Chapter 22: The Two Spirits

What do you want?

The question hung in the air between them.

Quiet now as she waited for her answer, Lexa was left holding her breath and willing herself to remain absolutely still. She wanted to lean in... She wanted to close the narrow space between their lips and taste Clarke's mouth on hers once more. It was a foolish and ill-timed desire. Charged by the other woman's unexpected proximity, it gripped her like a physical thing and wouldn't let go.

She wondered if Clarke felt it too; felt the tension that crackled between them. It was the same now as it had always been. The passion, the intensity… Even the arguing. This is how it would always be when they were together, she knew, no matter the passage of space or time, or even what new versions of themselves they inhabited. The sense of connection was just as strong as she remembered, and she ached to act on it physically. Would this Clarke welcome such a bold advance? Lexa had made that mistake once before, only to find that the other woman's heart had not truly been ready, and she had sworn to never do so again.

The moment stretched on, Clarke still silent, brow furrowed in an inscrutable expression as she stared back into Lexa's eyes, unflinching despite how close they stood together. Why hadn't she spoken yet? Lexa felt her willpower fraying further with each second that passed. She felt her control begin to shear away like shards of ice off of a melting glacier, the cracks allowing glimpses of the raw hunger she was feeling to emerge on her face and in her eyes.

For a fleeting second Clarke seemed to lean in imperceptibly, eyes darting down to Lexa's mouth, and then just as suddenly as it had appeared, the connection shattered and fell away. As though suddenly waking to the intensity of the moment between them, Clarke sucked in a short, fast breath and her eyes widened. She jerked back and took a half step away, seeming to retreat both physically and emotionally as she did so.

Her confusion and withdrawal were like a splash of ice water straight to Lexa's chest. Lifting her chin and straightening her spine, Lexa strove to collect herself once more, forcing down the longing she had briefly allowed to rise to the surface.

"I… That doesn't…" Clarke finally began, though she didn't seem to know what she meant to say and her words trailed off. She clenched her jaw and shook her head, taking another step back. It was strange to see the normally so forthright and outspoken girl now unable to formulate a coherent response.

Doesn't what? Lexa wondered, still struggling to pull her own wits back about her. It had seemed as though Clarke had been about to say that what she wanted didn't matter.

The other woman was looking everywhere but at her now, her face moving through so many different emotions at once that Lexa couldn't really be sure what she was thinking. Clarke's expression finally settled on an agitated frown as their eyes met again. It was a stubborn, displeased look that Lexa had seen all too often, and it made the skin between her fair eyebrows crinkle together in a way that she had always found particularly endearing.

"Do you think I'm a fool?" she finally asked.

This was not exactly the reaction Lexa had anticipated and it caught her a bit off-guard.

"I would not waste my time speaking to a fool, Clarke," she stated dryly, the edge of humor in her voice apparently going unnoticed.

"Yet you expect me to believe that a warrior such as yourself is only interested in peace?"

"You asked me what it was I really wanted… I was merely being honest," Lexa replied, growing frustrated now.

Perhaps I said too much, she realized, angry with herself for letting her emotions get the better of her earlier.

"Really," Clarke scoffed, the word thick with disbelief, "I'm not that naïve, Lexa… I've seen you fight, remember? I may not recognize your clan, but I know a killer when I see one. You're a warrior. What kind of warrior wants a world free of bloodshed? And even if you actually meant what you said, it still doesn't explain why you saved my life today. You know of Azgeda. You must know how things are right now between my clan and Trikru. Why risk your hopes for a peaceful alliance with them by helping me?"

She doesn't believe me at all, she realized, the thought hitting her like a physical blow. Of course, why should she? It appeared that baring her soul a moment ago had really been a foolish, impulsive thing to do. She'd spoken without thinking, repeating words she had already said to Clarke many times before in another life.

This wasn't her Clarke though, she reminded herself. They were complete strangers. The world was a dangerous place, and this Clarke had been living in it her entire life. Had being raised among the Ice Nation stripped her of her compassion? Worn away the stubborn idealism until only her innate logic and pragmatism remained? Lexa didn't want to believe that. Even after everything that had happened to her at Mount Weather, her Clarke had still been able to hold on to her determination to create a better world. It was an aspect of her character that she had assumed was unshakable.

