32

Beside the Fire

OCTAVIA

When we left Ton DC this morning clumps of daffodils splotched the forest floor like little patches of sunshine. The tree under which I parked Helios outside the gates of Arkadia was in full bloom, littering the ground with fallen petals an obnoxious shade of pink. But here, on the edges of Azgeda, it seems winter still reigns.

"Ai laik Octavia kom Trikru and I seek the fire's warmth in winter's chill." I call out to the thick men with thick coats and thick blades and thick streaks of white across their faces. "I come under orders of Commander Indra kom Trikru to deliver the Skaikru serum as agreed upon in the conditions of Azgeda's reinstatement in the Alliance of the Clans."

My tone is formal, as chilly as the crisp wind swirling bits of snow around us. I do not want to be here. If I had been Indra, I would have refused Azgeda's request for re-admittance, and with it, their right to the Nightserum. The way I see it, the world would be better off if we just left Azgeda out in the cold and let nature take care of them for us.

But Indra is wise and strong and, despite her rough exterior, more compassionate than she would ever dare to admit. If it were up to me, I would have at least made Azgeda wait until every other clan received their doses of the serum. But because Azgeda has the greatest levels of exposure and are the first already showing signs of radiation poisoning, Raven, Clarke, Abby, and Indra all agreed that, whether we like it or not, Azgeda NEEDS the serum first. And, as hard headed as I am, damn if I can stand against that kind of united front of stubborn women.

So here I am now, being led into the heart of Azgeda by silent, surly men I neither like nor trust. And I'm fighting back the anger because, if not exactly a friendly mission, this is supposed to at least be a peaceful one. And even though my eyes can still only see them as enemies, the men before me are now officially allies, at least on paper. And I am duty-bound to treat them as such.

And I still can't understand why Indra chose to delegate ME as Trikru's top ambassador, especially after she witnessed the last diplomatic encounter I had with an Azgeda representative. But Indra was persistent in her insistence and, of all the people on this godforsaken earth, there is no one whom I respect more than Indra. Indra... The woman who acknowledged and nurtured the warrior inside of me. Indra... The woman who helped Lexa build the Coalition and now has put the pieces of it back together even stronger than before. And technically, as her second, and now as her SUBJECT, I was duty-bound to accept the appointment. But, bound or not, reluctant and pissy as I am, I never would have refused her. Because, now that Lincoln is gone, there is not a single person on the planet I want to please more than Indra.

That is, except for maybe Eevie. I look over at the little girl riding tall on Lil' Chief beside me and the light in her eyes helps me breathe as much as the coarse locks of Helios's mane twisting between my fingers. She still hasn't said a single word to me, but she no longer looks like she's about to run off into the forest every time I try to speak to her. And when I asked her if she knew what a warrior's second was, she had nodded. And when I asked her if she would like to be MY second, she had nodded again. And at the glint of excitement in her hazel eyes I had felt a smile cross my face. Because the anger and the emptiness and the loneliness are still inside of me and I carry them with me everywhere I go. But their weight seems a whole lot lighter when Eevie is close. When I can breathe.

We pass through hills of rock and snow and as we crest one slope I catch my first glimpse of a flourishing village in the valley below and I am surprised by its beauty. As we descend the hill we follow a winding trail meandering through pine forest much like Trikru's, only here every tree is blanketed in a thick covering of snow. Beneath the trees log cabins sit quietly in the mounds of white, smoke drifting lazily from brick chimneys into the white sky above.

The men lead us to what looks like a massive old lodge still standing from the days before ALIE that I assume must now be used as Azgeda's capitol building. The lodge's wings frame the edges of a small frozen lake lined on its other banks by shops and businesses, more cabins, and a schoolhouse. This is the heart of their village and it is as alive as Trikru's once was, and will be again.

People come and go from the buildings, tromping through packed snow and ice in boots and puffy jackets or sleek, fur-lined coats. Others skate across the glittering surface of the frozen lake, laughing and chasing each other across the ice. I watch as a boy slips, falls, and immediately starts bawling while his sister stands over him, laughing and laughing. Her mother silences the laughter with a swat across the girl's behind even as the father silences the cries by lifting the little boy off of his own behind and into his warm arms.

Beside the family a group of teenagers hoot and holler, hitting a big round stone back and forth across the ice with long sticks carved into the shape of an L. One of the boys hits the stone into a metal trashcan laying on its side and raises his arms overhead, cheering and smirking shamelessly. He shimmies his shoulders and executes a few ridiculous hip thrusts accompanied by fist pumps. But his victory dance is cut short when a girl only a fraction of his size skates up behind him and gives him a playful, but hard, shove. The shove is perfectly timed with his hip thrusts and his feet go flying into the air, his fist pumps turn into flailing, and he falls spectacularly on his ass.

