Warnings for discussions of murder, rape, suicide, war, historical homophobia and prejudice against non-Christian religions.
There's a lot of talk of mythology in this chapter. I mean, a lot.
A dissection of "heroes"
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Clarke said, without hesitation, when she heard what Niylah had to say in response to Clarke's question.
Niylah chuckled, smiling. "I see you took that well," she said.
"Sorry," Clarke amended, "I just don't know what to do with this."
And it was the truth.
What Niylah had just told her was that whatever "eight-legged horse" that was talked about in any mythology which the Grounders knew about, was from one specific mythology. One that was from a very cold place in the north. Niylah said she didn't know what the religion was called, or what the name was of the people who originally worshipped that religion, however, those that used to worship that religion, traveled in boats, wore furs, attacked other countries and continents, raped, pillaged and took slaves.
That told Clarke not much, since that could have described quite a lot of cultures, before Christianity came along and made slavery all about race.
Slavery had been around long before Europeans invaded Africa. But it was the Europeans, who had decided that only black people were acceptable targets for slavery.
Again, Clarke was positive, Christianity held a lot of blame for that.
But then Niylah said something that caused Clarke to instantly realize what was going on. At least when it came to figuring out who this "eight-legged horse was."
What Niylah said, was that these invaders with furs and boats, tended to worship, had a "head god," with a missing eye, and with two ravens that obeyed him. This same god, had a son who was the god of thunder.
Now, one might hear the "thunder" part and think, 'oh, it's the Greek god, Zeus.'
But Clarke knew better. Anyone who had even a bit of a remotely unremarkable education, would probably have heard of at least one Greek myth. And Clarke knew that Niylah's description of this father of the god of thunder, was not Zeus's father. Zeus's father was Cronus. A titan. Who ate all of his children, save for Zeus, who was secreted away by Cronus's wife.
And that didn't match the description of what Niylah had described to Clarke.
This was not Zeus's dad.
This was a god from another religion.
And Clarke's mind went from that, to what other gods she knew of.
She knew there were many gods of thunder in different myths. But one god came to mind. A god who was the father of a god of thunder, who had one eye. And had a couple of ravens that obeyed him.
One name came to Clarke's mind.
Odin.
Which meant the child that was the "god of thunder," was none other than Thor.
Realizing that was startling. However, she had to wonder what any eight-legged horse had to do with that and she asked Niylah that.
Niylah had simply said that the eight-legged horse was from that same religion, and that the eight-legged horse, was the child of another god in that religion, who was friends with the god who was the father of the god of thunder.
The eight-legged horse, according to Niylah, was the result of the other god, turning into a horse and having sex with a real horse and giving birth to the eight-legged horse.
Clarke almost laid her head down on the table in front of her and Niylah, at that.
Because of course, there was a god that mated with a horse and gave birth to that eight-legged horse in mythology.
Mythology was…bizarre, to be frank.
Niylah said that the same god, became pregnant with the eight-legged horse, gave birth to said eight-legged horse, and that same god had several other children. One of them a huge snake that was big enough to wrap around the entire world.
And that? That made something click for Clarke. Because while she might not be experienced in knowing a lot of mythologies, she had heard bits and pieces from different mythologies.
And one of them, was that there was a god that had multiple children, who was friends with Odin.
Amongst those children, was a gargantuan snake.
Clarke couldn't remember the name of the snake, but it was something like "Jorgmander." Something like that.
And Clarke remembered who one of the parents was of that huge-ass snake.
Loki.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Clarke repeated, "Loki?"
That was who she had seen in her dreams last night?
Niylah was startled and smiled. "You know of this god?" She asked.
Clarke nodded. "In the Ark," she said, "We are taught about a lot of different mythologies, but they're treated as children's stories, rather than a possible religion to follow. As we've mentioned in the past, the religions most people are taught to follow on the Ark? Are limited."
"I see," Niylah said, "But yes. Loki. Who had many children. One of them an eight-legged horse, with a real horse. And Loki was the one that gave birth to the eight-legged horse."
Clarke nodded.
That she'd heard of and now that she thought about it, she recalled the story.
People thought of Vikings and their culture and thought that they must have had extremely strict gender roles.
This was not the case. There were many women warriors in their ranks. Not as many as men, of course, but there were women fighters.
And homosexuality was not nearly as reviled in that culture as the society on the Ark today, tried to pretend that it was, so as to moralize their own bigotry against lesbians, gay men, bisexuals and pansexuals.
