Persphyni : I am Darkness

32

Clarke had come back down with the nail thingy that was stabbed into the grounders hand. The thing was covered in dry blood and fresh blood. I took that as a sign to go back up there. Without an audience.

As I climbed up onto the second level I watched Octavia jump off the ladder and make her way to another part of the room, guess she also had come to check up on the grounder. I continued passed, ignoring the looks from people as I climbed.

"Miller, out." I stepped onto the third level seeing only Miller sitting and watching the grounder.

"Now. If Bellamy gives you shit just tell him I'm up here." Miller still seemed reluctant to move. "Look Miller, your dad told me to keep an eye on you and everyone else. I'm not going to do anything reckless like letting him go." Yet. Miller reluctantly headed to the ladder, and slowly climbed down as he still had internal conflict. Once his head was passed the hatch, I shut it and pushed the box on top of it so that I could have some alone time.

"Will you let me clean some of that dried blood off?" I asked as I slowly approached him. Taking my dagger and gun out and resting them on a table to show him I was unarmed. I even took my jacket off to check out my own cuts. The grounder didn't respond but his eyes flicked to the hatch.

"Sound proof from in here, but not coming from out there. So we can hear them, but they can't hear us." I walked over and picked up one of the rags that was hanging in a bucket.

"Why'd you kick me?" I whispered as I backed up and pulled my tank off to clean up myself sense he hadn't answered my first question. I slowly began to clean up the dried blood, noticing the rather large cuts on my abs and torso stung when I actually acknowledged their presence.

The grounder hadn't answered as I wiped myself free of dried blood to see the ugly red cuts that would possibly scar. I got to my neck and lightly scrubbed since I had no idea where all of the dried blood was, but the small pulsing in my neck told me where the cut was.

I turned around to grab my tank when I heard the grounder's sharp intake of breath. I stayed with my back to him and moved my ponytail braid out of the way.

"Yeah, I'd be surprised too." I hummed softly. Feeling his eyes scan the course of my back. The lines that ran vertically, horizontally, and diagonally. So knit together yet so spread out to create one large masterpiece.

The scars were faded, my six years in the arena kept me away from the dark grey room, even if it put me in solitary. Few were raised and if I put my hand down my back on some, I can still feel the flesh being cut or hit. I found a tshirt resting on a box in the corner, making my way to it to throw it on instead of my olive tank that needed to be trashed.

I pulled the surprisingly soft and long dark blue faded shirt over my torso, finding it to be big on my frame. So I did what any girl does and tied the shirt to make it work for now.

I walked back over to the grounder, picking up the other rag and looking into his eyes.

"Please." The grounder didn't stop me as I moved the rag to his stomach.

"My name is Persphyni Atlys. Though judging on your red tally my message had been delivered?" I asked breaking to look at his eyes. He stiffly nodded, a small movement.

"So I am the red tally, guess it makes sense. What does it mean? Keep an eye on? Danger? Kill on sight?" I chuckled to myself as I came up with different ideas.

"Potential ally. Gona." I didn't react as surprised as I felt. Just continued to clean his cuts.

"Ally in grounder is gona?"

"No, gona means warrior. And it's Trigedasleng." I smiled to myself.

"Sounds like a good title. My sentence I spoke to you, what does it mean." I rewet the rag and continued on his cuts.

"Gonplei ste odon, fight is over." I nodded as his voice remained a low whisper.

"Lincoln."

"Pleased to meet you, Lincoln." I stepped back once I had finished his torso. "Will you let me wipe some of that off your forehead? I'm not going to pressure you."

"What happened?" I figured sense he answered me I'd tell him.

"Blades and a whip. My life from age six to twelve." I brushed my finger over my left cheek, along the scar. "They're beautiful pains." I set the rag back down in the bucket.

"I'll be back later, or maybe Octavia." I have him a knowing look. "I have someone to beat into the ground." I pulled my leather jacket back on, rearming myself.

"Don't go anywhere." Lincoln glared at me. "Sorry, too soon." Yeah, I thought I had made it on his good side. Not there yet.

"I'll get Octavia to bring you up something to eat." I opened the hatch and started to climb down pausing just before he couldn't see me head anymore. "Thank you." I whispered looking into his eyes. He nodded his head once and resumed to stare at the ground.

I climbed down the ladder seeing people sleeping as we waited for the storm to pass. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. I went down to the first level and passed the sleeping Raven, Finn, and Clarke and headed over to the dropship's door. Sitting on the floor right above the lever and closing my eyes.

Humming softly, I finally let myself relax. The sound of the storm dying outside helped keep me in peace as I let my mind play what had happened in the last two hours before storing it away.