Hostile Peace

1 - Fire in all its Glory

I always wanted to be a hero as a kid. I know it sounds cliché but I always wanted to be like the traditional heroes. I always wanted to be like superman and batman. Though I can't say I know much about them, I only know what could be scavenged from the wreckage of old libraries and old-world buildings. I always wanted to wear a mask to hide my true identity. Wear armour to protect me as I fight crime. I always wanted to save my very own damsel in distress, but I guess those old-world articles forgot to mention one crucial part. All heroes become villains in the end. The mask I would wear to protect my identity would cause those around me so much pain and sorrow. The very armour I don to ensure my safety would cause me more harm than the very weapon it's made to protect me from.

I was born of the ground. Born of the brown soil and green leaves. Born of the sun and the moon. But I was not born of the sky. I will never know of the sky and that is why I find myself on top of the tower I call home. I come up here often, simply to let myself get lost in one star in particular. It's not always there, every three sunsets or so, it can be seen. It shines quite brighter than the rest and I like to imagine that it's not a star but in fact a planet. A planet with a bustling population, one where they would happily take me amongst their civilisations. I imagine a population not constantly at war, but most of all I imagine a population where I'm not in charge. Lying down on top of my home with eyes cast above me to the place I'll never go. The place where I'm not in charge, where I can finally be me, Alexandra. Not Lexa, Commander of the 12 clans and heir to Bekka Pramheda. Just Alexandra, who lost everything and everyone, the woman who never got to be a girl. Just thinking about that brings tears to my eyes, tears that I will never let fall. For that is weakness. Love is Weakness, emotion is weakness.

Shake out of it I tell myself. There is no place in this world for a Commander to get lost amongst her thoughts. I push myself from the floor and look around the open area. It's a large roof I must admit, roughly the size of four or so houses. Large enough that it can be hard to see the opposite side from my current position in the dying light of the sun. It's a circular area with short stone walls that crumble in certain locations. Best to keep away from the edges, a fall from this tower would be a long way down and an almost certain death.

The bonfire is easily my favourite feature of the city. It's quite large and located in the centre of the tower's roof. The flames dance tall, a dark red and yellow. No matter how large the fire gets it never once dares to leave its coals. It's quite symbolic really. I like to imagine that it shows my people that as long as they do not betray me I will continue to make sure they are looked after, that they are fed and nurtured. But most of all that they are protected. It makes the tower seem like a candle. Perhaps that's why I like it so much. It's visible for miles and is always lit. Only when the city falls the fire is put out. If a Commander dies a dye is added to create red smoke. It is used as a beacon to show that the commander still rules, still protects their people.

I find it quite curious how something that we cannot live without, can turn on you in a matter of minutes and cause so much destruction and pain. It can simply unravel everything one has built. Fire killed my parents. I was only two and had just gone out for my very first day of warrior training. It was merely a theory lesson just so I could learn what it meant to be a warrior for Trikru. I didn't even pick up a weapon. When I returned, my home was being consumed by a fiery ball of rage and passion. Swallowing all remains of my home, taking with it the memories I had made in the short time I spent there. I will never forget the sounds of my parents as they died that night and the violent colours of the fire. Even to this day as I close my eyes, they haunt me, taunting me. Anya my mentor at the time said I ran for the entrance to my home, but the doorway collapsed as I neared it. As the house exploded into a pile of stone and splinters, I was hit with a piece of debris. It sliced my forearm, blood gushing from the wound to meet the wood. As the blood travelled down my arm and mixed in with the soil at my feet, I dropped to my knees clutching my arm and kneeling in my blood. Only Anya noticed the absence of hue and complete absorption of light in the shade of my blood. She picked me up that night and bundled up my broken form in her arms as she mounted a horse and rode to the capital.

That was the last time I would ever be Alexandra. That night broke me and rebuilt me altogether.

Even though fire is capable of so much destruction I still find comfort in it. Perhaps it provides the warmth I lost when my parents died. I will never know. I still have the scar that revealed the nature of my blood. I often trace the jagged cut trailing down my left arm. A reminder of the pain love will always cause.

It has been 97 years since a nuclear apocalypse wiped out everything on earth. Bekka Pramheda (the first Commander) landed on Earth and injected the few survivors with nightblood so they could survive on the scorching earth. These survivors formed the society I live in today. Throughout the decades nightblood became sparse and was only inherited in a few. Only natblidas or nightbloods can be the Commander (Heda), and so those found to carry the trait are sent to the capital to train to be the next Heda. When the Heda dies the natblidas fight to the death in a conclave, the last one standing is declared the next Commander.  Today's society is made up of 12 clans; Trikru (Woods Clan), Azgeda (Ice Nation), Floukru (Boat People), Sankru (Desert Clan), Yujleda (Broadleaf Clan), Delphikru (Delphi Clan), Trishanakru (Glowing Forest Clan), Ouskejonkru (Blue Cliff Clan), Podakru (Lake People), Ingranronkru (Plain Riders), Louwoda Kliron (Shadow Valley) and Boudalan (Rock Line).

I walk over to the very edge I warned myself to stay clear off and sit on the stone railing. My legs dangling over the abyss, I play with my undeniable death. I do not fear death, because to fear the inevitable is merely weakness and is likely to result in the inevitable occurring sooner than planned. I must admit the city I live in is quite pretty. From this height, one can see the entire expanse of the capital. Polis. That is the name of this beautiful area. Polis is the name of the Commander's home. My home. People from every clan can be found here. Families, merchants, warriors, you name it. Some are here only temporarily, just traveling through or trying to make a wage, others are here more permanently, calling Polis their home. I open my home to whoever requires a place to stay, but unfortunately, some people like to take advantage of that and I have had to enforce new laws for those that visit.

The city is surrounded by large walls that lose in height only to the tower itself. The walls have withstood a nuclear apocalypse and many attacks from clans in previous wars. Never once failing to protect its citizens. The tower is the centre of the city, surrounded by merchants and their stalls, and then further out are homes with soldier accommodations and training areas being furthest out. There is only one way in and out and that's through the main gates located to the right of my position, just a mere blur from this distance. These gates are crucial to the protection of the capital and are heavily guarded. Each newcomer is searched and required to pay a fee. It is only a small fee merely just enough to ensure the person hasn't come to be a nuisance and steal from others. Of course, there is actually more than one entrance and exit but that's for use only by the Commander and a few trusted personnel.

A bell for dinner rings, shaking me from my thoughts makes me aware of the sun just barely showing. Only a sliver of its warmth and brightness that it had previously basked me in. I had been up here for much longer than intended and now I had to say goodbye to my small sliver of freedom and become the Commander once again.