Laughter drifts through the chilly air and I am almost tempted to join in as I look around in wonder at the warmth and beauty of this frozen village. And I'm not sure what I expected to find within the borders of Azgeda, but it definitely was not this. Because there are people all around us, and though I know that nearly all of Azgeda's citizens are trained in warrior combat from their youth, with the exception of the men escorting us, not a single person here has white smeared across their face or steel clutched in their hand.

In place of warpaint, they wear smiles and rosy cheeks reddened by the cold. Instead of armor, they wear fluffy jackets and knitted mittens and caps and scarves that shine in a rainbow of colors standing out boldly against the white of the snow. And instead of blades in their hands, they grip shopping bags or sacks of groceries or the smaller hands of toddlers stumbling their way across the slick icy ground.

"Queen Atawa will see you now, Ambassador." One of our escorts tells me as he dismounts from his shaggy brown horse. I help Eevie off of her colt and her tiny hand lingers in mine as the men of Azgeda begin assisting my own small crew in unloading the jugs of the Nightserum from our horses' backs. I relinquish my reins to one of the Ice Nation warriors and allow him to guide Helios and Lil' Chief to a small stable beside the lodge. And I hope that at least one of "the Shits" manages to get a good bite in before we leave.

I catch Eevie eyeing a small group of girls playing in the snowy yard fronting the gigantic lodge as we approach its entrance. A snowball splatters into sloppy wet chunks against the back of one girl's yellow, polka-dotted beanie. The girl turns, massaging the back of her head with one hand, and rearing back a fistful of snow in the other, preparing to fire back at her laughing attacker. But the girl easily dodges the retaliating snowball and simply falls on her back and starts making snow angels, still giggling.

The girl in the polka-dotted beanie spots us watching her. Her eyes lock on Eevie's and she tromps through the snow right up to us wearing a bright, warm smile. She has dark hair like Eevie's and soft, chocolate brown eyes like Lincoln's, and despite the cold around us, her smile makes me think of sunshine.

"Hi!" She says. "I'm Glacey! What's your name?"

I give Eevie a chance to answer. One moment. Two. But she stays silent as ever.

"This is Eevie." I answer for her. "Eevie kom..." I start out of habit but suddenly stop myself. Because this little girl did not introduce herself as 'Glacey kom Azgeda.' And the way she's looking at Eevie, I don't think she cares one bit where Eevie's from. Because she has eyes like Lincoln's. And she doesn't see the streaks of black on Eevie's face or notice that Eevie doesn't have colorful mittens or a scarf or a polka-dot beanie. Because she has eyes like Lincoln's, and all she sees is another little girl, someone who might want to be her friend.

And if this girl can just be 'Glacey,' maybe right now Eevie can just be 'Eevie.'

"Wanna play with us, Eevie?" Glacey asks, eagerly. "We're having a snowball fight and those cheaters keep teaming up on me and I need a friend."

Eevie looks up at me tentatively, and though she doesn't say a single word, I've gotten used to reading her eyes and the different ways she chews her lips. And I know she longs to join Glacey. I suddenly notice that Eevie's hand still clings to mine. And I realize, that since Lincoln's, Eevie's hand is the only one that has felt right against my skin.

"Go ahead." I say, releasing her fingers. "A snowball fight sounds like a whole lot more fun than what I have to go do. You'd be bored real fast if you stuck with me."

Eevie cautiously takes the girl's outstretched hand and lets her lead her towards the others, practically skipping as she drags Eevie along behind her. The new friends run and bend to pack snow in their tiny hands, giggling as they launch the balls at one another, missing far more often than they find their targets. Eevie and Glacey are still holding hands as I step onto the front porch of the lodge, and through the falling snow, if I squint hard enough, I cannot tell which laughing girl is Trikru and which is Azgeda.

"You know, Octavia kom Trikru..." I jump at the woman's voice. She is sitting on a chair on the porch just a few feet from me, draped in a thick fur blanket, watching the children play and the snow fall. She has curly white hair and wrinkles around the eyes hiding behind a thick pair of glasses. She is tiny, but she sits proud, erect, almost regally in her chair.

"All children are born with perfect eyes." The woman tells me. "And I'm not talking about whether or not they need specs." She adds with a chuckle, pointing to the thick rims crossing the bridge of her nose. "What I mean is that they see the world clearly. They still look at it with wonder. They see the magic in the unique crystals of every snowflake, the wild beauty in a raging blizzard. And they still see the magic and the beauty in one another."

"I'm not sure at what age we teach our children to see the differences in one another." She sighs. "Or at what age we teach them to fear what is different and to hate what they fear and to destroy what they hate. Because no little girl is born with hate in her heart. No... Hatred is something we learn along the way."

