormat, but either stop reading, or get over it.
So, please, please, stop complaining that Clarke's a hard ass now.
Trigger warnings for this story: threats of child murder, murder, including mentions of a decapitated head.
A new threat
The first thing that she became aware of, when she opened her eyes up? Was the unimaginable throbbing pain all throughout her body.
Clarke groaned as she lifted herself up off the ground, feeling like she had just been hit with over a dozen missiles, and somehow lived to remember the pain.
She would have laughed and said that that was more or less her life story, except, she was sure that if she laughed right now, she'd feel every bone in her body sing with agony.
Clarke risked turning her head from left to right, to see where the flying fuck she was. As she did, she searched her memories of what had happened before falling down here.
Images started flooding her mind.
The Ark. Footprints. People missing. The ground opening up to swallow them. Rings of mushrooms.
For some reason, that last part filled her with unease more than anything else.
Her mind suddenly went to who she had been with when the ground had opened up and had swallowed everyone.
Monroe. Wells. Niylah. Finn. Anya. Pascal. Sekena. The kids, Joey and Leah. Trina. The others.
They were all down here with her.
Before she could think better of it, before she could remind herself that they were likely being watched by whoever had brought them here, she yelled, ignoring the pain shooting through the back of her neck as she did, "Wells?! Monroe?! Niylah?! Pascal?! Sekena?!"
She wasn't sure why she was calling for Sekena, as she knew she had already planned to manipulate her and Anya thoroughly. But she figured if anyone would try to help her, besides Monroe, Wells, Niylah and maybe Pascal, it was her.
She was surprised that she had called for Pascal, though. The clownish guy had grown on her. She didn't see him in any way romantically, but she had started to rely on him. He was exactly playful enough that he was funny, but not so much so that he potentially endangered everyone like Finn and Jasper might have.
Clarke didn't call for the kids, Leah or Joey. She had made her feelings about the children very clear.
She knew that Monroe had wanted to protect them. But while she did technically care about the kids, sort of, she saw no reason to take care of them. Why, when they would be better off without her as a parent?
Around her, she saw dark soil, and pale white mist rolling around, obscuring her from seeing anything else.
Her stomach turned. Now she was very, very worried. A thought hit her then, had she died and gone to hell? It would be a fitting end for her, and she wasn't going to pretend that she didn't deserve it. She did. but she couldn't say she was too eager to find out.
Then, to her immense relief, a voice she recognized called out amongst the mist. "Clarke?!" Wells yelled, "Are you alright?!"
Even if Clarke knew that she shouldn't laugh, she couldn't help the relieved laugh that came from her as she grinned.
No, not hell, then.
Because she knew she deserved to go to hell. But there was no fucking way that Wells could deserve it.
Clarke groaned, braced herself, and forced herself up to her feet, flinching as she did, and looked up ahead. She risked more damage to herself as she yelled, "Wells?! I'm over here! Where are you?! Are the others with you?!"
Clarke saw a shape in the mist and she stiffened for a second, suddenly worried that it might not be Wells, before Wells emerged from the mist, looking terrified and frantic.
Clarke laughed again, wincing and stumbled over to him.
"Clarke!" Wells exclaimed, eyes wide when he saw her and he stumbled over to her, as well and they hugged each other tightly.
"Are you alright?" Clarke asked, surprised to find herself practically crying the question into Wells's neck as she felt hot tears begin to fall from her eyes.
Wells said, "To be perfectly fucking honest, no. I feel like someone took a sledgehammer and hit me with it multiple times. How about you?"
Clarke snorted. So, she hadn't been the only one to take serious damage from whatever fall they had experienced.
"Not exactly," she confessed, "I feel like someone dropped me into a gouge in the earth and I fell several hundreds of feet and broke every bone in my body."
Wells chuckled, "So, the same as me then," he then groaned, "Don't make me laugh, please."
"Yeah," Clarke grumbled, "It's the same for me." She pulled away from Wells and looked at him. She said, "Wells, how the fuck did we survive? We should be dead."
Wells shook his head. "I don't know," he confessed, "How sure are you that we aren't dead?"
Clarke fought another laugh, "Because," she answered, "There's no way you and I would be sent to the same place, if there is in fact a life after death. I mean, seriously. You ending up in the same place as me? No way. If there's such a thing as heaven or whatever? Then that's where you'd end up going. And let's face it," Clarke took on a familiar dark smile, "If there's an afterlife, then I'm destined to go to the other place."
Clarke regretted her words as soon as she saw the expression on Wells's face.