And if the mythology surrounding Loki was anything to go by? To a certain extent at least, they understood that gender could be fluid.
What was more? The Viking culture wasn't close to being as hegemonic as many people thought it was.
There were black Vikings too. A small number of them, but there were black Vikings. Either they were brought to the Vikings' land against their will, or went willingly-either way, they assimilated.
So, no, Viking culture wasn't nearly as hegemonic as a lot of racists and homophobes liked to think it to be.
So, when white nationalists tried to make Viking culture out to be an example of "great, white masculinity," they just didn't know what they were talking about.
The point was, mythology was full of much more than just straight, white men who stuck to a rigid masculine role.
So, none of what Niylah was telling Clarke, was a surprise.
Clarke asked Niylah what the name of the horse was.
Niylah gave her the name.
The name of the eight-legged horse, was Sleipnir. And was used as the steed for the god with the one eye, who was the king of the gods, and the father of that god of thunder. Apparently, Loki mated with the real horse and gave birth to Sleipnir, in order to give Odin a steed.
Clarke nodded. That made sense.
"Would there be any reason why that eight-legged horse might try to contact me?" Clarke asked.
Niylah frowned, thinking about this, it appeared.
"I'm not sure," she admitted, "Did the being you saw in your dreams tell you what Sleipnir would tell you?"
"Nope," Clarke answered, "Just that this eight-legged horse would be an ally. That's it. That's all he told me."
Niylah considered this, and turned up empty. She didn't know.
Clarke figured that much. Still, if the dream she'd had last night was actually real and that man she'd seen really had been Loki, then it would be nice to know what the hell that horse was being sent to her for.
"Next those ravens that are Odin's buddies, will show up," Clarke grumbled.
Niylah chuckled, "Huginn and Muninn."
Startled, Clarke looked at Niylah. "Those ravens have names?" She asked, surprised.
"Yes," Niylah said, "They are the head god of that religion's, spies and confidantes, so, they were vital to him. So, yes, they have names."
Clarke nodded.
Okay, so, accepting that gods were real, that meant that they had to accept that it might just be plausible that Clarke may actually have been visited in her dream by a god. A Norse god.
And who was going to send her the assistance of one of his children, Sleipnir.
And according to him, the assistance of his other children.
Clarke paused, thinking about what else this man who may just have been Loki himself, sad to her in her dream.
That he was her "family." And that he somehow was family on her father's side.
What did that mean?
Was he saying that…that she was a demigod of some sort?
That was ridiculous. She would know something like that, if that was the case.
No. Whatever she had seen in her dream last night?
It was just her mind making bullshit up. That was all.
There hadn't been any god in her dream last night. Just a figment of her imagination.
Which meant that while this information from Niylah, was interesting to know? It probably wouldn't serve much of a purpose.
"Thank you for telling me this, Niylah," Clarke said.
Niylah smiled in that loving way that always caused Clarke to shiver.
"You're welcome, my love," Niylah said.
Clarke nodded.
So, while that information was probably useless, they'd need to get their provisions and things they could use for blocking the doors, in case those psychos with masks showed up anytime soon.
Clarke gave that order after a half hour, that they find things to block the entrances and the windows, and that they each take shifts, guarding the place.
The others agreed.
As Pascal and Anya wiped smut and dust from the windows, allowing sunlight to bleed through the glass, Clarke sat back down on the seat she'd been in before and Monroe sat down next to her.
On cue practically, Joey and Leah quickly sat down next to her, looking over at Monroe and Clarke.
Clarke eyed the two children, before looking at Monroe.
She then said to her girlfriend, "You realize that if these people have the ability to survive bullets to the throat, then that means our chances of getting rid of them are pretty slim. We need to blow them up. We need bombs."
"We have grenades," Monroe pointed out.
"Yeah," Clarke said, "But I was thinking more along the lines of an explosion that will kill multiple people. Like the one that Raven built, to get rid of Anya's army."
Monroe nodded.
That probably would be admittedly, more helpful against an army of multiple people that could survive bullets in their necks.
"Maybe we can find some gasoline around Milan," Monroe said, "Maybe use it as a way of getting rid of the people after us."
"Yeah, well," Clarke said, "We don't have Raven with us. Then again, if she were, I'd probably…" she shot a glance at Joey and Leah, and quickly stopped talking.
Monroe figured out what Clarke was saying, nodding to Clarke.
She figured what Clarke was getting at.
Clarke wanted Raven dead. Monroe could figure that one out easily enough.