I'm not sure how to respond to this woman's random commentary on human nature. And I'm not sure if I entirely agree with her assessment. I don't know if hatred is something that we are taught or if maybe it is something that is programmed into us from birth and just doesn't develop until later on in life, like wisdom teeth or armpit hair.

And I think of Glacey's eyes and Healer Orna's eyes... Lincoln's eyes. And I know that children, and the special few of us adults, the best of us, look out at the world and see wonder and magic and beauty. But I'm not sure this woman has it right about them seeing the world more clearly. Because the world is NOT just full of wonder and magic and beauty. It is full of heartache and hatred, injustice and brutality, suffering and pain. And I think that children don't see clearly at all, because they have not yet had their eyes opened to the ugliness in the world.

"They don't see clearly." I blurt out. Because my mind was thinking it and, for some stupid reason, my tongue decided to make that known. "They're blind. They haven't seen how ugly the world can be... How ugly people can be. They're blind." I repeat.

"Sometimes it is the blind who see most clearly, Octavia kom Trikru." The woman replies, cryptically. "Sometimes it is only the deaf who know how to listen. But..." She pauses, gathering the folds of her blanket into her arms and rising to her feet. "Where are my manners? Please... Come in. Let us find warmth from winter's chill together."

I follow her into the massive front room of the lodge and take a tentative seat in a gleaming, elegantly carved wooden chair beside a large, roaring fire. Its warmth sinks through my clothes and seeps into my skin like liquid sunshine. The woman offers me a steaming mug as she sinks into a seat across from me, looking absolutely relaxed.

"I take it you are Queen Atawa kom Azgeda?" I ask, just to confirm that I'm not wasting my time just visiting with some random old woman who speaks in riddles.

"Guilty as charged." She chuckles. "Though I'm still getting used to the whole 'queen' part of it. For seventy-one years I was simply Atawa kom Azgeda. Never expected to receive a new name at this age."

She pauses to take a sip from her own steaming mug and, not sure what else to do or say, I copy her. The amber liquid tastes all at once like apples and cinnamon, cloves and ginger, and maple syrup sweeter than honey. And, judging by the tingly warmth that floods my tummy, I'm guessing this elixir has more than just a touch of whiskey in it. It's a good thing it's scalding hot. Because, even as I feel the tip of my burnt tongue shrivel in on itself, I'm still tempted to chug the whole mug down.

"I'm very glad you have come, Octavia kom Trikru." Atawa continues, growing serious. "I know a lot of people would rather Azgeda did not receive the serum you carry with you. And I daresay you might just be one of those people. A lot of people hate Azgeda... And for good reason."

"You see," she sighs, sadly. "The cold has a way of seeping into one's heart and if it is allowed to linger, the heart itself grows cold... Becomes ice... Becomes stone. For generations, leaders like Queen Nia and her son, Arlen, taught our people that a frozen, stone heart is a strong heart... One that cannot be broken or overpowered. And because of those teachings... Azgeda has brought a lot of ugliness into this world. And undoubtedly, we deserve to be punished for the damage we have wrought, for the beauty we have destroyed, the lives we have taken and the blood we have spilled."

"But there is also so much here that is worth saving." She adds. "Because... You see... The truth is that the world has both beauty and ugliness in it. They go hand in hand, like light and darkness... And it takes knowing one to understand the other."

She pauses thoughtfully. I wonder if she is giving me a chance to comment. But again I have nothing to say.

"So it goes with so many of the best things in life..." She continues. "For instance, you can't know the freedom that comes with forgiveness until you first understand the full weight of the burden of carrying the anger inside."

At those words I stiffen in my chair, but Atawa doesn't seem to notice. She just continues on with another commentary on human nature. All I came here to do was fulfill my promise to Indra... to drop off the damn Nightserum and get the hell out of here. I didn't come here to listen to an old woman's rambling. But regardless, I bite my tongue, and I find the words seeping into my ears.

"You can't experience the joy of healing until you've been properly broken. You don't understand the value of a friend until you've known the pangs of loneliness. You can't experience the rush of finding courage and strength within yourself if you've never been paralyzed by fear. You don't know what it's like to finally find home unless you've known what it feels like to wander around lost. You can't be filled until you've known emptiness... And you can only find the beauty of hope if you've known the ugliness of despair."

"Beauty and ugliness... They go hand in hand." She repeats. "The world is full of both. And people... Just like the world... Have both the beauty and the ugliness within them. And really... How you see the world... How you see everyone around you... How you see yourself... It all comes down to how good your eyesight is and what you choose to see."

Atawa finally finishes and I don't know how to respond. She stares at me from behind her thick, thick glasses and I wonder how the hell it is that she has managed to see right into me. How the fuck does she know that I have been struggling, struggling, struggling with all of this since the moment Lincoln died? No... I think to myself... The truth is I have been struggling a lot longer than that.