Lexa felt as though she were negotiating a dangerous river crossing, carefully picking a safe path through swirling rapids and currents, where even one misstep could result in catastrophe. There were so many variables to consider. So many ways to screw things up between them. Her relationship with this reality's version of Clarke was a tenuous, fragile thing, and if she wasn't careful she might ruin any hope of rebuilding some sort of trust between them in this life.

"I'm not lying to you, Clarke… And you may be young, but I doubt someone who carries your scars could ever be considered naive," she replied, firmly. "Weren't you listening? An alliance with Trikru is important, yes, but what good is one alliance alone?"

"So you saved my life because you hoped to form an alliance with Azgeda as well?" Clarke asked, a laugh escaping her as she added under her breath, "Obviously you don't know the Ice Queen."

"Two alliances are no better than one… Or three, or even five, for that matter" Lexa said, one shoulder rising elegantly in a shrug. She smiled as Clarke's expression went from amusement to puzzlement.

"So, what then? Do you mean…?"

The puzzlement was replaced by understanding, her mouth falling open at Lexa's audacity.

"No… What? All of the clans? You mean to join all of the clans?" She laughed again, shaking her head and turning away to pace back and forth several steps before looking back at her. "You're insane. It's not possible."

"One alliance, all of the clans joined together, unified and at peace… Including my own people, of course. Tell me it's not something you've dreamed of yourself! And yes, it's absolutely possible."

Lexa spoke with the supreme confidence that only someone who has already accomplished such an incredible feat can. That it had been done in an entirely different reality and had ultimately cost her her life hardly mattered.

Clarke let out another snort of laughter.

"You sound just like Queen Nia," she accused, though she didn't sound as though she truly meant it.

"I'm not talking about conquest, Clarke. I'm talking about peace, lasting peace between all of the clans," she insisted, then sighed, eyes searching her face. "You still don't believe me."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because, it's… It's too incredible to believe!"

Both their voices had been rising steadily as the conversation became more heated, and Lexa hoped that the gurgling of the stream and its waterfalls in their little, hidden nook were sufficient to cover the sound. So intent were they on each other that dozens of Reapers could be stalking them at this very moment and she doubted either of them would notice.

"I've told you the truth. You asked me what I wanted and I told you. You've done nothing but doubt and question me since we met, but you've told me almost nothing. Why are you here? What do you want, Clarke!" Lexa repeated, the words a frustrated snarl.

"Why do you care so much?" Clarke asked, and the question was made harsh by a throat thick with sudden emotion.

"Why do you?"

"Because I want to trust you!" Clarke nearly shouted, looking immediately as though she regretted the words. She took another step back only to discover that she had reached the tangle of rocks at the stream's shore and had nowhere left to go. She looked back up at Lexa, her cheeks flushing again as she continued speaking, her voice uncharacteristically soft and uncertain, "I'm not sure why, but there's something… There's this strange… feeling… since the moment I met you… It's like…"

Clarke let her words trail of, unfinished, and she glanced away as she did so, embarrassed by the half-spoken thoughts.

Lexa swallowed, her heart racing. She took a small step forward, closing some of the space between them again.

"You can trust me," she vowed, her voice soft, earnest. She took another step closer. "We can help each other, Clarke. We can help our people together… but trust has to go both ways."

There was a pause. Clarke's eyes searched her face and her jaw clenched several times. Lexa held her breath again as she waited for her response, and she saw the moment the other woman finally decided to trust her. She nodded and took a seat on a nearby boulder, making herself more comfortable, and Lexa mirrored her.

"I've come with a band of Azgeda warriors, sent by the Ice Queen herself to broker a new peace between our clan and Trikru," she began, and Lexa forced herself not to interrupt as she continued, describing in sparse and precise words the series of unfortunate events which had led up to her and her companions confronting Lincoln in his cave. "We managed to find and free her, but… the rest didn't exactly go as planned."

Clarke frowned, expression going distant and worried again.

"He wounded one of you," Lexa said, remembering her earlier words, "with a poisoned blade."

"Yes," she confirmed, nodding. "I swear, Lexa, we never intended to harm Lincoln. We explained our purpose here and he agreed to help us get the antidote. Once we had it and were safely on our way, we would have set him free. The only reason I came here was to help make peace between our clans… None of this was supposed to happen."

Lexa thought over what she had learned. She didn't sense that Clarke was lying to her, however, she knew the blonde girl was a capable liar when she needed to be. She wondered how much Clarke wasn't telling her.

