notion • john murphy

50 - CONCLAVE

[ CONCLAVE ]

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   "Here to give me a pep talk?" Octavia asked, face half-illuminated by the candlelight in front of her. Sayah felt Bellamy tense beside her as they both stood awkwardly in the doorway.

   The two of them had decided to see Octavia together, try and talk her out of it. Sayah was sure that she should be the one to fight, whereas Bellamy, Bellamy just wanted his two sisters to stay safe, and no one wanted to admit it, but Sayah had a slightly better chance at winning than Octavia did. She had been trained for longer and trained by more people; she knew what she was getting herself into.

   But they all knew how stubborn Octavia Blake was.

   Sayah and Bellamy shared a quick look before approaching the girl, each taking a seat beside her. "You don't have to do this." Bellamy started. "We can find someone else to fight."

   "I'm guessing you're willing to," Octavia guessed, looking over to Sayah.

   "What was it that gave it away, the armour?" She chuckled lightly before clearing her throat. "Not to sound selfish, Via, but it should be me."

   "If I die, I die." Octavia shook her head. "At least I go down fighting." Her eyes were trained on the candlelight in front of her, not blinking once as she spoke.

   Bellamy shook his head lightly, lips pursed. "O—" He began.

   "Don't." Octavia interrupted him. "This is my decision, you guys." She swallowed, eyes darting between them before she got to her feet. "I know what the odds are," She told them, turning to face them. "I don't need you two pointing them out."

   A figure appeared at the door. Clarke. "It's time." She told Octavia softly.

   With one last glance at her two siblings, Octavia turned to leave the room. Clarke stopped her. "Hey," She nodded. "You got this."

   Octavia didn't reply, only sent a quick look of thanks to the girl before she brushed past her, heading outside. Bellamy and Sayah got up, approaching Clarke. "You really think she has a chance?" Bellamy asked.

   "Right now, she needs to believe it." Clarke replied, eyes down. Then the trio were outside, following Octavia. She made her way up to the stage as her name was called, and the others waited in the crowd, watching silently.

   "Accept the sigil of your clan and fight with honour as their champion." Gaia told Octavia, who stood tall and confident. Gaia clasped the necklace around Octavia's neck and Sayah frowned, watching as Octavia stood in line beside all of the other champions representing their clan. That should be her. She should've tried harder.

   Trishanakru was called, and their warrior, Illian made his way up next, taking his sigil and standing beside Octavia. Throughout the line, Octavia seemed to be the smallest, but Sayah didn't care. Octavia was strong, and anyone who doubted that, would die in this conclave by Octavia's hand. Sayah was sure.

   "We all know why we are gathering here today: The final conclave." Gaia addressed the crowd. "A battle to the death within the walls of Polis. These warriors will fight until only one remains. When that warrior collects all of the sigils from the fallen and delivers them to me, they will be declared the victor. This final champion alone will tell us which clan is meant to survive in the crypt of Bekka Pramheda, and which clans are meant to perish in Praimfaya."