Wells looked like Clarke had just punched him.
He then glared at Clarke, surprising her further. "Don't you say that!" He snapped, "Don't ever say that. You're not going to hell! If there's something after death, you're not going to hell. Don't ever talk like that again."
Clarke felt like asking him, "So, you want me to lie, instead? Or live in denial until I die?"
But she didn't. She had upset her brother already. No need to upset him more.
She said, "I'm sorry. You haven't seen any of the others at all?"
"No," Wells said, shaking his head, but he still looked angry at her, "Can't find a trace of them."
"I just woke up," Clarke said, "But neither have I. If we're both alive and able to walk around, then they probably are able to, as well."
Wells nodded, his expression softening. He said, "I don't get it, though. We're alive, but we're able to walk around. That fall should have broken every bone in our bodies, right?"
Clarke snorted, "Never mind that, we should be dead. But we're not. And even if we're in pain? We're able to walk around and talk. Which means that it's likely that nothing's been broken. None of this should be possible."
Wells looked like he was contemplating this, then said, "So, us not dying from a fall or getting any broken bones is where you're drawing the line of believability?"
Clarke absorbed this question, and before she could help it, she laughed, despite the pain. He was right, of course.
Because after everything they had seen? Them falling through a crack in the ground and surviving what likely had been either a hundred or thousand foot drop, and not getting anything broken, wasn't even really a shred of strangeness next to everything else.
Time travel, magic, gargoyles, and apparently, multiple other things existing, so, this? This wasn't even a drop in the bucket that made up the ocean of strangeness that they had discovered.
Maybe this place was enchanted to keep people from dying from injury, for some reason. Or maybe it was something else.
Either way? They shouldn't really be that surprised that they had survived and hadn't broken anything.
Clarke figured they could find out what was going on later. Right now? They had to find everyone else.
"We have to find the others," she told Wells.
Wells nodded immediately. "Agreed," he said, "But, um…how? This place isn't exactly what we might call 'distinct.' I mean, as far as I can tell, there's no to mark down where we've been so that we don't end up in the same place as before, right?"
Clarke huffed, feeling some of her pain subside. Again, he wasn't wrong. This place was barren, as far as she could tell, of any trees, bushes or even shrubs. There was nothing that would make any part of this place stand out. The only distinct thing about this place was the mist, and that was it. And you couldn't exactly cut into mist and mark it, could you?
There were no trees or bushes or even shrubs that Clarke could take a knife out on and mark and say, "okay, we've been here, so, if we come back here, we'll know we've been in this exact location before."
"Alright," Clarke said, unable to think of anything else to do, because she was positive that there was nothing else they could do, "Let's stay close together. Hold hands like we did whenever we were walking around the Ark when we were kids, and don't let go. Under any circumstance. And let's see if we can actually find the others."
Wells nodded, and he and Clarke took hands and they started running through the mist, looking for the others.
Yards away from Clarke and Wells had reunited, Monroe got up, groaning, feeling spikes of pain all over her body. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.
She winced, getting up to her feet, then suddenly remembered what exactly had happened. Oh, shit.
Even though it hurt her to do, Monroe looked around where she was. She didn't see Clarke, Niylah or the kids anywhere.
"Shit," she hissed. Then she started shouting, ignoring the pain it caused her to do, "Clarke?! Niylah?! Joey?! Leah?! Wells?!"
She heard and saw nothing. Well, that wasn't exactly true. She saw something. Just nothing useful. Ground and mist. That was it. That was all she saw.
Not very helpful.
"Alright," Monroe grumbled, trying not to wince at the pain that she was experiencing, "If I survived, then they had to, as well. I need to find them."
Monroe started stumbling along the ground, looking through the mist for any of the others.
As she moved, she groaned in pain when she rammed into something and heard two groans in response.
She jumped back and her eyes widened when she saw both Pascal and Finn in front of her.
She felt deep disappointment, but some relief. Not the people she was hoping to find first. But still, better than no one, right?
And if the three of them had survived, then Clarke, Niylah, Wells and the kids had to have too, right?
Monroe tried to tell herself that she would have felt it if Clarke had died. But she didn't know if she would have. She knew that she was in love with Clarke. Completely in love with her. But she couldn't say for sure if she'd just know the moment Clarke died, or would feel it, like a hole growing in her chest.
She had heard that that was what happened when someone's loved one died. She had no idea if it was a myth or not. She hoped she wouldn't have to find out.
She said to Pascal and Finn, "Have you seen any of the others?"