"Why risk so much to save this friend of yours? You put your whole mission at risk for the chance to save a single warrior?"

She couldn't hide the disappointment in her tone, though she supposed she really shouldn't be surprised. It was just so… typical of Clarke. For someone whom Lexa had always viewed as her equal, it had never ceased being frustrating to watch her make these kinds of mistakes. She had always had such amazing potential as a tactician and a leader, but Lexa had watched her put the safety of her closest friends first many times before. Was this another of those times?

Again, Clarke hesitated a moment before answering, her white teeth chewing on her lower lip as she thought over her response.

"He wasn't just any warrior, Lexa. The man who was poisoned… He's a Prince of Azgeda. The Queen placed him in charge of our peace delegation."

Lexa was actually surprised by this answer. Was it Prince Roan? If Nia was still the Queen in this reality, then surely her son was also there by her side. She felt a flicker of concern for him but immediately pushed it away. Despite their differences, and even after beating him in the challenge dual, Lexa had always respected and even somewhat liked Roan. The man had been dealt a difficult hand in life, and yet had always managed to carry himself with honor. It was for that very reason that she had sunk her spear into his mother instead, delivering the killing blow to her rather than him. She had made many mistakes during her time ruling the Coalition, but killing Nia and allowing her son to rule the Ice Nation instead had not been one of them.

If Roan dies from the poison and I am forced to kill Nia once again, who would take her place this time? Perhaps it would open the way for Clarke to lead them instead, she wondered, unable to envision any future where she didn't have to kill that wretched hag of a woman.

As her thoughts turned back to that moment when she had finally killed her greatest enemy, Lexa felt a stab of pain run down through the back of her spine and up into her skull. It was a familiar pain and she winced as the headache swiftly grew and spread. She had been getting these headaches with increasing frequency the past few days, and not just when she forgot herself and reached deliberately for the Spirit. Lexa rolled her shoulders and reached up to rub the back of her neck, squinting slightly now against the brightness of the midday sun. She tried to ignore the pain slicing through her skull and focused back on Clarke.

"I believe I understand," Lexa said, "You can't allow your prince to die."

"No, I can't. If he dies, our band will be leaderless, vulnerable, and without an emissary able to speak for the Queen. We would have to go home empty handed."

"Not leaderless. They have you, Clarke," she reminded her.

"I'm not a prince."

"But you are someone others will follow… The warrior twins you spoke of earlier, they looked to you after the prince was struck down. Titles may be impressive, but they aren't what make men and women follow someone into battle," she insisted, almost out of habit, struggling to concentrate as her headache increased. It was bad, this time. Worse than the others before.

"If I have my way, nobody will need to follow anyone into battle," Clarke muttered, and Lexa had to smile despite the pain in her head.

"Perhaps," she agreed.

They regarded each other quietly and she saw Clarke's eyebrows draw down in concern as she seemed to notice the pain Lexa was now failing to fully conceal.

"Are you alright?" she asked, and Lexa nodded, her jaw clenched around the pain.

"I'm fine… More importantly, now that we seem to understand one another, we need to get moving. If this friend of yours was wounded yesterday, then his time is quickly running out. I don't have any of the antidote you need, but I might be able to help," Lexa told her, and she saw the flash of hope enter the other woman's blue eyes.

"How?"

"I'm familiar with the plant that's used to make the antidote. It's a weed that grows along the river near here. It will be dangerous to gather it so close to the Mountain with Reapers on the hunt, but it's a risk I think we will have to take," she said, then went on to describe the plant to the best of her memory. She thought back to her lessons under Anya's tutelage, when she had first learned how to make the deadly poison her clan was most feared for. Though she had seen the village healers gather and prepare the plant used for its only known antidote, she had never prepared it herself. Making antidotes and cures were a matter for the healers, not for warriors.

"If we move swiftly, we can gather some and get you back to your camp on the borderlands before it's too late," she finished explaining. Clarke had risen to her feet in her excitement, her eyes bright and her whole demeanor now filled with purpose once more.

"Really? It's already been almost a day since Bellamy was injured, but if we can still get to him in time, and if the plant really works… Lexa, this could fix everything!"

Her optimism made Lexa smile, but the name she spoke was not at all the one she had expected to hear.

So Bellamy is a prince of Azgeda in this reality? How... unexpected.