And she couldn't say that she could blame Clarke. Monroe had never been that close with Raven. She had never had that much against Raven, either. However, after what Monroe had Raven say about Clarke, she had reached the end of her patience.
Raven, as far as Monroe was concerned, was trash. Absolute trash. And deserved to be shoved into the trash. Where the bitch belonged.
But Raven was nothing else, if not helpful when it came to technology and making the types of explosions that Clarke wanted.
Clarke looked around, clearly estimating what they'd need.
Leah then asked, looking at Monroe and Clarke, "Monroe? Clarke? Can I go play over there?"
Clarke looked at where Leah was looking.
There was a short ladder, next to a bunch of big couches.
"Oh," Clarke snorted, looking back at Leah, "You want to climb up the ladder, then jump onto the couch?"
Leah nodded, looking hopeful.
Clarke looked at Monroe.
"No," Monroe said, staring at Leah, "It's too risky. You could break your neck. You could break other parts of your body. No. Neither you, nor Joey are allowed on that ladder."
Clarke chuckled at the disappointed expressions over Joey and Leah's faces.
Monroe sighed, getting up from her chair and walking over to the ladder.
Clarke watched Monroe do this, and was startled, as Monroe got to the ladder and pushed it away from the couches, moving it all the way to the front of the table, so that Clarke and Monroe would be able to see, should Joey and Leah try to move the ladder again.
Monroe then, after keeping the ladder there, walked back to the table and sat down next to Clarke.
She looked right at Joey and Leah and said in a cold tone, "If I see that ladder move, the person I see moving it, will be in deep trouble."
Both Joey and Leah looked sad, and lowered their heads, but didn't go against her words. Monroe said in a gentler tone, "If you want to go do something fun? You can run around the room, as long as you don't go outside. And don't go anywhere near that ladder."
Joey and Leah nodded, got up and wandered off.
Clarke chuckled, looking at Monroe, impressed, "Wow, you take to parenting well."
Monroe snorted, "I'm good at making sure people don't do stupid things. That's it."
She added, smiling, "Besides, I have a feeling you want to talk more about what we were talking about before." At Clarke's curious expression, Monroe said, "About Dante?"
Clarke was startled again. Monroe had caught that, huh?
It probably was one of those unsurprising and overwrought things, but Clarke and Wells, growing up, had learned a lot about Dante and his work from their father-and yes, Clarke considered her father Wells's father, since Wells's biological father? Might as well have never been in Wells's life.
Much like Abby might as well never been Clarke's mother.
And Jake Griffin, he often would go over Dante's work, not just finding it interesting and different in fiction, but also criticizing it, saying it was ridiculous how in the Inferno section of the Divine Comedy, those that weren't Christian, automatically went to hell. Or how suicides automatically went to hell. And how homosexuals automatically went to hell. When Clarke and Wells were becoming teenagers, and Jake realized that a lot of conservative groups would try to get the two children to listen to them, especially because Clarke and Wells would be politically involved in the Ark one day, so, he had made sure that they questioned any of the religions that people might throw at them, that might potentially teach them to never ask questions. And to see anything that had the "it's this way or the highway," narrative, that Christianity and Dante's work alike, so loved to take.
For Clarke, the Divine Comedy, was both a book to be fascinated by, and to be questioned endlessly. Both to be admired for revamping the whole idea of heaven and hell and purgatory, and western fiction, in general, and to be criticized for the narrow mind behind who wrote it, for believing things like suicides, those that were atheists or non-Christians and homosexuals, automatically going to hell.
A person could admire someone's work, while still being critical of it.
Clarke honestly thought it to be impossible to "separate the art from the artist." No, she didn't think she could do that. But she was sure that she both could enjoy talking about that work and pull the "logic" of the work apart, as well.
Clarke chuckled, "I think we'd need a bit more alcohol for that."
"I don't know about that," Monroe said, "From the things I've heard about that book? Can't be all that different from taking drugs or drinking a lot."
Clarke almost burst out laughing. Well, Monroe wasn't wrong about that. Anyone who read even one section of the Divine Comedy would be able to say, "Wait, was Dante on something when he wrote this?"
On the shores of northern Italy, the ships were secured and walking through several parts of the city, which Demona, Elisa and their warriors had come to, which was close to Turin, Italy, and they were armed with both regular weapons and magical weapons.
They had sent a few ships off to the other cities. Because Turin was the closest to the shoreline where Demona and Elisa's ships were, that was where they decided to start. They had sent warriors off to inspect Milan, Bologna and Pesaro.