Both boys shook their heads, much to Monroe's dismay.
"Okay," she said, hiding her disappointment, "If we survived, then they likely did too. We need to find the others. Now."
Pascal and Finn nodded their heads and Monroe almost asked if they had rehearsed, but instead, began walking and both boys followed after her.
The three of them kept moving, finding nothing, going through the mist and finding a landscape that was exactly the same as the one that they had left.
As they moved, Monroe suddenly felt that training that she had from the previous timeline kick in.
She felt like someone was watching them.
She tensed up, right hand reaching for the knife in her belt. She remembered she had one of the guns that she had taken from Clarke too.
She said to Pascal and Finn, hoping they hadn't noticed so that they didn't do anything stupid, "Keep moving."
Then a shape came out of the mist, pulling a knife out.
Monroe cried out, right hand moving from the knife to the handle of her gun, when she saw who it was that had burst out of the mist. It was Niylah!
Niylah's eyes widened when she saw Monroe, Pascal and Finn too.
Her arm holding her weapon, lowered and her battle hungry expression softened.
"Munroh," she acknowledged, "I'm deeply sorry. I saw three shapes moving through the mist and I thought that they might be enemies. I didn't see that it was you."
Monroe laughed out, despite the pain in her body, dropping her hand from the gun's handle, "It's alright, Niylah. I think we're all on edge after what happened."
"Speaking of," Pascal said, looking from Monroe to Niylah, "What exactly happened? I mean, I remember us walking across a landscape, following some tracks that disappeared, and then the ground opened up and we fell down. What happened? Are we all hallucinating? Or are we dead?"
"'Or is this Ohio?'" A voice sound, laughing, saying a quote from that old cartoon, WB's Animaniacs.
Monroe, Niylah, Pascal and Finn all whirled around, to see Clarke and Wells coming through the mist, both of them grinning.
Clarke, the one who had said the quote, said, looking at all four of the people she and Wells had just run into, "Well, damn, I'd say that the four of you are a sight for sore eyes, but all of us look like shit, so…,"
"Clarke," Monroe laughed, "Shut up and come here." She hugged Clarke hard, wincing as she did, pulling back to kiss Clarke fiercely, tongue pushing into Clarke's mouth before she could even realize that she probably had just done something rude, if not did something that would get Clarke potentially angry, before pulling back, cupping Clarke's face between her hands, looking at the older blonde desperately.
"Are you alright?" Monroe asked Clarke breathlessly.
Clarke chuckled, and Monroe grinned, knowing that she hadn't done anything to piss Clarke off.
Clarke said, "If by 'alright,' you mean, I'm alive but in pain all over? Then yes."
Monroe burst out laughing, and it hurt to laugh, but she didn't care. It felt so good to see Clarke, to see that she was here, alive and more or less safe.
When Monroe finally dared to release her hold on Clarke, Clarke looked at Niylah as she said, "Niylah, glad to see that you're okay too."
"Clarke," Niylah acknowledged, hands clenching tight and Monroe knew that for Niylah was restraining herself from pulling Clarke into her arms, and kissing Clarke just as deeply as Monroe had.
Pascal grinned at Clarke and he also clearly was having a hard time not rushing to Clarke and hugging her. "It's really good that you're okay," he said and Clarke tried not to roll her eyes.
She suspected that he wanted to say, "I'm so happy you're safe," but he didn't want to sound "uncool."
Clarke observed both Niylah and Pascal's restraint, and fought a smirk, before saying, "Okay, where are we? Where is everyone else, and what the hell is going on?"
"Good question," Monroe said, "Last thing I remembered, is us falling through a crack in the ground. And we were following some footprints. And everyone else disappeared? Oh…and does anyone else remember laughter and glowing eyes?"
"Yeah, I remember that. I guess," Clarke said quietly, "Something paranormal is going on. I'm guessing something caused the earth to open up…," her voice trailed off and she said, "Wait, how the fuck are we alive right now?"
"I think we've been asking that for a while now," Wells said, grinning.
Clarke shook her head, "No, no," she said, "I mean, how have we not hit the Earth's molten hot core yet? I mean, shouldn't we have dropped through the ground, and hit the core and disintegrated?"
Monroe thought about that, and her eyes widened. Oh, shit, Clarke was right.
Monroe had a half-assed education, to say the least. However, even she knew that what was at the center of the earth, was a burning core that was deadly to anyone who got even remotely close.
Anyone who had seen even the most mundane science class poster with a diagram of the earth? Would be able to tell you this; that there was a burning core in the middle of the earth.