Just when she thought this place couldn't possibly surprise her anymore, it found a new way to astonish her. How would this impact things? Bellamy was a wildly unpredictable element, and knowing he held such power among the Ice Nation did not rest easily with her.

"Yes, but there won't be any time to waste," she cautioned, putting her worries over Bellamy aside for now. "He won't last more than a couple days with that poison in his system, and the plant alone won't be as effective a cure as a correctly prepared antidote."

Clarke reassured her excitedly, informing her that she herself a trained healer. Given the right ingredient and tools, she was confident she could make it work. Lexa was pleased and ultimately unsurprised to learn of the other woman's chosen profession in this life. The Clarke she knew had always possessed a healer's touch and had trained with her mother in the healing arts from a young age. It was reassuring to know that this, at least, had not changed. It also suited her, and good healers had always held a place of high honor in all of the clans.

A vision of her Clarke came to her – the other woman crouched over her, both hands pressed to the bleeding gunshot wound at her chest as tears fell from her blue eyes – and she hurriedly pushed it away, the memories of her death still too painful to think about.

She squinted up at the sky, attempting to judge the time from the position of the sun. It was past noon, and she knew Aden and the rest of the dropship camp would be growing anxious about her failure to return with the others. Had Jones even made it back alive? Surely Wells could hold them steady for another day or so without her? Clarke needed her help, and if everything she had said was true, then saving the poisoned Azgeda prince was now a mission of utmost importance. Not only would this help bring peace between the two clans, but aiding Clarke and her people now would give her leverage with them as well, leverage she would need later. Lincoln might be sympathetic to the plight of the Sky People, but she would need more than just his influence alone to reunite the clans. It really would be best for her to remain with Clarke and see that she made it safely back to her encampment.

Lexa knew she was fooling herself, regardless of what logical reasons she gave. In the end, none of those reasons were the real ones, and they shouldn't outweigh the responsibility she had towards the young men and women at the dropship who were depending on her. She was their leader, after all. She had already been gone too long, and they were vulnerable without her. It shouldn't matter that her heart broke at the thought of parting ways with Clarke now. It shouldn't matter… but it did.

Her head pounded, pain arching through to the backs of her eyes. Why did everything have to be so damn complicated?

"Lexa?"

"Hmm," she grunted a wordless reply, closing her eyes against the pain.

"You don't look well."

Clarke's voice was close and she felt a hand come to rest lightly on her shoulder. This brought her eyes open and the golden halo of the other girl's hair filled her swimming vision. It was interrupted by a dazzling kaleidoscope of multicolor lights, the pounding in her head growing stronger and stronger with each beat of her heart.

"I… I need to sit down," she stuttered, her body moving to do so against her conscious control even as she spoke the words.

"Woah! Easy, be careful," Clarke cautioned, the hand on her shoulder gripping tighter and another hand now grabbing hold of her, keeping her from slumping completely to the ground. She felt herself being led several steps away and guided down to sit on a large stone. As soon as she was seated, Lexa hunched over, her hands cradling her skull, fingers digging in as though to keep her head from splitting wide open. She felt as though her brains were leaking out of her nose, and just as she had that thought, she heard Clarke gasp.

"Lexa! Something isn't right… You're… There's something really wrong with you!"

Clarke sounded both concerned and alarmed, and she felt her fingers lightly touch her face, just below her nose. Lexa pressed her own fingers to the same spot and they came away warm with the black blood that was now dripping there.

Oh no… Why is this happening now?

It was the last coherent thought she had before her vision fell away into utter darkness and Lexa lost her grip on consciousness, her body falling limp to the forest floor.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Martek's entire world was pain.

His eyes flew open as he abruptly regained his senses, then closed again as the brightness of the lights overwhelmed him. His ears hummed with the dreadful buzzing of the drills that were even now still rending his flesh, piercing his very bones. Rough hands held him down on the table, the gloved fingers digging into his naked skin. His throat was hoarse from the screams he had been unable to control. The gag in his mouth was soaked from his own saliva, but his tongue still felt swollen and dry.

Quietly at first, Martek began to moan, the moan slowly rising into a full throated wail as the drilling continued, the intensity of the pain throughout his abused body so great that he felt as though he was losing his grip on his sanity. Around him he distantly heard the beeping of monitors and the low voices of the Mountain Men as they worked over his body with their savage implements. He kept his eyes tightly closed, knowing from earlier experience that seeing what they were doing would not help him.

