Saviors ; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥

105. ꕥ The Burning Question

Usually, I don't sleep very well. Whether it's the nightmares that now rarely plague my mind or the constant worrying and my mind racing, never taking its rest, something was always keeping me up. Even when I was little, there was always the thought of what if we get caught somehow that constantly ran through my mind. It was this never-ending cycle of constant worrying and continuously fearing for something that always prevented me from getting a lot of sleep. The only time I would ever actually get any sort of decent sleep was when I was with John. Knowing he was there comforted me — it made me feel safe. Then it became Bellamy who made me feel safe, allowing me to get some sleep, but that had stopped when Pike showed up. Since, I've barely gotten an ounce of sleep.

And though the funny thing was drinking whatever they gave us on the beach and being knocked out because of it was the best rest I have gotten in a while. There wasn't the wondering of what was going to happen tomorrow looming over my head — my mind was blank. For the first time for who knows how long, I actually slept soundly and was able to rest. But like most good things in my life, it came to an end.

I was being lightly shaken awake, hearing whoever was doing the action faintly calling my name. My eyes slowly fluttered open, trying to adjust my vision due to the lack of light. As the voice became clearer, I could make out who it was.

"Jo?" Bellamy said, for what seemed like the millionth time. "Are you okay?"

I groaned, sitting up and stretching my arms as Bellamy, who had been hovering over top of me, backed off. I looked around, taking in my surroundings and seeing everyone else waking up. We were in a tan metal rusted container with small holes littered throughout, letting light soak in and allowing me to grasp the time of day.

"Where are we?" I questioned, pulling a few strands of hair that had become more like dreadlocks behind my ear. Bellamy, who had stood up, reached out his hand, which I gratefully took and helped me to my feet.

My question went amiss as Octavia reached behind her back, searching for her sword. "My sword's gone."

"Guns too." Jasper said as he stood up.

My hand fell to my thigh where my holstered was, feeling that nothing but the holster was there. "Mine's gone too." I said before Octavia began pounding on the metal walls while I followed Jasper's actions, turning around and peeking through one of the many holes. "I can't see anything but a blue sky."

The sound of the doors creaking open had me turning from the small hole to the opening doors, squinting my eyes in an attempt to look past the sunlight and see who was there. It was only when a figure walked inside of the container that I could tell it was Luna, who looked exactly like what Lincoln had drawn in his book.

"Luna." Octavia breathed in sheer amazement as she moved forward, everyone following in tow.

"Where's Lincoln?" Luna asked with a calm and composure voice, glancing at everyone before settling back on Octavia.

There was a pause; I diverted my gaze away from Octavia to Luna as the former said, "Lincoln is dead."

Luna frowned, looking down disappointedly at the floor, and Clarke took this as her chance to speak, looking at the Grounder with the small box that carried the AI in her hand. "Lincoln said that you would help us."

"Did he?" Luna contended, raising her eyebrows.

"Luna, you're the last of your kind. The last Nightblood." As Clarke spoke, there was a faint smile on her face, and I couldn't help but wonder why.

She nodded. "So Lexa is dead as well."

Clarke's expression immediately fell. "Her spirit has chosen you to become the next Commander. Titus entrusted me with the Flame to give to you."