Chapter 1
"I'll bet you twenty credits that I'll get to the first trading point before you," Raven smirked, and fixed her intoxicated gaze right into Wells' eyes.
Wells took a sip from his mug before placing it down on the table between them, and crossed his arms. "Fifteen credits."
"Oh, come on, you can't barter on a bet, dumbass."
"Hey, we'll be dragging a wagon along with us. You'll just be running through the woods like it's nothing."
"But you'll be getting a ten minute head start! And you guys combined have four good legs, I only have one."
Finn leaned back in his chair and rested his hands at the back of his head. "You two leave me out of this. I already know Raven will win, it's up to Wells if he wants to throw away twenty credits on his pride."
"Fifteen credits!" Wells replied, pointing a finger at Raven.
"Fine," Raven sighed. "Fifteen credits. Shake on it?"
Raven and Wells nodded and shook hands, before all three friends clinked their mugs together. They were seated at the Blackberry Inn - though an uncreative name, it was the only inn on the Skaikru island. And being the only inn at an island out at sea, the Blackberry Inn's mugs were filled with ale every single night. And on this particular night, a few bards accompanied the drunken chatter of the inn with uplifting flutes and drums.
The drunken chatter of the inn broke out into a cheerful couple of yells, as the doors opened and revealed their clan Princess standing next to her personal guardsman. This night was no special occasion, and seeing the head of the clan finding herself a cup of ale at the local inn just because she wanted to; was a pleasant sight.
"Princess! You look wonderful as ever! Sit with us!" one group called at her.
"Oh don't join them over there! They reek of old fish guts!" another group yelled even higher, making her grin.
"Sorry guys, she's ours for tonight," Raven said as she stood up from her chair. "Hey, Clarke," she smiled, and embraced her clan leader.
-
A few good laughs, light-hearted conversations, and quite a few jugs of ale later; it was far past midnight, and most of the inn was half-asleep in their chairs or snoring at home in their beds. These four friends though - Clarke, Raven, Finn, and Wells - were still going strong, all though most of them had been yawning for the past thirty minutes or so.
Clarke was very fond of the fact that she could enjoy a good night with her friends without the rest of the clan straightening their backs and minding their tongues around her. She was their leader and their Princess - a title she actively loathed - but she was just as much part of them as they were part of her. At least that's what she had the impression of. Though, Clarke had not been the clan leader for long; four months had passed since her father was buried and the fate of her people was placed in her hands. She was brought up to understand that she would one day lead her people, but she never truly fathomed it, and she certainly didn't expect it to happen at the mere age of nineteen.
"Psst," Raven whispered, and narrowed her eyes towards the back of Clarke's guardsman, who was hunched over the bar, tired as ever. "Looks like the puppy dozed off. Isn't he supposed to guard you?"
"Be easy on him, would you? Apparently his sister has been tiring him out - rebelling in any way she can," Clarke responded. "Besides, there isn't really much of a threat here."
Wells stared at Raven. "Did you just call him 'puppy'?" He let his stare fall to Finn. "Finn, how does this make you feel?"
Finn raised an eyebrow at him, mostly because Wells' drunken personality had a tendency to annoy him. "He's a shape shifter, genius."
"He is?" Wells started laughing, a lot louder than he intended to. "Does he really turn into a puppy?"
Clarke and Finn sighed in unison.
"Actually," a gravelly voice hummed from the bar. "I turn into a wolf. But unlike your friend over there; I don't eat people's faces off."
"No one asked you," Raven gritted her teeth, staring down at the table, peeved and seemingly bruised by his words.
"Hey, Bellamy," Finn told the guardsman. "Not cool."
The comedown of alcohol consumption was starting to show on the group of friends. Accompanied by their yawns, they decided it was time to head for their sleeping chambers. Finn and Wells were travelling to the first mainland clan, Trikru, to trade and barter the following day - and a few hours of sleep would be better than none. Especially when Wells had fifteen credits on the line, and Raven - being Skaikru's most skilled hunter - was sure to win.
-----
Clarke opened her eyes as little as she could, and exhaled deeply as the light of the room filled her eyelids. She stretched her arms and legs, and ended up yawning; realizing how dry her mouth was. She flared open her eyes and blinked excessively, scrunching her nose and sighing several times. She was in bed, arms and legs spread out like a starfish, and even though her massive bed made her feel small and lonely at times - this time she was glad she was alone, because she figured she must have looked foolishly comical while adjusting to the brightness of a new day. She turned her gaze to her nightstand, relieved to see a giant glass of water waiting for her, most likely placed there by her mother earlier that morning.