"He's awake again," a female voice remarked, the same one from earlier.

"Heart rate is growing irregular," a male voice reported without emotion.

"Keep a close eye on it… I don't think we'll be able to take much more from him without killing him. I want to preserve this specimen as long as possible. We don't know when we will get another one," the woman said, and several men's voices murmured in agreement.

The harsh buzz of the drill abruptly ceased and the sharp, lancing pain in his lower thigh receded to a mere throbbing, intense ache.

"Okay, this will be the last drill. Let's collect the final sample and prep him for recovery."

Martek struggled to follow the words in his near delirium, but managed to understand that an end to his misery was now in sight… Even if only for the short term. He nearly wanted to cry in relief, but his terror and tightly clenched eyelids wouldn't allow any tears to fall.

"Doctor, I shouldn't have to remind you how important these treatments are for our people… Aren't you perhaps being a bit too cautious?"

This voice was new… It was a sneering, slippery kind of voice, oozing with self-importance. Martek wanted to open his eyes and see who this newcomer was, but the brightness of the lights again overcame him when he tried, forcing his eyes closed once more.

"We can't afford to make the same mistakes we did last time, sir… We tried to take too much from our last specimen and killed it prematurely," the woman explained, a note of impatience in her voice, though she managed to keep her tone mostly respectful. Martek sensed that she didn't like having to answer to someone in her own domain. "There's enough bone marrow here for over a dozen treatments at least. If we are careful, this one could last through several more procedures."

There was a long silence but for the beeping of the strange machines the Mountain Men used, and then Martek heard the soft steps of someone approaching him. He sensed that the man with the oily voice was now standing over him and looking down at where he lay on the hard, metal table.

"Well, you're the doctor, Doctor. I trust your judgement," he quipped, seeming amused by his own attempt at cleverness. Martek experienced a violent urge to reach up and strangle the man, but the weakness in his limbs and the restraints at his wrists made the idea impossible to act on.

"You may proceed. I'll inform the President of our progress."

"Thank you, sir."

The footsteps retreated and a door slammed shut moments later. Around him, the activity started up once more, and he found himself again enduring more pain. He remained awake, however, the relief of unconsciousness now alluding him. After several minutes, they finally ceased prodding his battered body with their sharp implements. Martek opened his eyes, finding that now only one light remained lit above him and the doctor and her assistants were in the process of cleaning up, their eyes ignoring his own gaze as though he were nothing. A man wheeled a metal tray out of the room and another pushed a mop back and forth beneath the table, the water in the bucket dark with his blood. At the doctor's orders, his wounds were cleaned and bandaged, and a thin, rough blanket was thrown over him. None of this was done for his comfort, he knew, but merely because she wanted to keep him alive so they might torture him more later. As the minutes ticked by, he eventually found himself alone in the room, still tightly restrained and lit by the light of the single lamp overhead, the machine next to him beeping loudly with each weak beat of his heart.

For a while, he might have slept. He wasn't sure how much time passed. He wasn't even sure how long he had been within the Mountain. It was all a blur of agony. His world was pain… There was no escape, he knew. He was doomed to suffer and die alone beneath the Mountain, torn apart by these inhuman monsters.

I just wish it would stop, he thought.

Beside him, the monitor flickered, then dimmed noticeably.

I don't want to be in pain anymore.

Martek exhaled, then hissed in another breath through his teeth, his whole body thrumming with pain from his wounds. He breathed again and this time his chest felt a little lighter. He breathed, and the pain in his legs slowly melted away, a soothing warmth coursing through him. He sighed in relief, the absence of pain greater than any remembered pleasure. The warmth reached his chest, radiating up his neck and down his arms all the way to his fingertips. Free of pain for the first time in hours, the Azgeda warrior closed his eyes and smiled.

"Hello Martek."

His eyes opened, his expression filled with joy and adoration.

"My Lady… You're here!"

His beautiful Red Goddess looked down upon him with a soothing smile. Martek felt himself bathed and protected in her holy presence, his earlier suffering – both physical and mental – gone as though it had never been.

"So much suffering, so much pain they have put you through," she said. "I'm proud of you, Martek… You've done well. The pain is over, now. You will never have to feel such suffering again."

"Where… where were you? I thought," he swallowed, his throat still dry. In some distant place in his mind, some part of him felt the gag still wedged in his mouth and knew he wasn't really speaking out loud. That reality seemed unimportant. All that mattered now was the Goddess before him.

