The faint glimmers of daylight had evolved into a soft glow splitting the sky on the horizon, a deceptively beautiful day that did not comply with the sharp tension that rippled through the world below.
Clarke was composed and calm as she rose from the underground cell, at first shielding her eyes from the comparative brightness as the guards directed her towards the source of their unease. It soon became apparent why they had been so insistent on her presence.
A cloaked figure was parading himself through the courtyard, strutting back and forth as if he owned the very ground beneath his feet. Scars ripped a path across his face, almost unnoticeable when the observing eye was drawn to the bloody streaks of crimson red that had been smeared over his cheeks and around glinting eyes.
He was a tall man with a slim yet athletic build, yielding a blade in either hand with obvious skill. Harsh words ripped from his lips, echoing throughout the courtyard with a haunting reverberation. Words of treason and threats of violence that promised deadly action.
It was not his words that stopped Clarke in her tracks, eyes widening in disbelief before she was able to control her reaction, filled with shock at the nightmare that she had stumbled upon.
Three men and two woman knelt in a row in front of the crazed stranger. The first man was barely able to remain upright as blood trickled from a wound on his head, face drawn and pale as he was unable to look away from the second man, who was on his hands and knees, heaving deep breaths as he gripped his stomach tightly in desperation to prevent the bleeding that was soaking through the dark, worn material of his shirt.
The other three victims appeared to be in better health, remaining still and silent as they prayed to avert the wroth of the delinquent who, for the time being, was too concerned with spewing his speech to acknowledge their presence. Two guards already lay dead near the hostages, sacrificing their lives in an attempt to stop the murderous assassin.
It was all Clarke could do to continue her path towards the hellish scene, a numbness grasping at her mind whilst she tried to focus her attention on what the man was preaching.
'A reckoning is coming and none of you will survive the devastation!'
The rest she hadn't caught, presuming it to be the same crazed ravings.
Clarke shook herself out of her stupor, a deadly intent settling over her as she vowed to put an end to this madness. It had gone far enough. Octavia gasped lightly behind her as she witnessed the scene, just as shocked by the spectacle that lay before them.
'Enough!' Clare commanded in a strong voice, interrupting the man mid sentence as he called for the false leaders to reveal themselves. She strode past the uncertain guards who had gathered at the edge of the courtyard, awaiting her orders on whether they should attack. The crazed man had made it clear that the hostages would die long before any warrior could approach to take his life.
'Ah, Wanheda!' the man cried, gesturing with an arm at his creation. 'I was hoping the Commander might make an appearance but I guess you will do.'
Clarke walked purposefully towards the central scene, no hesitation in her step until the lithe man slid behind the hostages with deadly intent, his blades poised and ready to strike as he tutted disappointedly.
'You should know better. It's just like I told your minions, if you move any closer they all die. So much as reach for your weapon and there will be consequences.'
His relaxed tone had suddenly transformed into a deadly promise, forcing Clarke to a halt as she reluctantly obeyed his direction. She was now within ten metres of the carnage if she was required to act.
'Put your weapons down and surrender.'
She had to give him a warning, even if there was the slimmest possibility that this could end without further blood shed then she had to try, blood must not have blood as she so often preached.
The cloaked stranger ignored her plea as he continued with his spectacle.
'Your leaders preach peace and prosperity but they poison this city with their injustices! This blood is on their hands as is the blood of the wars to come! The city will be coated in blood, flames and misery, all because you let the likes of Wanheda bring destruction to your lives!'
Clarke wasn't the only one getting tired of the pointless preaching and she shook her head minutely as she saw Octavia attempting to circle the courtyard whilst the lunatics attention was diverted. The effort would only end in unnecessary blood shed. For now his gaze was fastened to Clarke, his blades resting lightly on the back of two hostages, not a loss that she wanted to endure.
If he would only falter for a second, turn his gaze to the shifting warriors who glared darkly at the madman, then she could reach for her gun and take him down before he could so much as blink in surprise.
The droning voice continued on as Clarke held her ground, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, her head clear and body prepared.
'Death follows you Wanheda and these deaths are no different. They die in the Commander's name, in your name, in this ruin of a city. May they haunt your days and remind you of your failures.'
Any fool could see where this was going and Clarke was already reaching for her gun before he had even finished his sentence, her hand closing around its comforting weight as the final syllables fell from his lips, an expression of pure contempt and loathing contorting his face as he threw his weight forwards against the swords in his grip, a final act of defiance that would cost his life.
Clarke levelled her gun with instinctive precision, aware that she could not afford to miss her target. She squeezed the trigger with such certainty, the shattering boom of the gun ripping through the courtyard as she unloaded her ammunition into the violent traitor, hours of training honing her skills to unleash hell on the assailant.
His face contorted in agony as the bullets pierced flesh and bone, the sheer force pushing him away from the remaining hostages even as he miraculously remained upright, swaying unsteadily as his body communicated the damage to his brain.