That was just science.
So, how hadn't they ended up disintegrated?
Not that Monroe was complaining. But still, how?
How were any of them still alive?
"That's a really good point," Monroe confessed, feeling uneasy.
"Guys!" Someone cried out, making them whirl around, seeing Harper and Jasper coming running, "You're here!" The one who had cried out, had been Harper. She smiled at the group she and Jasper were approaching.
Monroe felt relief flood her. She didn't care about Jasper. But she was glad that Harper was safe.
"Harper," Clarke said, then glared at Jasper, "Jasper." She then asked as both teenagers came near, "Where are the others? Do you know?"
Harper answered, "Don't you think that we'd have the others with us if we did?"
Clarke chuckled, "Good point."
"Okay," Monroe said, "So, we all survived, somehow. And we're here. Okay. We need to find the others and get out of here. Wherever here is."
"Right," Wells said and he frowned, feeling worried, "Wonder what that laughter was from when we fell through the earth. Or those glowing eyes or those claws we saw."
Clarke shifted, not liking where this was going. She had an idea. And she honestly hoped she was fucking wrong.
"Let's just keep moving," she said, unable to keep the nervousness out of her voice, "We have to find Fox, Monty, Trina, Sekena, Anya, the kids and the rest of the Grounders."
Clarke was glad when the others nodded and moved. She didn't want to entertain the possibility of what it was she was thinking.
A ring of mushrooms and laughter and abductions?
Clarke had heard enough stories from her dad when she was a kid, for her to have an idea of what was happening here.
And having the confirmation in Demona's story that there were…other things out there, made Clarke very nervous about where this was going.
Far from where Clarke, Monroe, Niylah, Wells, Pascal, Finn, Harper and Jasper had met up, another disgruntled and confused group were beginning to try to gain their bearings.
Onya kom Trikru and Sekena kom Trikru and the rest of Onya's warriors, gathered up and looked around where they were.
The two Ark children they had found hiding behind a large rock, a boy, Joee and a girl, Leea, were with them.
As well as the other two older Ark children, Treena, Foks and Monti.
Trina, Fox and Monty, all three of which were very nervous around the Grounders they were with, stayed close to the two younger kids, Joey and Leah.
Trina kept her eyes on Anya, Sekena and the other Grounders. Because of what Monroe had told her about the Grounders and what these specific people had done in the other timeline? Trina couldn't say that she trusted them too much.
Joey and Leah were holding each other's hand tightly and Anya barked some order at one of her warriors.
The big burly man she talked to, grunted back and stayed right behind Joey and Leah, watching them.
Trina assumed that it was for the children's protection. At least, she hoped it was.
Trina asked Anya, looking hesitantly at the woman, "Um,…do we know where the others are?"
Anya glanced at Trina and Trina felt uncomfortable. Like she was being looked at by a shark that wasn't sure whether or not it wanted to eat her yet.
"We'll look for them," Anya said, her voice hard, "In the meantime? Stay by us, so we can keep you safe."
Trina shared an uneasy glance with both Fox and Monty. They weren't sure exactly how safe they felt with these individuals.
But fine. Since they were at the bottom of some gorge, they were in pain, surrounded by white mist, and they had no idea where they were or where any of the others were? They really didn't have anything else to go on, did they?
So, yes, Trina was going to stay close to the Grounders. If only to find the others.
She needed to find Pascal. And Clarke, Niylah, Monroe and Wells.
Abby Griffin was with this group. Anya and Sekena had bound her up and beaten her when she had tried to protest.
Trina could tell that both women wanted to kill Abby. However, she heard them speaking in English and heard them agreeing to keep Abby alive, till they found Clarke again, so that they could kill Abby in front of Clarke to make Clarke happy.
Trina had felt mildly disturbed. Less disturbed than she likely should have felt.
Before she came down to Earth with the others in the dropship, she probably would have been horrified to hear Anya and Sekena say things like that.
But now? No, now, she couldn't say she would be horrified. Somewhat disturbed, sure. But aside from that?
Trina had heard from Monroe, what Abby had done to Clarke in the previous timeline. And she knew that Anya wanted to be with Clarke and that Sekena had some sort of feelings for Clarke, though Trina wasn't sure what type of feelings.
Normally, saying to someone, "oh, we'd kill your parent right in front of you," would understandably, be horrifying and horrible.
But these were very…different circumstances, weren't they?
Abby had hurt Clarke. So many times. Abby had no right to be Clarke's mother.