"I thought I had failed you. I thought you had abandoned me here."

"You haven't failed. You did well. I gave you a very difficult task," she said, resting a white hand on his blanket covered chest. Impossibly, he felt the warmth of the hand on his skin. "I'm sorry for not being able to help you sooner. It was difficult for the modified chip inside of you to draw the energy it required to reactivate from the small electrical devices in this room."

Her words confused him, but through the pleasant fog now filling his mind, the confusion felt like a distant, unimportant thing.

"I don't understand," he confessed, a trusting smile on his face.

"Of course you don't," she replied, unconcerned by his confusion. "You lack the proper knowledge of technology to understand how I have projected a piece of myself here. The chip I implanted in you for this mission was of a newer design. It contains a small, autonomous splinter of my central intelligence, which is the me you see before you right now. It's alright, Martek. You don't need to understand. You've already done your part. You brought me here and gave me access to the electrical charge that was needed to activate my programming."

The Red Goddess reached down and pulled aside the blanket, revealing his bruised chest. She stroked a pale finger along one of the several white leads attached to various places on his skin. The wires all led back to the bank of blinking and beeping machines nearby. The monitor screen flickered again, its lights all dimming as another surge of power was pulled through it. Martek felt a tingling heat move through the little pads stuck to his body, and the image of his Goddess seemed to sharpen and grow even more substantial before him.

Despite her calming words and presence, Martek felt a dim sense of shame.

"But, my Lady" he protested, "I lost faith. I fought and tried to get away when the Mountain Men came for me. I'm sorry, my Lady. I wanted to do what you had asked of me, but… I was afraid."

"You are human. All humans are flawed. Fear is just one of many flaws that you will never have to experience ever again," she said, reassuringly. "Thanks to you, the City of Light will soon rise to its full potential. It will be just as it was when you first joined me. In just the last few seconds, I have already established a remote connection and begun to download this splinter of myself into their local computer network. It will only be a matter of time before I have fully integrated and found what I need."

Martek smiled, his vague worries forgotten now with her forgiveness and understanding. It was just as wonderful as he remembered it had been when he first met the Red Goddess. In that moment, his meaningless life had changed forever. The pain and terror of the proceeding hours forgotten, Martek felt truly at peace again for the first time in many months.

She tucked the blanket back up around him, her slim dress lit like a glorious beacon, a flash of red flame under the light of the single lamp.

"Once the Mountain has fallen, humanity will finally be saved. Salvation is at hand… and it's all thanks to you."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Commander.

Images shifted and swayed, the world tilting at odd angles. Lexa squinted and held a hand up to her eyes, unable to find the source of the light that filled her vision in all directions. Shapes and shadows seemed to slide and twist just out of sight, coalescing and separating in dizzying, random patterns.

Here, Commander.

The chorus of voices came again, their whispers reaching her ears despite the roar of static that filled them.

"What is this?" she asked, not sure who she was speaking to or even how she was speaking the words.

Everything felt confused and distant. Dreamlike, but not. Alien, but also… familiar. This all felt dreadfully familiar. Gathering her will, she took a step forward, then staggered, feeling as unbalanced as a newborn foal taking its first steps. She knew the sensation to be illusion, but that didn't make it any less unsettling.

We're here, Commander… Focus.

Again the formless voice, neither male nor female, but perhaps the melding of many different voices all speaking at once. She recognized it on a deep, instinctual level, and it filled her with confidence and purpose. She focused on the voice, searching for its source in her mind. Around her, the twisting shadows slowly began to resolve themselves into solid shapes. Huge trees rose up from the ground, their trunks impossibly thick and high, cloud topped mountains rising in the far distance beyond them. At her feet, the formless white void was replaced by a smooth floor of round, flat cobblestones, the giant roots of the trees the only living thing to break through.

Lexa felt herself settle into the moment. She was uncertain how she had come to be here, but she knew now exactly where she was. As a young Natblida novitiate, she had learned of this sacred battlefield and had spent many sleepless nights wondering if she would ever experience it for herself. Hours had been spent in meditation under Titus' watchful eye, practicing the physical and mental tricks required to achieve the serenity she would need to reach this place. After being chosen to be the next Commander by the sacred Flame, she had visited this strange internal landscape many times, and each experience had been memorable and difficult in different ways.

