Blood splattering in all directions. Clashing steel and wails of pain deafening the air. Don't die. Never attack, only defend. Follow Lincoln. Where is he? Keep eyes on him. Octavia wouldn't be far either. Two attacks come Clarke's way. Quick roll out of the way and disappear into the mob of warriors. Always be moving. Lincoln's words rang through her head, a repeating mantra. Keep moving. We cannot afford to be caught. We need to get within the walls. You stop... you die. Clear fields appeared before her. Lincoln and Octavia stood several feet in front of her. They made it, she quickly noted, heading straight for them.
Her arms and legs felt like jelly, but she pushed on. This was war, no time for rest. Her non-sword hand jittered from the adrenaline. More yelling and war cries. The slow and steady twang from bows firing arrows. This is real war, Clarke thought, rasping for air as she moved. The main host clashed up against the walls. Spears flew both directions as the Azgeda tried to set up ladders and hooks to scale the barriers. For now, the Grounders in Polis seemed to be holding. Two bodies fell from the battlements. A stray arrow whizzed dangerously close to her head. This... this is too much.
"Clarke!" Lincoln's voice rang out. She snapped to and focused on his voice. Lincoln ran over to her and grabbed her by the shoulder. "We have to go!"
Clarke nodded and willed her feet to run. Stay on the outside. Keep moving. Her feet were heavy as stone. Survive. That is what she had to do. As long as Polis had walls, they would survive. Her chest pounded as they made their way to a treeline on the outskirts, close enough to the walls. Lincoln dropped to a knee and surveyed the field. The ground came up to meet her as she wasted no time collapsing to the ground, gasping for air. She had fought before, but not like this. The song of swords meeting and warriors yelling rang through the air as she caught her breath.
"Hey," a hand reached down and touched her shoulder and Clarke looked up to see Octavia standing above her. "You okay? You look like you're gonna be sick."
"I might be," Clarke said in all honesty. The world teetered in several directions and her stomach felt like a rolling barrel, sloshing everything around inside. So many of the months she had been away were spent staying clear of death and destruction. Yet here she found herself, right in one of the bloodiest acts humans could partake in. "How much further... until... we're at the secret entrance?" I can't even talk right, she thought. Get a hold of yourself.
Lincoln's hand pointed to a far section of the wall, maybe three hundred yards out. "There," he replied. "There's not much cover, but all the soldiers should be focused at the gate. If we're lucky, there won't be anyone."
"And if we're not?" Clarke asked. The answer was already known to her, she just hoped he had a different one.
"We kill them," Octavia answered. The girl who's entire world and existence was in a small crawlspace was now the bravest of them all. Clarke admired that about her. She just wished that she could steal some of that courage now.
"Let's hope it does not come to that," Lincoln replied. He rose to his feet and crept to the edge of the treeline. Clarke's legs begrudgingly complied. "On my signal, we run."
"What if there's archers?" Clarke asked. The way she saw it, there was no cover between there and the entrance. They also didn't have the luxury of guns, courtesy of Pike. They would be completely exposed.
Lincoln leaned down and stretched out his legs. "Hope they have bad aim," he replied frankly. Not much else could be said, Clarke supposed, but it didn't make the idea any easier. "Get ready," Lincoln warned.
Clarke's heart drummed against her chest. Her left hand shook violently, even when she clenched it into a fist. A quick glance over at the main host of the Azgedan army showed them all focused on the wall. We might just make it, she thought to herself.
"Now!" Lincoln shouted, bolting off towards the secret entrance. Octavia didn't take long to follow her lover. Now, it was Clarke's turn.
The world narrowed and Clarke rushed out as fast as her weakened legs would take her. Nothing existed outside of what she saw in front. A small opening marring a vast wall. Less than a two minute's sprint away. In war, two minutes was a lifetime. Breathe and run. Air parted way in front of her, a gentle whir whispering into her ear. Breathe and run. The door appeared much closer now. Breathe and run. The sound of a bird rang out and a black blur rushed down in front of her. What the... Right in front of her, a crow landed, an arrow protruding through its small frame. Clarke stopped dead in her tracks. Oh no... She turned to face Polis' walls, just in time to see three arrows fall mere feet short of her. They've seen me!
"Keep running, Clarke!" Lincoln shouted out to her, not even breaking stride.