They had radios. So, should anyone find anything? Demona and Elisa would know.
Several of the stone encased, sleeping gargoyles were moved out, the guards carting them around, being very careful.
Demona checked the sun, watching it get somewhat lower. They wouldn't have long, till the sun set and she was back in her proper gargoyle form.
Elisa smiled, watching Demona watch the sun.
It wasn't that was necessarily a surprise. Demona much preferred being in her gargoyle form, rather in her "weak, pitiful human form," in Demona's exact words, but Elisa knew there was an ulterior reason.
Demona wanted to return to the form that she would be strongest at, so that she could protect Clarke more easily.
Elisa hadn't missed either, that Demona had ordered her great-grandchildren, who lived in their tribe, the grandchildren of Demona's biological daughter, Angela and her mate, Vincent, to remain in the land of the Luwoda.
It was best Demona worry about only one loved one at a time.
Elisa had seen the look of that girl, Clarke. Elisa supposed she understood Demona's reasoning.
Clarke was a lot like Demona, wasn't sure? Distrusting of everyone. Angry. Haunted. Full of self-loathing.
And Elisa had easily seen a lot of the good qualities Clarke had, that the blonde tried so hard not to let people see.
She was brave, she was strong willed, she was intelligent and determined. She was resourceful, pragmatic, and as much as Clarke seemed to be repulsed by every person out there, she clearly was loyal.
After all, she was trying to get the rest of the Ark to come down to protect the people in it, right?
Elisa felt like she could see some of herself in the things Clarke did. And the fact alone that Demona wanted Clarke, was enough reason for Elisa, and she suspected for Fox too, to want to take Clarke in, when the time came.
For now, they were going to start searching Turin. And hear back from anything from the warriors they had sent out with radios, who searched Milan, Bologna and Pesaro.
Beginning their journey across the Atlantic Ocean, was the Commander, Leksa kom Trikru and her warriors. They had many, many miles and many, many days to go, before they would reach the shores of northern Italy.
In Milan, Callie was seated down and was listening to some of the things that many of the priests were saying to each other. The problem was, they were speaking in another language. Callie had heard Italian before, and this wasn't it. She didn't understand Italian, but she had heard it enough to know that that wasn't the language that they currently were speaking.
It was another language.
Callie glanced at Jake and Jake shrugged, showing that he had no idea what language they were speaking, any more than she did.
As the priests still spoke in whatever language it was they were speaking, a figure came over to Callie and Jake.
It was Charmaine Diyoza.
Charmaine sat down on the edge of the table next to Callie and Jake and smirked at them, asking, "Have any idea what they're saying? Or what language their using?"
Callie shook her head. "Have no clue," She confessed, even if she didn't like admitting such things to this woman.
"Not surprising," Charmaine said, "This an obscure language. One thought to be lost to the ages."
"It's not Latin, is it?" Jake asked.
Charmaine snorted, "No. Some people still know Latin. Don't see the point of that, but some people still do. No, this language was allowed to us magically, by Moloch. Before Moloch gave us this enlightenment, that language could only be found in written word. Or languages, if you will. There are more than one language that we know, given to us by Moloch, and thought to no longer exist in spoken form."
At Callie and Jake's curious looks, Charmaine chuckled again and answered, "You know them as Akkadian languages. Sumerian. Assyrian. Amongst other languages spoken in those areas that no longer commonly are spoken anywhere, except here."
Callie gaped and Jake actually gave an impressed and stunned laugh.
Some of the oldest languages in the world.
And these people knew those languages.
Honestly, Callie was finding more and more reasons not to want anything bad to happen to these people. It would certainly be a waste to kill people like this.
There was the sound of a door opening and closing behind Callie and Jake, and they heard someone approaching-running, and heard a girl's voice crying out, "Mama!"
They both turned, startled to see a young girl of about ten or eleven-and Callie quickly recalled that Charmaine had said that Hope was ten, with very short, almost white hair running over, running right into Charmaine's now open arms.
"Hope, my love," Charmaine exclaimed, smiling at the girl in her arms, "What have I told you? No coming into the meeting room, while we're planning strategies."
The girl against Charmaine, nodded. "I know, mama," she said, "But I missed you. And uncle Joseph's lessons are so boring."
"I know, I know," Charmaine chuckled, kissing the girl's forehead, "How about this? How about you wait with uncle Joseph, and I'll join you in a few minutes, alright?"
Hope nodded again, and Charmaine let her go, and the girl was about to leave the room, when she noticed Callie and Jake.