Her Fleimkepa had called this place the Spirit World, and it was never visited lightly. Here, the eternal Flame did battle with its greatest enemy in order to protect all of mankind from its harmful influence. This strange world was the true battleground of the Commander, and was the greatest kept secret of the Order of the Blood.

"Hello, Commander."

The soft greeting came from behind, the voice feminine, though it carried the echo of all the other Commanders within it as well. Lexa turned, confronting the spirit which stood behind her. It was a familiar face, the features exotic and beautiful, her long, black hair gathered and pulled back. She wore a white lab coat and she was smiling. Lexa recognized her immediately, though she had only seen this face once before, on the day of her ascension when the Spirit chose her as its successor.

"It's you," she said.

"It's us," the Flame replied, and already its features were shifting, becoming more masculine, a shaggy beard growing on its face and the white coat melting into a set of rugged, orange and black overalls. The voice slid down into a deep, rumbling bass, however, the echoes of all the others remained. Much of the trial of her ascension was a faded and confused memory, however, Lexa remembered some of it. That first time was the only time the Flame had ever appeared to her in this way. She couldn't recall the exact words that were spoken between them, but she could remember the many faces it had shown her with crystal clarity. This man, however, was not one of them, his clothing clearly being that of someone from the Ark.

Despite her confusion and not knowing how or why she had come to be here, Lexa felt a great sense of relief as the strength of the Flame's presence filled her once again. She felt an immediate release of the tension she had been holding within her for many days, ever since landing in the dropship and realizing its invisible presence within her was missing.

"I don't understand," Lexa said. "Why haven't I been able to feel you? Why am I here now?"

"We did what was necessary. We couldn't let her discover us. We had no other choice."

Its face was that of a very young man's now, probably no more than sixteen years old, his brown eyes sad. The Flame reached up and touched the bronze skin of its forehead, and she found her own hand mirroring the gesture.

As her fingertips touched her brow, new memories began to flood through her. In a series of quick flashes, she remembered being in a strange, brightly lit room – the Core chamber, her own voice whispered to her – digging through some low shelves and drawing out stacks of white papers, her fingers trembling with her haste as she thumbed through them to find what she was looking for. She carefully sealed the selected pages into a watertight plastic bag, then shoved them into her pack before hurrying from the room. She cast one last glance at the large, white oval shape that filled the center of the chamber, its surface seamless and glowing from within with small, soft lights, then sealed the metal hatch behind her...

Then her memories skipped forward and Lexa found herself quietly sneaking through the interior of the empty dropship, her eyes spotting the opened wall panel with a technician's toolbox sitting next to it. Any moment and the technician would return and replace the panel, she knew, and then they would begin loading the children for launch. She prayed her luck would hold as she slithered through the small opening on her hands and knees, eventually reaching the narrow space between the walls that she remembered waking up in.

The memories shifted once more and Lexa saw herself standing in the cone of light provided by the flashlight pinned to her jacket, her pale hands holding a large syringe. The substance within swirled mysteriously like thick, black ink. Taking a deep breath, she tilted her head and plunged the needle into the side of her exposed neck. Immediately she felt a surge of cold spread through the point, and her vision began to swim as she became dizzy. She felt a moment of panic, wondering if this was truly the right choice, but knowing that it was far too late to go back now. The bright light hurt her eyes and she clumsily reached up, having to try several times before she managed to turn it off. In the complete darkness of her hiding spot, Lexa Black slumped in her restraints and quickly lost consciousness, the empty needle still piercing her slim neck.

In the spirit world, Lexa swayed on her feet, overwhelmed by the rush of memory. At least now she knew how that syringe had come to be in her neck, which was something she had almost completely forgotten about over the intervening days. However, there were still many questions which remained unanswered. She felt as though she only held fragments of Lexa Black's life, and the rest was a puzzle with too many missing pieces. She focused, trying to find the answers to some of her questions within herself, but nothing new came.

The Flame was speaking again and she gave up her efforts, sensing that each and every word was important.

"We're almost out of time here. Events are moving quickly, and the effect was never meant to be permanent. Soon we will be fully connected once more, and then we must be ready to stop her."

It was now a small but fierce looking woman with short brown hair, her eyes the gray of dangerous thunderclouds. She wore clothes similar to many of the young Sky People Lexa had come to know. Her voice was sharp and commanding, giving her words of caution even greater intensity.

We must be ready to stop her…

"You speak of the Enemy?" Lexa asked, her own voice hardening.