Clarke had mere seconds to react until another volley of arrows streaked into the sky. Blood rushed from Clarke's face as she clumsily attempted to sprint away. There were so many coming. Each miss landing with a resounding thwung, taunting her. Each shot closer and closer to its target. Breathe and run! BREATHE AND RUN! All sense of direction had disappeared. Grass turned into splotches of green, spinning all around her. She no longer saw Octavia and Lincoln. I just saw them. "Lincoln!" she called out, but no answer came. "Octavia!" The arrows were close now. Two feet, then one. Six inches from her face. The door finally came into view. She was going to make it! Octavia and Lincoln are there, just a little fur- THWUNG.
The ground rushed up to meet Clarke as she crashed down into the grass and rocks. "Arrgghhh!" She tumbled a few times and heard a deafening snap below her. The world spun as she tumbled, until her momentum stopped and the clouds came into view. I've been hit, were her first thoughts. Slowly looking down at her body confirmed it. Her hand shook as she saw a long arrow shaft, partly broken, sticking out of her stomach. Blood already had begun to soak everywhere. Clarke's heart raced as she tried to think of what to do. This was bad, extremely bad. Gut shots were some of the worst injuries. She had picked that up from her mother.
There was no respite given to her, as another volley of arrows streaked into the sky. They were going to hit her, she had no doubt. Her mouth opened to scream, but nothing came out. Just the hollow whispers of a dying girl. As the arrows began their descent, Clarke felt strong hands grab her under her shoulders and start dragging. Mere seconds later, the ground where she lay was peppered with arrows. She felt herself being lifted, and saw the face of her savior. "Lincoln?"
"Keep moving," Lincoln urged, wrapping an arm around Clarke and ushering her to safety.
Clarke could see the door up ahead, Octavia standing at the entrance, waving to them. The last few feet to their destination flew by and soon the three of them were inside, alive and safe. Lincoln set her down gently and went to check on Octavia.
"What happened, Clarke?" Octavia asked, brushing off Lincoln.
"What happened?!" Clarke spat back. She pointed to her bleeding stomach. "I got hit by an arrow. Didn't you see?!"
"Clarke..." Lincoln began, a strange look on his face as he approached her. "What are you talking about? I didn't see anyone shooting arrows."
Is he serious? There wasn't any way that he had missed the arrows coming down. "Look at my stomach!" she exclaimed, groaning in pain. "God, it hurts so much." Neither Octavia nor Lincoln moved an inch to help her. "What are you doing?! Help me! I need to get pressure on this to get it stable!" The two lovers looked at each other, weird expressions on their faces that Clarke couldn't make out. What the hell is their problem? She didn't have time for this. Blood was now rapidly pouring out of her wound and at this rate she wouldn't be conscious for long. Frantic, and with jittering hands, she started ripping at her pants. Need to stabilize the wound.
"Clarke... stop," Lincoln commanded, kneeling down next to her. His face looked concerned, but there was something off about it. That wasn't the concern of someone dying. It was almost like he was uncertain. She didn't have the time to figure it out.
"Either help me or don't touch me," Clarke snapped back, laying back and pressing the cloth down around the wound. Her stomach curled as a wave of searing pain radiated outwards from the wound. A little vomit caught in the back of her throat and forced her to take a deep breath, hissing in pain when she exhaled. The arrow was going to be a pain to take out, especially with a war going on around them. She opened her eyes and Octavia and Lincoln were just standing over her, staring. Her blood boiled a little bit. While she lay bleeding on the floor, her supposed friends did nothing but watch. "What the fuck is wrong with you two?!" she screamed. Regret filled her as the yelling aggravated her injury more.
"Clarke... there's no arrow..." Octavia said, gently moving to her side.
No arrow?! No wonder they had been giving her weird looks. The two of them had lost their minds. "I'm pretty damn sure there's an arrow," Clarke hissed, pointing to her stomach. "Cut the shit out and help me!"
"Clarke. There. Is. No. Arrow." Lincoln firmly hissed. "Close your eyes, I will show you."
He's fucking crazy, Clarke realized. The two of them were just going to sit there and let her die from blood loss. She relented, however, and closed her eyes. After this did not work, perhaps they would stop doubting and actually helping. After everything they had been through, they wanted to call her a liar. It just didn't make sense to her.
"Open your eyes now, Clarke." Lincoln's voice was different, calmer.