And the people that actually looked liked they cared about Clarke, that being Monroe, Niylah, Wells, Anya and Sekena, were trying to interfere in Abby potentially getting Clarke back.
And if Anya and Sekena killing Abby in front of Clarke apparently placated Clarke, then Trina supposed that by now, she couldn't judge.
If Anya and Sekena wanted to kill Abby in front of Clarke, in order to win Clarke's affections, then you know what? That was their own business.
Trina only cared about finding Pascal, Clarke, Niylah, Monroe and Wells.
She glanced to Fox, Monty, Joey and Leah. And she hopefully, could keep Leah and Joey safe.
Anya barked out another order and several of the Grounders answered back in a language Trina didn't recognize. They grabbed Abby and dragged her along, the Grounder behind Joey and Leah herded both children after Anya as Anya and Sekena led the front of the line.
Anya, Sekena and Anya's warriors, their captive, Abby, Joey and Leah, and Trina, Fox and Monty kept walking, searching the area, which had no landmarks, whatsoever.
"Where are we, do you think?" Monty asked, swiveling his head around, back and forth, most likely desperately trying to find signs of anything, besides a plain valley of dark soil and rocks.
"Monty," Trina chuckled, "I have no idea. We're not even from the ground. You think I know where we are more than you do?"
Monty shook his head and gestured to the Grounders. "No," he said quickly, "I was asking them."
"Oh," Trina said, glancing worriedly at the Grounders, wondering if it was a good idea to interact with them at all, "Uh, think they'll answer?"
Monty shrugged, clearly timid. "I don't know," he said, "but look at the situation we're in. It probably won't hurt to ask."
Trina nodded. She supposed she understood that.
They were in a desperate situation. So, why not ask what you could, when you had the chance to, right?
Monty got closer to the other Grounders, which much to both Trina and Fox's unease, got the Grounders to pay attention to him.
Two of the Grounders looked to Monty and stared at him suspiciously.
Monty offered a meek smile.
Sekena and Anya looked at where two of their warriors were looking.
"You," Anya said, staring at Monty, causing the boy to look at Anya nervously, "Come here. What's your name? Monti, right?"
Monty nodded. "Yeah," he said, swallowing, "That's me. Um, I just wanted to ask if you knew where we are? I mean, you live on the ground, so, I was just wondering."
Anya, to Trina's surprise, smirked. "You think because I live on the ground, I know about every inch of this world? That's a naïve thing to think, Monti. I will confess, that I have heard stories. Things about creatures that have some sort of portal in the region of the world we went to, the place you call 'Ireland' and we call, 'Iyreland.' But that's only if you believe the stories."
Unable to help her curiosity, Trina asked, "What have you heard?"
At Anya's piercing gaze being brought to her, Trina sheepishly smiled.
However, as she still walked, Anya answered, "If you believe the stories, after the bombs, many got displaced from their homes. Not just human beings and animals. The creatures that used to live in Iyreland, were no different. They now live in other parts of the world. The gateway that we were sent through, and the clusters of mushrooms? Were stolen from the creatures that used to live here and are now being used by other creatures that are from another continent of the world."
"Which continent?" Trina asked, unable to help but ask, "What creatures are here now?" Trina fought a shiver, as she remembered the laughter she and the others had heard before being dropped down into that gorge, and seeing those claws and glowing eyes, "Anya, I'm sorry, but just what are we dealing with?"
Anya chuckled grimly, "I would have thought it was clear, Treena. After the creatures that lived in the portal near Iryland left, because of the bombs, dispersing to other countries and continents, a different set of creatures found a portal from their continent, to Iryland. And opened it up. Which was how the gorge opened up and made us drop in."
Trina frowned. That was confusing. Okay, so, they weren't dealing with creatures that were known to Ireland. Fine. But what the hell were they dealing with?
"Okay," Trina said, "So, what are the creatures and where are they from?"
Anya chuckled, appearing grim, "They stole the idea of rings of mushrooms as a warning from the creatures that used to live near the portal in Iryland. The creatures are from another continent. I don't know what the Ark people call it. But here, we call the continent, "Ytaaliy."
It took Trina a few seconds to realize where Anya was referring to, but then her eyes widened, recognizing the name after a few seconds, as she said, "Italy?"
Anya chuckled, "Yes, I suppose I mean there. But the beings that now rule there? They are not originally from Ytaaliy. They're from further away. But their worshippers travel all over the world. And took up residence in Ytaaliy a few decades ago."