"Hello," Hope said to them, "Who are you?"
"Oh, us?" Jake said, smiling, "We're no one. Your grandpa brought me back to life. And Callie is a friend of mine."
"Oh, grandpa brought you back?" Hope asked, brightening, "Yeah, he does that sometimes. He says that only the worthy should be brought back to serve Moloch. The rest can stay dead."
Callie eyed Hope, disturbed at the sounds of the words that this girl was saying.
"Hope, that's enough, sweetie," Charmaine said, "I don't think we want to disturb our guests, more than necessary. Go outside and wait for me, alright?"
Hope nodded, walked past Jake and Callie, then left the room.
Charmaine said apologetically, "I'm sorry. She's young and still trying to understand how things work in our family. I hope she didn't offend in any way."
"No, no, not at all," Jake said, shaking his head, "No offense taken. I imagine that she has a hard time seeing anyone outside of her family as not…I suppose, "special." It's understandable, actually."
Charmaine chuckled, "I'm glad you don't take any offense to that. Hope can be somewhat blunt."
Callie tried not to facepalm. The bluntness of a child was the thing being criticized, apparently. Not the crimes committed by the adults.
Charmaine added, "I'm sure this is difficult for the both of you. To have the girl back that you both love a great deal. Only for you to see her marry someone."
Callie grimaced. She'd been hoping to forget that part.
But Jake, again, took everything extremely well.
Jake just smiled cordially.
"Oh, I won't take it hard a tall," he said to Charmaine, "After all, this is all for us surviving in a world where the tribes have made it clear that we are unwelcome, correct? Well, then I can see a great deal of benefit from this. And while normally, I wouldn't agree with having my daughter marry anyone against her will, from what's been described to me, it sounds as if she will have power over everyone by the time this is over."
"Yes, actually," Charmaine said, smiling at Jake, "That's the heart of the issue. And as I would never abuse any romantic relationship I'd have, and abuse against one's partner is forbidden by Moloch, I promise you that Clarke has nothing to fear from me. Besides, from what I've heard about her, the moment I even tried anything like that, I'd probably be dead," Charmaine chuckled, smirking at the prospect.
Callie shifted uncomfortably.
How nonchalant this woman was about everything, made her very nervous.
Callie still felt herself ask the question, "What will happen when all of the tribes are wiped out? And when you have whatever it is that the Commander has that opens whatever device in Rome?"
"Oh, that," Charmaine said, nodding, "Well, after we get the device she has, which is an AI chip, the entirety of the world will recognize our sovereignty. We don't need any of the tribes alive for that. Besides, they're so savage that they're not of any use to us alive, anyway. But the rest of the world? They'll be underlings to us."
Callie tried not to feel sick. Ah, world domination. Because what else would they have been after?
"How would an AI chip help?" Callie asked.
"Because," Charmaine explained, "Before the world collapsed to shit, almost a century ago? Devices were placed all over the world, by people who were hoping to bring world peace, by using AIs to project images of people from around the world-speakers, to command other countries to be at ease. These devices were never enacted. However, when we get ahold of that AI chip? We will enact those devices. An image of I or Clarke, will be projected through the world and we will demand that the entire world bends to us."
Callie bit her lip and asked the question that she knew what vital here. "And if they don't?" She asked.
Charmaine smirked at Callie. "Well," she said, "You Ark people aren't the only ones with weapons. And yes, we have bombs. But we don't need bombs for when we want to put someone in their place. We have magic. Remember, Moloch isn't just the god of child sacrifice. He likes using fire. From what I hear, Clarke does too. So, if the rest of the world doesn't obey? Well, out will come the fire."
Callie tried to ignore how sickened she felt by this information.
Again, Jake looked disturbingly happy about all this.
He nodded to Charmaine. "Well," he said, "I understand that. Now, I was told that there were two kids that Clarke and her girlfriend, Monroe more or less adopted. Joey and Leah, right? What's going to happen to them?"
Callie tensed. She remembered Joey and Leah being mentioned before. Jake's question made her nervous.
These people were all for "child sacrifice." What did that mean for Joey and Leah?
Especially since clearly, Charmaine would probably like it if Hope was the "heir" to whatever kingdom that she and Clarke ruled before whenever their permanent deaths eventually came.
So, then, it was unlikely that Charmaine would like the idea of any possible rival heirs like Joey or Leah, interfering.
Charmaine, much to Callie's further suspicion, just smiled at Jake.
