Hi! First I want to apologize for not updating sooner.
Truth is my mother had a stroke at about 15-20 days ago and I became her, somewhat unwilling, 24/7 nurse. Don't get me wrong I love my mom but our relationship has always been a bit complicated and her frustration at not recovering fast enough is frying my, already quite delicate, nerves and exhausting all my patience.
To make up for the long wait, and for the fact that I seem incapable of writing chapters longer than 1100-1300 words, I decided to post 2 chapters together.
Hopefully this will help keeping your pitchforks and angry rants away for a little longer.
A little clarification to make things less confusing: Italic - Wanheda's voice, remember that, for now, it's all in Clarke's head. If it somehow manifests in the outside world I will let you know.
tripmight: Thanks for the encouragement, I hope it lives up to your expectation.
Jo Hamel: I've always found interesting the theories of our brain not been fully developed, I guess only time will tell if we can actually evolve to "be better". Honestly I've tried writing longer chapters but it has been quite difficult, to compensate for that I will try to update regularly.
David12leca: I will try to make it an enjoyable journey.
A loud obnoxious horn blared in the distance, interrupting her pleasant dreams. Clarke watched through her little window, half expecting to feel the sun shining on her face or for the moon to delight her with its ethereal glow, but all she saw were familiar metallic walls and sour looking guards.
It had been troublesome for Clarke to adjust again to the routine of keeping track of her day with her watch as the only aid. Morning and night were exchangeable terms in the Ark, their schedule was dictated by efficiency and practicality rather than natural phenomena's like sunrises or sunsets.
She never told another soul, not even Lexa, but the first time she woke up in the earth, with the warm rays of the sun caressing her skin she panicked, for a split second her mind believed she was burning alive. Until she arrived in the earth the sun had been a giant star that the Ark orbited around, the closest interaction they had with it where the solar flares, but even then they couldn't really feel it, they just factually knew that they had to be checked for radiation poisoning. Ironically it wasn't until she was further away from it that she got to actually experience its heat.
Sitting in her bed, hugging her knees, she let herself cry for the first time since she woke up in her new reality. She cried for Lexa and for the life they never got to live together, she cried for herself and the atrocities she had been forced to commit but mainly she cried for everything she had been deprived of since she left the earth.
She wept for the simple things, the unimportant, trivial or meaningless events that every grounder took for granted yet for her had been the most marvelous, wonderful and awe-inspiring experiences of her short life.
She yearned for the moonlight, for the forests with so many shades of green that her paintings could never bring justice to. She wanted to rejoice again with the melody of birds singing with the sunrise. She ached with the need to feel the rain falling down on her face and the wind blowing her hair. She craved the pure air, unlike the fabricated one of the Ark, to fill her lungs once again.
"Mourn your loss, let it all out little one, otherwise grief will consume you"
Memories started to dance in her head. No matter how hard she tried it seemed that every decision she made lead to pointless deaths or someone injured; 300 hundred warriors burned alive by her orders, all the inhabitants of the mountain boiled by radiation, Murphy hanged by a crime he didn't commit, Lincoln –the purest and most gentle soul she had ever met- tortured for defending himself. Names kept popping up in her mind like an endless list of pain and suffering; Charlotte, Finn, the villagers Finn massacred while looking for her, Anya killed by the Arkers, Pike slaughtering grounders because she had been too much of a coward to face her reality and had run away… and Lexa, the biggest failure of them all, so much wasted time, so many regrets.
"Embrace all the pain, self-hate, guilt and shame you once felt and let them be your strength. Even the worst of situations taught you a lesson, they shaped the person you are now and the one you will become"
After what felt like hours the sobs finally ceased, she felt lighter and more in peace with herself than she had felt in months, the blonde couldn't, wouldn't, forget everything that happened but she could finally forgive herself for it. With a renewed sense of purpose and hope igniting a flame in her heart she decided to take the first steps in forging a better future.
"Sleep now little one, you will need all the strength you can muster up"
At first, it had been quite discombobulating and even a bit alarming to share her body, her soul, with someone else but the presence that once felt unnerving was now soothing and comforting, like a blanket on a chilly day or the hug of an old friend you hadn't seen in a long time.
After eating her dinner, a tasteless porridge and a piece of old bread, the blonde sat on the floor and began the meditation and breathing exercises that Wanheda taught her.
"For us to succeed it's imperative you train your mind as well as your body"
When she finished her meditation Clarke began the physical aspect of her training, it was tedious and at times gruesome task but she quickly learned to push away her discomfort and soldier on.
In the few months, she had been on earth her muscles had grown exponentially fast; abundant food and constant physical activity had been the catalyst for that development. This time around she vow to herself that she wouldn't arrive unprepared, instead, she planned to hone her physique to the standards of an elite grounder warrior. To achieve her goal she needed to condition her body not only to withstand pain and fatigue but to survive with meagre rations of food, resources were thin in the ark and the council wouldn't waste more than necessary on expendable prisoners.
Despite the small space available, she followed Wanheda's instructions, at best as she could. The first few days her whole body felt on fire and her muscles had been so sore from the strain she put on them that she barely had the strength to crawl to her bed, where she promptly passed out until the alarm announced the begging of a new day. She didn't let this discourage her, instead, she used it as motivation to improve and a way to keep a benchmark of sorts to asses her progress.
After getting used to the vigorous exercise the blonde easily stablished her new routine; breakfast, meditation, lunch, physical exercise and then dinner, promptly followed by dreamless sleep. She was exceedingly grateful to be so exhausted that she didn't have time to dwell on anything but following the steps she had set for herself.
If she had learned something in the previous time-line was that been in solitary confinement, with nothing to do but look at the ceiling, was that your mind became your biggest enemy. Devoided of meaningful human interaction, aimlessly wandering through your memories, over analyzing everything, replaying every bad decision you ever made in a constant loop. It was no wonder that most of the prisoners in solitary try to commit suicide or became so mentally unstable that they had no hope of ever integrating in the Ark society again.
Before, in what she had begun to call the other time, she had focused on art to occupy her time and scape her cruel and maddening reality. Her mother had sent her drawing materials and she had used them to paint every last inch of her cell; her walls and floors, even the metal bed, had been covered with drawings of the earth, what she had known about it at least, flowers, animals and every other thing she had seen in her books.
This time around, while her mother once again sent her art supplies, she didn't bother to use them. Not only was she too exhausted to even try but she also had to restrain herself from drawing things she had actually seen on Earth and what was even harder she had to keep under control the urge of drawing Lexa, her heart ache to see her again and her fingers itched to try and recreate her beauty. In the end, she concluded that the titanic effort needed to curve her desires did not outweigh the potential benefit. The only thing that made her miserable about her decision was knowing that this time around her mother would have nothing left to remember her by.
Abby had confided in her that she had her old prison cell closed down, to preserve the last memories of her and that she would sit in there every time she was overwhelmed by her responsibilities, or whenever she felt hopeless about the Ark situation or worried about the wellbeing of the 100. Her mother confessed that being surrounded by her drawings brought her piece of mind and a sense of calm that allowed her to soldier on with her duties as a council-woman.