Trina glanced to Fox, Monty, Joey and Leah. Italy? What the heck sorts of horrible creatures were supposed to live in Italy? And what was this about "worshippers?"
"What creatures from Italy?" Trina asked cautiously.
This time, Sekena spoke up. She said, "It depends on the interpretation, I suppose. Some say demons live there. Some say something else. We don't actually know. I suspect a god or gods. But supposedly, they were worshipped by the old tribes that lived in another region of the world. Not Ytaaliy, but elsewhere. They just traveled to Ytaaliy, after the bombs."
Trina's mind was trying to catch up with all of this.
So, they were dealing with some creatures of some type, from another region in the world. Okay. That told her nothing.
Just that they were possibly demons. But also, possibly not.
Great. So, that told them literally nothing.
"If they're actually what we're dealing with," Trina said, "How much do we need to worry?"
Anya and Sekena gave Trina a shared disturbed look. A look that needless to say, did not reassure Trina. At all.
The two young children, Joey and Leah, stayed close, not entirely listening to what Anya, Sekena and Trina were saying.
Leah looked up at Joey as she asked, "Do…do you think we'll find Monroe and Clarke?"
Joe nodded, smiling at his adoptive sister. "I'm sure of it," he said, "If we survived the fall, then they definitely did."
At least, Joey hoped they had. Joey was harsh, but he wanted his sister to have hope. While she might not be related to him by blood, Leah still had become important to him over time. And he could safely say that he saw her as his baby sister. He wanted her to be safe, healthy, happy and not scared.
He didn't know how much of that he could provide for her. However, what he figured he could do, was tell her that their new parents would find them soon.
Joey didn't know this "Clarke" well. She sounded like she tried to be meaner than she actually was. At least, that was the impression that Joey got from her. But he certainly had unshakable faith in Monroe.
She had protected them and he didn't doubt that she would do it again in a second.
Joey glared at a few of the "Grounders." All he and Leah would have to do was wait till they rejoined Monroe and Clarke. Then Joey and Leah would ditch the Grounders and go back to their new parents. Their mothers.
As Sekena and Onya explained what they knew, or rather, what few bits they knew to Trina, Sekena feared for her chosen daughter, Klark.
Sekena didn't know where she was. And she and Onya both planned on murdering Abi in front of Klark, so that Klark would be pleased. And hopefully, that, and protecting the two children that Klark and her homon, Munroh, had taken in, the two children, Joee and Leea, would make Klark see that Sekena just wanted to protect her and make her happy.
However, there were other things that made Sekena worry. If she and Onya were right about the threat they were now dealing with, then how was she to protect Klark?
How could she protect Klark, from something like that?
Sekena had heard the stories when she was young, from tribes' members who had sailed to some islands not far from the tribes' lands. And those that had been to Ytaaliy, spoke of things from some parts of a different region of the world, had come back, telling stories of…things that lived there. Not human beings. Not animals. Things.
Supposedly either demons, or the gods that the old tribes of Ytaaliy believed in.
Either way? These were not creatures that Sekena wanted Klark anywhere near.
As soon as Sekena and the others found Klark? Sekena was going to kill Abi for her, then give Joee and Leea to Klark and her homon, Munroh, then keep Klark safe. From any threat there was.
Back with Clarke's group, Clarke, Monroe, Niylah, Wells, Pascal, Finn, Harper and Jasper, quickly went down an odd slope of some type. The slope was one of the few distinct features in this "landscape." If this place even could be called a "landscape."
The slope went down, from where they were standing, and there were some steps. Yes, actual steps, leading down.
"Well," Monroe said, her eyes going to the steps, "This isn't suspicious looking at all."
Clarke snorted, "You said it. But what else do we have to go on?"
Monroe thought about that, then nodded. She supposed Clarke had a point.
"After you, then," Clarke said, smirking viciously at Jasper, as she gestured to the steps, translating to him that he needed to go down them first.
Jasper looked alarmed and glanced at Monroe and the others, fearfully.
Monroe sighed, smiling as she shook her head at Clarke. "Don't worry, Jasper," she said to the boy, "I'll go down the steps first."
Clarke was about to speak up, worried and alarmed, when Pascal interfered.
He said, stepping over, "Oh, wait, hold on. Are all of you really ignoring that I'm here." He offered up a playful grin, "The designated 'guinea pig?'" Pascal nodded to Clarke and Monroe, "No worries. I got this."
He approached the stairs, "accidentally" shouldering Jasper hard, making the smaller boy wince and whimper in pain, staring at Pascal, startled.