"While I'm hoping for Hope to be the primary heir to my and Clarke's kingdom eventually," Charmaine said, "I'm sure that we can arrange to split the inheritance up in threes, and give some of it to Joey and Leah. But the most of it will go to Hope."
Callie watched Charmaine, distrusting.
So, Charmaine was claiming that she would give Joey and Leah some of the pie as well?
Callie couldn't say that she believed what Charmaine was saying.
It was all just too convenient.
Jake then said, "May I ask where the AI chip is that we're supposed to find?"
Charmaine then smirked very widely. "Oh," she said, "Didn't we mention? The current commander of the twelve tribes? Lexa of the Trikru tribe? She's coming on a ship in the direction of Italy. Even as we speak. And do you know what she has in her possession? The AI chip."
Callie's eyes widened. Oh, shit.
The current commander was coming to them, most likely unaware of what awaited her. And she had just the device that the followers of Moloch, desired for world domination.
Callie felt the very strong desire to curse suddenly.
Onboard the ship where Leksa kom Trikru and her warriors were, the current commander of the twelve tribes, Leksa, looked ahead over the port bow, knowing that the sun would lower in the sky in several hours. She was not yet in the time zone in which Italy was, so, it would be a while.
As she felt the cool air brush past her face, making her brown hair flow in the wind, she also knew she was glad she had kept the device that Titus had always told her to never let out of her sight, on her person.
It was a small, rectangular, metal piece of some sort.
Leksa trailed her hand down to a pouch on her belt, slipped her fingers into the pouch, she held the small device between her fingers and brushed her fingers against the device. Titus had called this device a "chip." Leksa wasn't sure what it was for. However, Titus had explained that each commander was to keep the chip with them at all times and to never part with it.
Leksa would do that and hoped that the chip would be safest on her.
She didn't know why, but Titus had made it very clear, with near fear, that the chip was never ever to leave any commander's side.
Leksa didn't know what Titus feared might happen, but she always took his words to heart.
All the way in Milan, in the library where Clarke, Monroe and the others were staying, Clarke took note of the sight of the light that had used to come in through the windows, declining, which meant that the sun was lowering rapidly.
Not much of a surprise, as she and the others had slept very late last night. And this morning.
She and Monroe had surprisingly had a long, and deep discussion about Dante.
They occasionally would check the ladder that Monroe had moved and would check the rest of the room, to make sure Joey and Leah hadn't run off, then would turn back to each other and talk more.
They would discuss Dante's use of the symbolism of animals in the Divine Comedy-and yes, Monroe knew about the animals at the beginning of the works, the she-wolf, the lion and the leopard. Monroe pointed out that the animals were probably meant to symbolize the different sins. Lust, greed, gluttony and whatever else.
Clarke had agreed in this.
Monroe then had talked about why the hell Medusa had been at the beginning of the sixth circle, when Medusa would have made more sense showing up in either the fifth or seventh circle.
When Monroe had asked that, Clarke actually had laughed. She explained that Medusa had been at the very end of the circle of anger. However, she admitted that Medusa probably was better to be at the front of the circle of anger, guarding it. And Clarke admitted to Monroe's point, that Medusa should have been used more in the Divine Comedy. That was a good point. Given that Clarke actually had read a good portion of the Divine Comedy-she honestly was confused by why Medusa hadn't been used more, rather than just having her show up at the end of the fifth circle.
Then Monroe asked Clarke something that startled Clarke, honestly.
Monroe asked if Romulus, from the story of Romulus and Remus, showed up in any of the Divine Comedy.
Clarke tried to remember. No, she didn't think Romulus did and she told Monroe that much.
Which was a surprise for Monroe.
She said, "You know, you'd think Romulus would end up in the Inferno. Somewhere with the prideful or in the circle of anger. Or in the circle of violence."
Clarke nodded. "Oh, sure," she said, "But there are a lot of characters in the Inferno that honestly just shouldn't be there. And I don't just mean people being there out of Dante's bias and bigotry, like suicides, the homosexuals and Jewish people and other non-Christians."
At Monroe's curious look, Clarke added, "There's this character that's in the eighth circle. Personally, I think because of his part in the Trojan war, he should have ended up in the circle of violence, but he shouldn't have been in fraud. Jason. Jason of the Argonauts. He deserved to be tortured in the circle of violence for what he and the rest of the Greeks did to the Trojans, instead of the circle of fraud."
Monroe contemplated the other myths she'd heard of about Jason. "Didn't he abandon Medea?" She said, "His wife?"
