720 days since Praimfaya.
It had been a long day of spear-fishing. And of course, as always, Clarke had brought back home a few fish and a considerably happier Madi back home.
Although Lexa never voiced it, she had always appreciated their spear-fishing sessions. Despite Clarke being, apparently, not so good at the sport, Lexa did appreciate the haul of fish they would bring home—but more importantly—the alleviation of Madi's mood.
It was no secret that Madi had been different, ever since Carl Emerson. She had become quieter; less energetic; slightly more saddened throughout the days. And it was in times like these when Madi speared fish or chatted with them whenever she was in a better mood, that Lexa had truly appreciated the effort that Clarke took to help Madi through her sadness.
And some of those differences were more apparent than others. For example, Madi would perk up whenever there was talk regarding a shadow— even if it were passing ones that didn't even regard the shadow which was on Madi's mind. Once, Lexa had asked Madi of her theories regarding the shadow; which had resulted in a spiral from a furiously-dedicated Madi, all of which she patiently listened to and took in, and Madi had only stopped due to a call for dinner.
But did she believe in Madi's theories surrounding a shadow? Lexa would not dub it implausible. After all, she herself had seen a shadow, when she was dangling away from her death in Carl Emerson's trap. She had, however, assumed it was Carl Emerson; and it was likely so; for it was his trap, after all, and hunters often looked after their own for capture—and the shadow itself had not attempted to rescue her in any shape or form.
But if she factored in Carl Emerson's denial; then the entire shape would change.
A simple reason would be that he was lying. The other required an evaluation that was too surreal to even imagine, much less comprehend.
(But why was it so incongruous, then?)
Clarke's yell from the counter broke her from her reverie. She looked up sharply. ''Hey Lexa, do you usually cut of the second mutated head of the fish, or...?''
Clarke was examining the fish like it had sprouted two heads—which, fine, perhaps was true, but she supposed that Clarke would've been over the mutated animals half a year ago. Madi seemed slightly curious at the statement, momentarily bringing her out of her thoughts on the couch. Lexa whipped her head towards Clarke in half-disbelief, as if to gauge if she was joking or not.
She was not.
With a sigh, she said: ''Clarke, if they've mutated so far by now, you wouldn't be able to tell which was the original head and which was the new one,'' Lexa muttered, exasperated, much to Madi's joy and Clarke's bewilderment. ''Just cut both of them off.''
''Yes!'' Madi yelped. And when both of them stared at her, she gave a sheepish grin and bolted into her room.
Clarke raised an eyebrow.
Lexa looked away and sighed.
This was her life.
...
EIGHTY-SIXTH NIGHT.
I DREAMED ABOUT A COMMANDER!
HOLY SPIRITS! EVERYONE SAID THAT I WAS NEVER GONNA GET ONE OF THOSE DREAMS 'CAUSE THE COMMANDER'S SPIRITS WOULDN'T BE BOTHERED TO CHOOSE SOMEONE LIKE ME, BUT THEY DID!
AND IT WASN'T ANY OLD COMMANDER—IT WAS MADDIE THE COMMANDER!
SPIRITS I SAW EVERYTHING!
IT WAS AMAZING! I GOT TO GO 'ROUND THE FORESTS AN' I HELPED HER FIND THE JET! IT WAS REALLY RUDDY BUT IT LOOKED LIKE IT HAD SO MANY WORKING PARTS AND SPIRITS I'M SO EXCITED!