Clarke smirked. It appeared that their situation had not changed Pascal's feelings about Jasper. Pascal still disliked Jasper. Still saw him as a traitor, which he was, even if Jasper didn't remember what he had done in the other timeline.
Pascal went down the steps, peering downwards as he did.
"Okay, I'm not seeing much here," Pascal said as he went down, then his head lifted as he said, "Wait, there's some mound of earth and it looks like there's some burnt up wood down there."
Frowning, Clarke moved forward and all three Monroe, Niylah and Wells stayed close to her as she moved to the steps, following behind Pascal.
"Is there anything else there, besides the pile of wood? Around the pile, I mean?" Clarke asked him.
Pascal shook his head, not looking away from the area he was watching, "Nuh-uh. But it looks there's someone sitting next to the pile."
"Oh?" Clarke asked, now alert, aware of a possible other person here.
"Yeah," Pascal sounded troubled when he said the next words, "This person isn't moving. Like I can't impress upon you enough that this person isn't moving.
Clarke stared at Pascal's back, contemplating this.
Was this sitting person dead possibly?
But why would there be a dead person sitting there?
Clarke moved away from Monroe, Niylah and Wells, siding up next to Pascal and looking right down at where he had been looking. Her eyes widened when she took in the sight that Pascal had spotted first.
There was indeed a mound of earth down there, and a pile of wood on top of the pile. And yes, there also was someone sitting down next to the pile, sitting cross-legged next to said pile.
And as Pascal had pointed out, the figure was not moving.
At least, that was the case at first. Then the figure began to move suddenly, bringing a gasp from Pascal next to Clarke.
The figure unfurled their legs and stretched those legs, then got up to their feet.
Which allowed Clarke and Pascal to see the figure in full view, even from far away.
And when they saw the figure, both Clarke and Pascal wished that the figure had stayed seated, so they wouldn't have to see it completely.
Because when the figure stood up fully, their arms were at their sides, which allowed both Clarke and Pascal to see what was in the figure's hands.
"Well," Clarke said, saying what they both were thinking, "That's a complication."
"Ain't gonna argue with you there," Pascal said, shivering, "But what the hell is that person holding in their right hand?"
"Don't know for sure," Clarke said, backing away from the lower steps, "I'm guessing? A severed head. Even if I'm wrong? I'm just going to go out on a limb and say, we don't want to run into that person. So, let's just get out of here."
"Agreed," Pascal said, nodding, backing away also, "Come on, guys."
"What is it?" Monroe asked, eyebrows narrowing as she tried to get a closer look at what had spooked Clarke and Pascal.
"I have no idea," Clarke answered, "But the way I figure it? We're all better off not finding out. That person down there, doesn't look like someone we'd want to run into in an alley."
When the figure had fully stood up? Pascal and Clarke had seen what was in that person's hands. In the person's left hand had been a big, long, wide sword or machete. And even from where they had stood? Both Clarke and Pascal had been able to tell that the blade of the weapon had been soaked in dark blood. And the blood had dripped off down the blade in rivulets on the ground. In the person's right hand, had dangled what Clarke was positive, was a severed human head.
Clarke quickly went past Monroe and Pascal backed away too.
Monroe peeked down at what they had been looking at, and her eyes widened at the sight of…whatever that person was holding in their right hand.
Monroe swallowed and went back up the stairs. Niylah had also looked down the stairs, at what was there and had seen it.
Her reaction was the most interesting out of all of them, from what Clarke could tell.
Niylah stepped back from the steps, her eyes hard, her lower jaw tightening. She hissed, "It's one of them!"
Clarke blanched, looking at Niylah, confused. Wait, Niylah knew who that person down there, was?
"Niylah?" Clarke said, "You seem to know a thing or two about what that person is doing. I gotta ask. Who is that?"
Niylah was still glaring down at what the person down below, as if it was the most horrific thing she had ever laid eyes on as she growled, "Look at the clothing of that person."
Clarke looked past Niylah at the person, observing the figure's clothing.
While the person's clothing wasn't exactly remarkable in any usual way, and it was difficult to see that many details on the clothing at this distance, however, she could tell that the cloth was thick and baggy and with light brown colors. There was a stripe down the shoulders of the shirt or coat the figure was wearing. These stripes were light red in color.
"What about how the person's dressed?" Clarke asked Niylah, frowning, not understanding.
Niylah sighed. She said, "That's a follower of one of the older religions. They kill anyone who doesn't follow their religion. They live strictly and only here. In Ytaaliy"
Clarke's eyes widened.