"Yeah," Clarke snorted, "But Medea murdered her children as soon as he did. What, he deserves to suffer for leaving her more than she deserves to suffer for murdering their children? Fuck that." Clarke shook her head, "I hate how people try to make Jason, Odysseus, Achilles and the rest of the Greeks in that wooden horse, out to be heroes, when they're just a bunch of rapists and murderers. And I hate how people try to make Medea out to be some feminist figure. She's not. She was just a murderer."
Monroe nodded, absorbing this. Clearly Clarke had strong opinions about the so-called "heroes" of myth.
She said, "You don't think too highly of the Greek heroes, do you?"
Clarke snorted, "Do you? Every Greek hero is a piece of shit, if you look too closely. Except maybe Orpheus."
Monroe chuckled. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. She wasn't going to say that she thought that Clarke's past experiences influenced Clarke's opinion on the subject. Because she was positive that they did.
She asked Clarke, "I have to assume that your lowly opinion on so-called "heroes" is influenced by a lot of the things you've gone through."
"Sure," Clarke grumbled, shaking her head, "Why not? After all, from what I remember, Bellamy and his sister loved Greek myths. So, you know? It makes sense that they were shitty people. They probably both got off on reading the Iliad, and reading about characters invading a city, raping women and taking them as slaves."
Monroe's eyes widened, and recalled something rather important to this conversation. She remembered seeing Pike and Bellamy talking together. And Bellamy had a book in his hands at the time.
That book had been the Iliad.
"You know," Monroe confessed, "I think you're right."
Monroe had long since decided that Bellamy was nothing but a sack of horse shit. But hearing what Clarke said on the subject, not to mention realizing now that Bellamy must have romanticized the Iliad and the violent characters in that book, made her even more disgusted that she had used to be loyal to Bellamy.
The Iliad was a book full of characters that had gotten their rocks off on violence, invading a city and raping millions of women and probably taking them as sex slaves.
And Bellamy had romanticized that.
Why had Monroe ever thought of Bellamy as anything other than a waste of space?
At Monroe's expression, Clarke grumbled, "Tell me."
Monroe chuckled nervously, "I hate telling you this. But Bellamy clearly romanticized the Iliad."
Clarke nodded. "I am in no way surprised," she stated.
Monroe could feel the disturbed air around them, and decided to try to shift the conversation somewhat. She asked, "Sorry, this must sound ignorant. But who was Orpheus?"
Clarke glanced at Monroe, then nodded as she said, "That's not ignorant. Orpheus was yet again, one of the Greek heroes. He was a demigod. Son of Apollo and of a muse. What he was known best for, was his talent for music. Because he was the son of a god, he was exceptional in the instrument he played and in singing. He could compel anyone to listen to him. He fell in love with a woman, Eurydice. She died. He was heartbroken. And he went down to the underworld to try to get her back. He played before the god of the underworld, Hades, and Hades was moved, so he allowed Eurydice to go back with Orpheus. But there was a condition. Orpheus couldn't look back, and couldn't look at Eurydice, until after Eurydice was out of the underworld." Clarke added, smiling sadly at Monroe, "Take a guess at what happened. It's a tragic Greek myth, after all."
Monroe nodded, understanding.
"He looked back at her while they were in the underworld, didn't he?" Monroe said in disbelief.
"Yep," Clarke said dryly, "The oaf. He screwed it all up. All he had to do was not turn around and look at her, and he would have been with her for the rest of his life, till they both went to the underworld together. But no. He turned around, and looked at her, because he couldn't bear not seeing her for another moment. The moron. And he sent her right back to the underworld. Imbecile. So, because he was so sad-you know, sadness he brought entirely on himself, he kept singing sadly and played his instrument and was sad, blah, blah, blah, blah. Then a bunch of maenads came along and tore him to shreds, and he ended up in the underworld with Eurydice, anyway."
Monroe was startled.
What the-?
"Maenads?" Monroe asked.
"Yeah," Clarke answered. Seeing Monroe's confusion, Clarke filled her in.
"Maenads," she said, "Were sort of like demons. They followed Dionysus's beliefs." Clarke added, "Dionysus was the Greek god of-"
"Of wine," Monroe said, smiling, "Yeah, that part I know."
"Sorry," Clarke amended, chuckling, "But the maenads were amongst his followers. As you might have guessed, gods' followers tend to be pretty brutal."
"So I've gathered," Monroe said bluntly, "You don't have a high opinion of Orpheus, either, huh?"