Clarke did as she was told, and slowly opened her eyes. This is all a big waste of time. Nothing was going to change. All she had to do was look down at her stomach, and the arrow would be there. Her eyes drifted downwards and... "No, that's not possible." She didn't believe her eyes. This had to be some trick. The pain, bleeding, and physical feeling of it... had all been there. Her eyes though told a different store. Where an arrow had been, Lincoln's hand lay instead. No blood, no pain, nothing but smooth skin. "What did you do?!" she screamed. Tears crept their way out of her eyes and she backed up into a wall.
Octavia moved next to her and slid down to a seated position. "You're okay now, Clarke," Octavia whispered, wrapping an arm around Clarke's shoulder. Octavia didn't say anything after that and just sat there, holding her. Clarke's whole body trembled, her breathing sharp and rapid. All Octavia did was sit, listen, and hum gently.
I'm right back to where I was in the forest, she realized. The hallucinations are back. The arrow wasn't real. Clarke's breathing slowed and the tremors subsided. Being spotted, the arrows, getting shot. None of it had been real. She lowered her head into her hands. "I thought I was done with this!" she cried out. Niylah had helped her get over them, or so she thought. It had been so long since a hallucination occurred. Now, it felt like she was back to square one.
"Clarke, it's fine..." Lincoln commented, kneeling in front of her. "I just need to know we can trust you from here on out. We're in a war zone. There is still time for you to slip away unnoticed," he said, looking over his shoulder to where they came from. "I cannot have you risking our lives if this is going to happen again."
Clarke took a couple of breaths and wiped off the tears from her cheeks. Her cheeks felt on fire and a deep, deep pit in her stomach formed. Before, when she had been on her own, the hallucinations only affected herself. She had never endangered anyone with them. Now, though, Lincoln was completely right. "I understand," she stated, regaining some form of composure. "I can't promise it won't happen again, but now I know that they aren't completely gone... I'll deal with it." She wanted... no, needed to finish this. Lexa's death wouldn't go unpunished, and she intended on being there to bring this all to an end.
"Clarke..." Octavia began.
"I'm fine," Clarke snapped back. She swept the few remaining tears off of her face and sprang up to her feet. "We need to move. I already wasted too much time. I'm with you guys."
Octavia shot an uncertain look towards Lincoln, but he just nodded. "Then let's figure out where we're going to go."
Lincoln started down the tunnel, hugging the wall as he went. "For now, we can join the fight at the wall. The walls are sturdy, and should hold." They came to the end of their hiding place that opened to the main courtyard in Polis. On the far end, she could see the main walls and the fighting happening there. Yells and screams filled the air, with a swift melody of arrows and spears being shot back and forth. Lincoln pointed towards a set of stairs not too far from them, on the closest wall. "There. Bows and arrows should be at the foot of those stairs. Grab what you can carry, hurry!"
The three of them sprinted towards the stairs. The smell of smoke intensified and Clarke could see sections of the walls were starting to be engulfed in flames. If they didn't hurry, she figured those sections wouldn't hold out much longer. Then nothing would be keeping out the main host of the army.
Lincoln was the first to reach the foot of the stairway. Just as he predicted, barrels holding bows and arrows were right next to it. He grabbed weapons and ammo for each of them and they all stormed up the steps, racing to get to the fight. They didn't have long before they found the main battlements. Waves of dead bodies littered the walkways and ground outside the walls. It was only then that Clarke saw the sheer amount of numbers they were up against. What seemed like thousands of soldiers in cover behind makeshift walls and trees. Jesus.
Some Polis guards saw them coming and initially shifted their aim towards them, but they quickly understood what was going on and waved the three of them over. Clarke ducked down behind the ramparts and readied her bow. "How many of you are left?" she asked one of the guards.
"Not enough!" He yelled back, firing off a few arrows into the host below. "We hold until we die."
"What about the other clans? Will they come?" Clarke knew Lexa did not take all of her warriors with her. She was sure each clan kept a reserve ready, in case anything happened. She didn't have time for an answer as an arrow pierced through the heart of the guard she was talking to. Somehow, she didn't think help was coming.
Looking around her, most of the walls were now burning. "This isn't going to hold much longer!" She popped out of her cover and fired a few arrows, down below, ducking when she saw the enemy prepare to return fire. One of her arrows had gotten lucky and struck true. One bucket of water scooped out of a sinking ship.
"We take out as many as we can before the walls fall!" Lincoln yelled, taking down a couple of enemies before ducking back down. Octavia followed her lovers lead. Arrows whizzed over their heads in what seemed like never ending salvos. This is never going to end.