However, there was one part of what Niylah said that caused her to falter. "Wait a sec," Clarke said, "You said, 'Ytaaliy.' As in 'Italy,' right? What the hell does that continent have to do with us? We landed in Ireland not long ago."
Niylah only then, turned her attention back to Clarke. "And how do you explain where we are, Klark?" She asked, no anger or disrespect in her voice, "This isn't anywhere in Iryland. And you know it. This is a portal to somewhere else. And if I'm right, then it's a portal that creatures from Ytaaliy are using to shuttle us to their portal in Ytaaliy."
Clarke paused, frowning. "Wait, so, we're essentially in Italy right now?" Clarke asked, confused.
"Not exactly," Niylah said, "The beings and their human followers live in Ytaaliy. But we aren't in Ytaaliy itself as of this moment. But we're in a portal in Ytaaliy."
"Well, that explains why I'm not hot yet. Because it's a portal, not actually Italy." Monroe grumbled, knowing that Italy had a warm climate, fighting a laugh, because of course, portals existed. Because on top of everything else? Why not.
"You're not yet," Niylah agreed, "But we all will be, when we get out of the portal and end up on land where the portal is. Which is Ytaaliy."
"Right," Clarke said, shaking her head, feeling like her brain potentially was going to hurt from all of this, "So, we're in a portal, in Italy, pulled away from where we landed in Ireland and now we're only in the portal in Italy, and there are people that kill others who don't convert to their religion?"
"Yes," Niylah said, nodding, her hardened expression never wavering.
"Fucking great," Clarke said, trying to ignore how her heart was hammering in her chest, "Is there a way of getting rid of these followers of this religion?"
Niylah said solemnly, "Most warriors leave the continent of Ytaaliy, frightened of those that the people serve. The beings that the people serve. So, I don't know."
"Right," Monroe said, staring at the person down near the mound of earth, "So, this keeps getting better and better. You said that these people are religious, right? What do they believe in?"
"That's difficult to explain," Niylah said, "But one thing is certain, when the followers are killed? Their patron god or gods always take revenge for them."
Clarke froze. "Wait," she said, "So, the things that these people believe in actually exist?"
"Yes," Niylah said.
"Shit," Clarke mumbled, remembering what Joey and Leah said. That things with horns had taken the rest of the Ark people.
But what did these people believe in? Demons? Gods?
Clarke tried not to laugh at the ridiculousness of all this. Well, good news and bad news. The good news was, it looked like what she thought she and the others would have to worry about originally, when she had seen those mushrooms weren't actually going to be a problem. The bad news was that it looked like they might have to worry about demons or something.
"There's something else," Niylah said, "You're not going to want to hear this, but the people who follow these beings tend to sacrifice children to their gods, by throwing children on fire and burning those children alive."
Clarke shuddered, not saying anything.
Monroe's heart clenched. "How young of children are we talking here?" Monroe asked Niylah cautiously.
"Young," Niylah responded, "Very young children. But children Joee and Leea's age, would also be appealing to them."
Clarke froze and she and Monroe shared a borderline panicked expression.
Shit. They needed to find Joey and Leah. Now.
"Um, guys?" Finn said suddenly, causing the others to look at him. He appeared nervous and pointed downwards. Down the stairs.
They all looked at where he was pointing.
Much to their horror, the figure that had stood up, the figure holding the machete and severed head, suddenly turned to them, and tossed the severed head which they had been carrying onto the pile of burnt wood, like it was a flesh-covered bag of meat. Even from far away, Clarke and the others could hear the sound the impact of the head made against the wood pile, and it was a sound that made many of them grimace.
The figure looked up at them, then leaned down and reached their now free right hand behind them, that same hand emerging from behind them, bearing not another head but what looked like a helmet of some type, and placed the helmet onto their head, before walking closer to the stairwell that led up to where Clarke, Niylah, Monroe, Wells, Pascal and the others were.
And the figure was looking right at them, bearing the machete in their hand, aiming the blade up at them, the threat quite clear.
"Oh, fuck," Monroe said, saying what all of them were thinking, as she grabbed Clarke's wrist, trying to pull her away.
Clarke felt Niylah grab her hips and pull her backwards as well.
"It's time to leave," Niylah said, next to Clarke's ear and she felt the Grounder and Monroe pull her away from the stairwell as the figure with the helmet and machete approached.
"Agreed," Wells said, panic in his voice as he and everyone else got ready to flee.
Even with all of them being aware that they all were armed? None of them wanted to know what this approaching figure was capable of.