"Why should I?" Clarke snorted, "Orpheus, he has Eurydice with him and knows that all he has to do is not turn around and look at her, and he can be with her for the rest of his life, but nope, he decides to idiotically turn back around. He fucked himself. He might not be a rapist or murder. But he's not too intelligent, either."
Monroe chuckled. While she understood Clarke's reasonings, she also wondered how many of these characters, that Clarke was putting through the wringer, actually existed.
After all, so many other supposedly fictional things existed, why not Greek mythological characters.
She wasn't going to call them "heroes," because Clarke obviously didn't like seeing them that way, but she had to wonder how many of them, if all of them, actually existed at one time.
Something about what Clarke said about Orpheus and Eurydice, caused Monroe to sigh, looking at Clarke, hoping Clarke would soften her opinion about Apollo's possibly fictional or possibly real child, "You know, if I was in his position, and I was told that I couldn't look at you until we were out of the underworld, I'm not sure I'd be too confident, either."
Clarke chuckled, looking at Monroe as if Monroe was naïve. "If the option was to look at me for just a second, before I went to the underworld, or wait until we were out, so that you could see me for the rest of your life," Clarke said, "Which would be the logical thing to choose?"
Monroe nodded. "I know, I know," she confessed, "You're right. You're absolutely right. But I'm just saying? I get the emotions behind what Orpheus did. I get why he would do that. Logically? I get why it would be for the best to not look at Eurydice, until they were out. But it would be…not to be able to look at your loved one, after knowing that that loved one died? That would be just….horrendous cruelty, to me."
Clarke was startled, clearly by Monroe's impassioned statement.
She hadn't expected that.
"I guess," she confessed.
Monroe smiled at Clarke's surprise.
Clarke shook her head as she said, "You know, it's a huge pity that you didn't get the usual education that kids like Wells and me got. The teachers would either have hated you or loved you."
Monroe laughed, "I'm guessing? They would have hated me."
"Eh," Clarke shrugged, "I wouldn't be so sure about that. You'd probably be the teacher's pet in seconds."
Monroe snorted.
Honestly, that was a hilarious mental image. Her, Zoe Monroe, first class pickpocket and thief and thug, the teacher's pet?
That was ridiculous. Then again, Monroe figured that Clarke needed a laugh, after everything.
A few more hours went by, and Clarke, Monroe and the others ate a few figs and oranges. It got sugar into their system, but they knew they'd need protein eventually.
They found a place that had fresh water spilling out, near the city, the people that had been sent out to fetch the fresh water, Anya and Sekena, brought back several full jugs of water.
The group drank that fresh water, and checked the sun as it lowered in the sky.
It would be close to night now.
Clarke checked her father's watch.
By the time zone of the United States, it was almost 6 o'clock.
Which meant, by the time zone of Italy, which was later than the time zone of the United States, so, right now it was probably about 10 or 11 o'clock, northern Italy time.
The group set up the place to be more hospitable to them sleeping.
Several of them wiped the layers of dust off of the floor and off of couches. They laid out furs and pieces of cloth down around the large room.
They made sure they all kept the sleeping places close together.
They didn't want to risk losing track of each other.
Clarke laid down between Monroe and Niylah. Joey and Leah laid down next to Monroe.
Anya laid down not far from them and Sekena laid down next to her.
The other Grounders set up their sleeping rolls there.
Jasper and Monty slept next to each other.
The first "watch duty," was given to Pascal and Wells.
The next people on duty, would be Anya and Niylah.
As the group slept with Pascal and Wells watching out of the windows of the library, Clarke snuggled against Monroe's chest, she eventually went off to sleep.
As soon as she did, she was back in that landscape full of tall, jagged rocks.
And again, that same man that Clarke had seen before, stood before her.
Clarke this time, didn't waste words. She just said, staring at the far too innocent looking and far too normal looking man, "Loki."
The man smirked.
"That's cheating," he said, "You asked about me."
"Do you care?" Clarke asked.
"No," Loki said, "I suppose I don't. Now, then. I need to speak more with you about what's coming. About Moloch's followers and how you and those with you, might be able to stop them."
Author's note
I meant a lot of what I said in this chapter. Most Greek mythical heroes are garbage, when you look at them too closely.
Me on the subject of Orpheus and Eurydice: Think people will realize this is foreshadowing?
Also me: Nah, no chance of that.
I probably should have said this at the beginning of the chapter, but this is dealing with actual Norse mythology. Not Marvel Norse mythology.