I have always struggled to see the good in the world. I never had eyes like Glacey's. I never saw the magic and the wonder and the beauty. From the moment they first shoved me into the hole in the floor, all I could see was the ugliness, the darkness. And I only ever saw the beauty when I had Lincoln's eyes to help me.

And without Lincoln beside me all I can see again is the ugliness... The ugliness in the world... The ugliness in me.

And how the hell does this woman know that? How does she know I'm broken inside? It's one thing for Indra and Clarke to know. But Luna? And Orna? And Roddeck? And now, the fucking queen of fucking Azgeda? Do I have a goddamn sign on my back that says, 'Help... I'm broken and I don't know how to fix myself?' I wonder if this woman is going to lay her wrinkled little hand on my shoulder and I cringe at the thought. But she just grips her mug and stares thoughtfully into the merry flames of the fire.

"Azgeda has caused a lot of ugliness to enter this world." She continues and now I'm starting to think maybe I'm being paranoid. Maybe she isn't talking about me at all. Maybe she is still just talking about her people. "But we still have a lot of beauty to offer it. We are like Winter, itself... known for our relentless brutality, our unyielding strength, our cold indifference... But even Winter is beautiful if you have the right eyes to see it." She pauses, glancing out the window at the girls still playing in the snow.

"The clans have only seen Winter's harsh destruction. But I wish to change that. We are not a nation of savages. We have hearts just like the rest of you. And though we have been taught by past leaders that a strong heart is a cold heart... a frozen, stone heart... I've survived enough winters to have seen that ice and stone both shatter. And the strongest heart is a soft one... A heart that yields and bends and grows and battle's winter's chill not by mimicking it and becoming it, but rather by seeking allies against it... Seeking the company of other soft hearts, that they may keep warm together."

"Please tell Commander Indra kom Trikru that I seek to teach Azgeda's children to see the beauty and seek the warmth in others and in themselves. And I hope the Coalition can forget Azgeda's cold ugliness and give us a chance to share our warmth and beauty."

I stare at the eyes behind the glasses, the sincerity and warmth in them, and the anger smolders within me. Because I wanted to hate Azgeda. I wanted its people, every single one of them, to be punished. I wanted to see the ugliness.

And all I see right now is the beauty.

"Commander Indra has been known to give second chances." Is all I say.

The old woman smiles and extends a petite hand and I grasp it in my own. "You are always welcome in Azgeda, Octavia kom Trikru. There will always be an open spot for you beside the fire. May your fire burn warm through the long winter... Until we reach the Endless Spring."

"Until we reach the Endless Spring."

I step back into the frigid cold and linger on the porch to allow Eevie one more minute of fun before trudging across the yard to collect her. She is breathless when she and Glacey run up to me. Both of the girls have cheeks glowing red from the exertion of play and the nip of the cold air, and they both wear identical smiles. I have never seen Eevie grin, and just like Glacey's, it makes me think of sunshine.

"Bye, Eevie!" Glacey says. "Thanks for playing with me."

I wait for it... I wait for it... I wait for it...

But Eevie does not reply. She gives Glacey one last smile and a friendly wave, and it seems the girl is perfectly happy to accept the silent goodbye. I take Eevie's cold little fingers in my own and lead her towards the men who have gone to bring "the Shits" back out to us.

"Hod up!" I pause in surprise at Atawa's voice drifting to us through the cold air like snowflakes. I turn and am even more confused to find the tiny old woman looking down at Eevie rather than up at me.

"What's your name, little warrior?" She asks with a warm smile.

I wait for it... I wait for it... I wait for it...

"Eevie." I answer for her.

"Eevie." Atawa repeats softly, kneeling in the snow before the little girl. "My granddaughter, Glacey, insists you come back and visit us again, Eevie. And I'm afraid she is a stubborn little girl who doesn't ever take 'no' for an answer. So you had better do as she says." She chuckles.

She pulls a fluffy bright green bundle of clothes from behind her back. She wraps a forest green scarf with white stripes around Eevie's little neck, then pulls a matching beanie over her wild braids, tucking its soft edges over the tips of Eevie's ears. "I figure you had better have some proper clothes to keep you warm next time you come. After all, snowball fights are dangerous without the right armor." She chuckles again, handing green and white mittens to Eevie.

Eevie doesn't say anything, but her smile is like the sunshine again as she pulls the mittens on over her rosy fingertips. Queen Atawa gives Eevie a soft pat on the top of her beanie as she rises back to her feet. "Until we reach the Endless Spring." She calls to me one last time.

"Until we reach the Endless Spring." I answer and the small smile on my face is the best I can do to say 'thank you.'

And it is not until we cross from snow back onto soil and rock that I realize Eevie's hat and scarf and mittens are the color of Trikru's summer and the color of Azgeda's winter. And the combination of the two is beautiful.