Warrior ‣ Bellamy Blake

Thirty-Seven

Kinda short. I know.

***

Aella was the first one to wrap her arms around Clarke in a sisterly embrace while she mourned for her lost love. The redhead wasn't the biggest fan of Lexa at first, but she and Clarke were perfect for each other.

"I-I," Clarke began before choking on her sobs.

"You don't have to talk," Aella consoled.

"I can't believe she's gone. She...I..."

Poor Clarke had to watch two people she fell in love with die in front of her eyes, so perhaps the young woman would give up trying to feel love with another person. Seeing those she loved become lost for just being around her was scarring and she was tired of it.

Love is weakness. Perhaps Lexa was right all along.

"Hate to interrupt, but what the hell did evil, bald guy mean by the whole 'conclave' thing?" Murphy asked, totally meaning to interrupt. 

"I don't know," Clarke answered solemnly. 

"I think I read something about that," Aella murmured, trying to remember where the hell she left the book. She reached into her pocket and grabbed the small book, opening up its wrinkled pages.

"Well, what did it say?" Murphy asked impatiently.

"The Flame, a small device protected by a Flamekeeper, holds the spirit of every Commander to have ever ruled before and is given to the next Commander," Aella read in English. "Only the Flamekeeper holds the instructions to perform the ascension of a Commander. It is essential that only the Flamekeeper knows how to perform the ascension, because if anyone else was to do it, they could steal the Flame and ascend a Nightblood of choice, making the Conclave redundant."

"The Conclave?"

"Dude, just let me read." She cleared her throat. "The Commander's Conclave is a rather bloody and brutal battle where every eligible Nightblood is forced to fight to the death, the victor becoming the next Commander. A former Commander will usually train a Nightblood of choice, bringing said Nightblood's chances of victory substantially higher. No Nightblood is known to have escaped the Conclave."

"Sounds promising."

"We followed our leader's example and continued the tradition. Unfortunately, she met a brutal end, as do most Commanders. Since Commanders' reigns do not last too long, it is not unusual for Nightblood children to enter the Conclave and ascend."

"Aden!" Clarke shouted. 

"I'm confused."

"Aden was the Nightblood Lexa was training to become the Commander. He needs to win."

"It's not guaranteed, but you could train him."

"I mean, that's promising, right?"

"Hopefully. Lexa's leadership could live through him."

"Yeah," said Clarke with tears still brimming her eyes. 

"That's awful. Kids killing kids... Couldn't they choose a Commander over a nice chess tournament for a change?"

"Don't be stupid, Angel," Murphy murmured, wiping blood off his face with his sleeve.

"I'm being a decent human, as-" She remembered Archer was in the room with a small smile on her lips as she corrected herself. "Murphy."

"Okay, I know I'm totally out of it, but who's the kid?" Murphy asked. "And why is he here? I'm lost."

"Me too," Clarke chimed in.