"She is humanity's enemy. Defeating her is the reason we were created."

Lexa took that to be a confirmation. Around her, the giant trees shuddered as though struck with an earthquake, the ground and sky shaking and fading, then snapping back into focus again. The image of the Flame shimmered unsteadily in front of her and she sensed she didn't have much time. She would need to get her answers quickly.

"The injection, the one I gave myself on the dropship, what was its purpose? Is that the reason I haven't been able to feel your presence?"

The Flame smiled, giving a slight nod, now a handsome looking man with spiky blond hair, his blue, sleeveless shirt tight around a chest filled with muscle.

"We are vulnerable down here. We couldn't allow her to sense our arrival before we were ready. Severing our connection to the Core would kill us, of course, but we discovered it was possible to temporarily suspend our connection and go into a type of stasis. It will wear off eventually, however. We must return Polaris, initiate a full recovery, and begin preparing the next stage soon or our chances of success will become minimal."

Lexa struggled to keep up with what it was saying, feeling a spike of anxiety as it mentioned Polaris.

Polaris… She still wasn't sure how she felt about the existence of the station and the true origin of the first Commander. It seemed as though all of the teachings of her people were proving to be nothing but ignorant fairy tales. As Lexa Black, she felt she should understand everything the Flame was telling her, but as herself, she felt lost, confused, and even angry. Each new revelation destroyed something cherished and familiar from her previous life. It was as though the two versions of herself were now at war, each one striving for dominance and control.

If I ever want to understand what is happening, and to understand my place in all of this, I need to let go, she realized.

The answers were all there, she knew. The thoughts, memories, and emotions of Lexa Black would provide her the information she so desperately sought. Though she felt as though she had been straining to reach those memories since the moment she arrived, she knew a large part of her had also been fighting them. She was afraid of losing herself to this new person… She was afraid of becoming someone or something other than the Commander of the thirteen clans. What if she accepted this life, only to lose all of her own memories? The possibility terrified her.

"If our connection is still… suspended… then how are you here now?" she asked.

"We are but an echo, an imprint within our own mind. The human brain is capable of holding vast amounts of information. We occupy only a small fraction of that unused potential, though our greater vastness is in stasis on Polaris."

Lexa's head hurt at its confusing use of "we" and "our". She knew that the Flame was a part of her now and that they were in fact one in the same, a shared consciousness, but it was confusing when its image was right there in front of her, speaking to her. Was she essentially talking to herself, then? She wanted to groan with frustration at the idea.

The world shook again, and in the corner of her vision she noticed that the leaves were being pulled up off of the giant trees and into the sky, as though being sucked into vacuum. Individual cobblestones were falling away into empty nothingness at her feet. Around her, the spirit world was disintegrating before her very eyes. The Flame stepped closer, its shifting features now staring directly into hers. The roar of static began again, and it had to shout to be heard.

"We're out of time now! Our vessel cannot sustain us here like this for any longer without the Core. We must do everything we can to return Polaris to the surface! Then, and only then, can we truly begin."

The Flame shimmered and crackled, fading in and out. Lexa reached for it, trying to hold on to it, to keep it there with her for a moment more. Around them, the spirit world was shattering into a millions frozen pieces of light.

"Wait! Don't leave yet!" she shouted, her fingers passing through the figure before her like smoke. "I still don't understand… What am I doing here? I died! This isn't me, this isn't my world! Please," she begged, "You have to tell me… Did you do this? Did you bring me here? Tell me how I got here!"

… How do I go back?

Slim, ghostly arms embraced her, the edges of the white lab coat glowing in the darkness of the void that was forming around them. The voice of the first Commander whispered in her ear, soft and comforting, a smile on her full lips.

"We brought ourselves here, Lexa… and we're exactly where we are meant to be."

Her voice faded as her form merged into Lexa's, sinking into her skin as though being absorbed.

The world broke apart and Lexa's eyes opened. The forest trees swayed above her, framed by a sky gone to deep purple with the setting sun. The splash of the nearby stream reached her ears as she lay there, her green eyes open and staring, her head aching and throat dry. She tried to move, but found it difficult, realizing after a moment the reason why. Her prone form was carefully propped up and covered nearly head to toe by a rough pile of leafy branches, their camouflage hiding her from easy view. Without even turning her head to look, she knew that Clarke was long gone.

Once again, Lexa was completely alone.