Clarke took shots in the brief moments where her position wasn't being peppered with fire. She couldn't help but watch as ladders were carried up to the edge of the wall and hoisted up. "Lincoln, the ladders!" They couldn't afford to let anyone up the ladders. Once that started, they were basically done for. Clarke positioned herself next to the closest ladder and started firing downwards. A few Azgedan soldiers were already making their way up. The first screamed as her arrow pierced his chest, falling off and knocking down the others that were with him.
More charged for the ladder while other threw up hooks to try and pull sections of the wall down. Clarke reached behind her for some arrows and came up empty. Shit! Her eyes darted everywhere, looking for some arrows. The guard who died next to her not too long ago had a few and she scrambled over for them. She fit as many as she could hold in her hands and rushed back over to her spot, immediately knocking one to defend herself. She fired off round after round, desperately trying to stop the inevitable from happening. Soon, she found herself out again.
"I'm out!" she shouted towards Lincoln. Looking over towards them, she saw they were in the same situation.
"We are done here!" Lincoln shouted. More hooks landed above the walls, and shouts from below bellowed out. "Follow me, to the Heda's tower!"
Clarke looked over in the direction of the mega structure and figured that would be their best plan. Solid walls, tall, and narrow corridors. As good a place as any to make a final stand. She followed Lincoln as he ran off, and she wondered how much longer she had to live. Perhaps I'll be joining Lexa soon. At least they would meet again, though she would be breaking her promise to her mother.
Others must have overheard the plan and they too abandoned the wall and fled towards the tower. More chants and grunts came from the other side of the wall as the Azgedan army tore at the walls. Not much longer, she thought. It wasn't long before they reached the base of the tower. Lincoln and Octavia were ushering in the remaining fighters in Polis. She paused right outside the entrance, looking back towards where they just came from, and took in the sights of the city for possibly the last time.
"Clarke, we have to go!" Lincoln shouted, grabbing her by the coat and dragging her in. The last few soldiers trickled their way in after them, and Octavia barred the door behind them. That would hold them for a while.
Finally, the inevitable happened. The telltale sound of wood snapping sounded off in the distance, followed by a loud cheer. The walls of Polis had finally fallen. Inside the tower, dejected looks painted the faces of all inside. For them, this type of thing had been unthinkable. First, the Heda being killed, and now Polis falling. I could have stopped all of this.
"We're moving higher up, for a better look," Octavia stated to her. Clarke could tell the fatigue that was on her friend's face. She felt it as well. They were not soldiers, not really. Despite all the training she did, actual combat was much different. Her legs trembled, her lungs hungered for air, and her mind as running a thousand miles a minute. Things were only about to get worse too.
Clarke nodded and followed her up the many flights of stairs. Up and up they climbed, through these endless steps until they were high enough to be out of arrow range. Just mere days ago, she had been here, with Lexa. Now, it seemed to be a lifetime ago. Stepping out on a balcony, they truly saw the predicament they were in. Thousands of soldiers were running, surrounding the building. Looking down at them, they all appeared to be making some type of motion, and chanting. They're taunting us, she realized.
"How long is that door going to hold against them?" Octavia asked Lincoln, sitting down on the balcony to catch her breath. Clarke did the same, her legs thanking her as she slid down. This moment of reprieve was much needed.
"I don't know," Lincoln replied. "They seem to be in no hurry to attack it."
"What do you mean?" Clarke asked. She just saw that they were completely surrounded. Why wouldn't the Azgedan army attack them? They had the numbers, and everyone was trapped in this tower. Other armies could show up if they waited long enough, so why not attack now? "They have every reason to attack."
Almost as if to answer their questions, a giant, chilling horn sounded in the distance. Long, whaling blows from the instruments pierced far and all stopped moving. Clarke slowly peaked over the side of the balcony, and her heart dropped. "It's the second army..." Clarke muttered. The army they had encountered in the woods on their way here. They finally caught up. "This is really it..." she thought. The rest of the Azgedan army cheered and roared, thrusting their weapons in the sky. This is how the rest of Polis would fall, with them trapped like rats in a tower.
"Look, they're backing off," Lincoln pointed out. Clarke looked again, and he was right. The army was retreating, though not far. "They're waiting for dawn, and their Queen." Looking up, it had gotten much later than she had realized.
"They wouldn't attack in the dark, especially not in these close quarters," Clarke concurred. For the night, at least, they would be safe. However, they would have to watch their killers while they slept, refueled, and readied for another attack. I'm sorry, Lexa, she silently thought to herself. For now, all they could do is watch and wait. May we meet again.