On The Ground (Lexa)

4.

It had been three days since their battle with the Reapers, and all had been quiet. The addition of Indra's warriors bolstered the ranks of their archers, and the guards that took to the trees could easily dispatch any Reapers that came within distance of TonDC. The extra soldiers also helped with the burden of hunting and gathering food, allowing the hunting parties enough numbers to move through the forest without much concern of an attack.

Anya had been right. The risk they had taken to bring Indra's villagers back, and the sacrifice they'd made in leaving the elderly and injured behind had been worth it. Their food stores were growing, and the extra hands were able to help with duties around the village like mending huts and sewing winter clothing. From the looks of it, they would survive.

Indra and Anya worked together well, and they led their people with purpose and discipline. Each day they would set goals, and each night they would discuss what needed to be done next in preparation of winter. It did not appear like there would be a struggle for power between the two women, but rather as if they were both happy to be sharing the burden of leadership with someone else.

Lexa emerged from her hut at the sound of horns announcing approaching riders. It was early morning, the sun overhead warm against her pale cheeks, but she could feel the cold bite of the approaching winter in the air around her. She moved to stand by Anya's side at the gates as four riders galloped into the center of the village.

A man climbed down from a black stallion. He wore long gray robes, his head shaved completely, and he stood with an ancient air of wisdom about him. He spotted Anya and made his way over to her, grasping forearms in their traditional greeting.

Anya took his arm and bowed slightly. "Fleimkappa," she said.

"Flame Keeper?" Lexa asked, her voiced filled with surprise. "What is he doing here?"

"I sent for him," Anya replied. "I must make my own sacrifice so that our people have a chance at a better future. You are ready, Lexa."

"Is this the girl?" the Flame Keeper asked.

"Yes," Anya replied.

The Flame Keeper took Lexa's hand without hesitation, drawing his blade and running the knife down her palm. It bit sharply at her skin but Lexa did not flinch, and she watched as her thick black blood pooled in her hand. The Flame Keeper pulled a cloth from the dredges of his gray robes and pressed it tightly to her palm to staunch the bleeding.

"Say your goodbyes, Natblida," he said. "You will join the rest of the novitiates in Polis."

Lexa turned to Anya, lost in a storm of emotion. She'd trained day in and day out her entire life so that she could be ready to go to Polis and fight in the conclave, and now her dream was actually being realized. "Thank you," she whispered.

Anya held out her hand and clasped Lexa's forearm. "You are the only person who can end the threat of the Mountain Men," she said. "You know what you must do."

Lexa nodded. "I will not fail."

"Remember your training, and carry my lessons with you."

"Always," Lexa replied, feeling tears sting her eyes. She would not let them fall. She would not let them see.

"May we meet again," Anya said, pulling her Second into her arms. She could feel Lexa shaking, but she just held to her tighter. "Steady your nerves," she whispered.

Lexa nodded and pulled herself from her mentor's grasp. The Flame Keeper led a horse over to her, and Lexa swung herself effortlessly up into the saddle, sitting proudly atop the steed. She would go to Polis and train beneath the Commander, and upon the Commander's death, she would win the next conclave. It was what she had been born to do.

The Flame Keeper spurred his horse to a gallop and trotted out of the gates in front of her. Lexa looked over her shoulder, sparing once last glance at her mentor and her home. "May we meet again," she said, and then took off after the Flame Keeper, leaving behind everything that she knew.

Her horse fell into stride beside the Flame Keeper, trotting easily through the underbrush. Lexa tried as hard as she could to hold back her emotions, but watched helplessly as a single tear escaped and slid down her cheek. The biting wind whipped against her cheeks and dried it almost instantly, but not before the Flame Keeper took notice.

"Hodnes laik kwelnes," he said, his tone void of emotion. "Love is weakness."

"If you do not fight for the ones you love, then what is there to fight for?" Lexa asked.

"Your people," the Flame Keeper replied.

Lexa nodded her understanding, though she was sure that he was mistaken. Her love for her people was strength, something to draw upon in battle, not something to hide from. She breathed in a deep breath, steadying her nerves and forcing her emotions to remain at bay.

"To be commander is to be alone," the Flame Keeper continued on. "Let that be your first lesson, Leksa kom Trikru."

"Yes Fleimkappa," she replied, her voice hard as steel.

"Call me Titus," he said.