A delirious grin curved his lips even as blood trickled from the the corner of his mouth, a dead man walking as the seconds drew by like minutes. The swords had long since dropped to the ground, their curved edges gleaming with blood as they lay abandoned at his feet.
The blood was roaring through Clarke's head, pounding a ferocious beat against her skull as the echoing shots seemed to ring through her very core. For a ludicrous moment she expected the man to resume his preaching, continue his carnage as if nothing had happened, her mind clouded with the images of crimson red streaking onto the cobblestones.
It took another second for the blonde woman to realise that the pounding in her head was not the pure force of her beating heart, rather the rhythmic patter of hoof beats that now clattered to a stop in the courtyard, spurred to greater speeds by the violent gunfire that had been heard throughout the city.
The traitor could fight against his body no longer, his determination failing as his broken body quivered in defeat and he collapsed to his knees, white eyes rolling back into sockets before he lurched to the side, falling still as his blood seeped to mix with that of those he had only moments ago inflicted such suffering against.
Clarke had remained frozen in place, gun raised in preparation for any counter attack, her breath catching when the man dropped like a stone to reveal the party of warriors that had returned in time to witness the bloodshed, at the head of which was the Commander, seated atop her brilliant white mare as she observed the carnage that had taken place within the heart of her city.
Dark green eyes held concern and anger for what they saw, rising from the mayhem to meet the wide blue eyes that conveyed such emotion over the nightmare that lay between them. The world was silent as those gathered spared a second to process the overwhelming shock that gripped their hearts at such a brutal display.
Her surprise at witnessing the Commander's presence was overshadowed by the subsequent confusion at witnessing the man who rode at her side, white war paint and familiar scars identifying King Roan of Azgeda, perched atop his own chestnut stallion that shifted nervously from the commotion.
There was no time to question his presence in the city as Clarke drew a sharp breath and hurriedly returned the gun to its holster as she rushed forwards to the bloody scene. She knelt besides one of the victims without thought, not caring for the crimson stains that would seep into her clothes as she furtively attempted to identify a pulse or sign of life in the unmoving warrior. Nothing.
She refused to be deterred and systematically moved between the three mortally wounded victims, doing her best to cling onto some appearance of composure as she desperately hoped for even the faintest flicker of hope that they still clung to life.
The world had erupted into chaos around her, guards shouting directions and attempting to clear the courtyard as horrified onlookers gathered, drawn by the loud cries and erupting gunfire before they were quickly ushered away. Clarke faintly recognised Octavia's voice calling out instructions, the blur of the world around her fading until it was just her and the bodies on the ground. There was nothing more that she could do.
Two hostages had emerged from the conflict with non-fatal injuries and had wasted no time in stumbling away from the scene where they were intercepted by a medic to assess their injuries. At least some had managed to escape with their lives, Clarke thought to herself in a daze, rising to her feet as she recognised the absence of life before her, unable to crush the haunting thought that perhaps they would have survived had she acted differently.
A light touch on her shoulder caused her to jump violently, instantly scolding herself for such a reaction as she tried to make sense of the world around her. She was no stranger to death, but this had hit differently.
'Clarke?'
She turned expectantly, hoping to fall into the gaze of her lover, but instead found Octavia observing her with concern, lowering her hand when the blonde woman shied away from the touch.
'Are you okay?'
The warrior wore an almost undecipherable expression, but even she could not hide the wide eyed response to the woman's appearance as she witnessed the state of her clothes.
'Fine,' Clarke responded forcefully, her scope of vision widening as she left the depths of her own mind to observe the world around her. Octavia was not the only one to watch her with wide eyes, although they were cautiously subtle about their observation.
A quick glance down confirmed the ghastly sight that she had pictured, blood of the deceased soaking her sleeves and trousers from where she had knelt determinedly, an image that many would not soon forget.
Ignoring the gazes drawn to her stark appearance, Clarke looked out over the courtyard once more to glimpse the Commander being swarmed by a crowd of warriors and aides, all seeking orders and direction in the aftermath of the bloody event. Lexa was directing her subjects with absolute authority, firing orders with the ease of an experienced leader even as her eyes sought out the one person that she truly wanted to be speaking to.
Clarke turned away from the chaotic scene and allowed herself to blend into the rush of warriors that were surging around the courtyard, not wanting to face the torrent of questions and accusations that would no doubt be thrown around in the wake of this disaster.
In that moment she was focused solely on the burning rage that swept away any guilt or sorrow that remained, fuelled incessantly by the unforgettable images of death and carnage that were now seared into her mind.
This treachery had gone on long enough. These brutal traitors would stop at nothing until the alliance was nothing but ash on the ground at their feet. No amount of reasoning could infiltrate or change their perverse views, and such acts of violence could not be overlooked.
With the blood of the deceased still fresh on her clothes, Clarke stalked towards the cells with a deadly gleam in her eye, intent on claiming answers from the one man who could provide them.
A shorter chapter this time but I will upload the next one in a few days!
Let me know what you thought!