With fresh water splashed on her face - and a good deal inside her stomach to deal with the dehydration from the previous night - she was now fully clothed in her signature dark-blue armour and ready to get on with her seemingly uneventful day. A belt with pouches of medical concoctions and sheaths for her trusted daggers hung to her hip, and her wild blonde hair was secured with a pin at the back. With only four months of leadership behind her; she couldn’t quite shake her previous profession of healing, and rarely left her room without some herbs or concoctions ready for use.
Without any political situations on her agenda; Clarke decided to take a stroll through the streets and markets on the island. The Skaikru clan resided on - the simply named - Skaikru island, which mostly sheltered them from the twelve other clans of the mainland. The only way to the mainland, whether it would be for trade, politics, migration, or whatever reason one would have for going to the mainland; was by boat. Being such a distance away from other clans; Skaikru rarely got involved in the daily struggles of bordering clans, and they were an easy target for jealousy and envy. Especially from Trikru and Floukru, the two clans closest on the mainland. Skaikru were known for having excellent healers, traders, and scholars - as well as having respectable warriors and hunters, despite hardly needing either of them. Having decent traders was a critical part of Skaikru, seeing as living on an island gave little wildlife and source for food and fur - but in return, they had a bountiful green island full of berries, plants, and herbs that didn't grow anywhere else.
Clarke was met by warm smiles and free samples of food from the stalls in the busiest street of the island. The sun was strong, and the sky was the clearest blue the eye could see. The constant smell of salt water hung in the air, and the busy stalls were full of sizzling fish in pans, clinks and clanks of equipment being made and tested, and chitter chatter.
"How's Octavia?" Clarke asked, staring up at her guardsman as they walked through the streets.
"She's okay, I guess. I don't really think she knows how she is herself," he replied. Bellamy's voice had a constant low and gravelly touch to it - whether this was his natural voice or his broodiness transforming it, was unsure to say. He was at the age of twenty-five, with a handsome face almost hidden behind tussled black locks and a slight stubble to his chin. Being Clarke's personal guardsman; he usually sported a single blue line of war paint across his right eye - which was a telltale of being affiliated with the leader of the Skaikru clan. He seemingly only cared about his little sister and his duties, but Clarke enjoyed Bellamy's company - she saw him as an intelligent albeit silent older cousin whom she felt a bond of trust to.
"She's trying her luck at healing. She's been learning from your mother," he said.
"Hopefully she'll bear my mom's strict expectations," Clarke replied.
"Hopefully your mother will bear my sister's poor patience," he smiled.
-----
After giving Finn and Wells a twenty minute head start - which was originally supposed to be only ten, but the ferryman insisted on a tobacco break before getting the boat ready for more passengers - Raven made her way through the Trikru forest. The first trading point was by a fork in the road not far from the giant mountain at the heart of Trikru land. Finn and Wells were restricted to using the roads, seeing as they were dragging the trading wagon full of berries, plants, and medical concoctions along.
Raven however, being a nimble archer and hunter, made her way through the trees and bushes fairly easily - despite her left leg. Her left leg lacking a huge chunk of muscle and flesh, which she never hid, wearing skin fitted leather leggings that showed every indent of her mutilated leg - for even though she wasn't proud of her curse; she sure as hell wouldn't hide it. Raven's curse was a gruesome one, one that had followed her since the age of eleven - attacked by a raging werewolf that nearly gnawed off her entire leg. It was a miracle that Raven could even walk at all, but thanks to the chief healer, Clarke's mother - Abby, and her powerful healing concoctions; if Raven gulped down one vial of this liquid every day - she could at least put some weight on her bad leg.
The Trikru forests were incredibly lush and full of life. While Skaikru island had an unmatched striking green glow due to its fresh air and grass - the forests of Trikru had massive trees and an alluring dark green tint to it, making it a highly desired spot for hunting, and for wood-elves who loved to hide in trees and breathe in the heavy air of leaves and wildlife.
Raven hid behind a tree, eyeing the trading spot. She smiled to herself as she saw that neither Finn nor Wells had made an appearance yet. "Those fifteen credits are mine," she whispered.
She waited a fair few minutes, before she heard two familiar voices coming closer to the fork in the road.
Finn and Wells pulled up to the stop, and Wells gave a great big "HA!" before grinning and cheering, trying to get Finn to cheer as well.
But Raven grinned the hardest, as she waited for him to settle his excitement, before she would leap out and surprise them, and really rub it in Wells' face that he lost the bet. That was, before she noticed that something was off, the gentle chirping of birds in the trees grew silent, and the air felt cold.
Raven saw two cloaked figures, hoods so massive that she couldn't make out a face, stepping out from the trees behind her friends. She opened her mouth to warn them, but before she was able to scream; the cloaked figures simply waved their hands, and both Finn and Wells fell flat on the ground.
She reached for her bow, getting ready to plonk down the mysterious figures who now circled around her friends. She drew an arrow, aiming her best at one of the figures.
Without ever letting go of an arrow - more cloaked figures stepped out from the trees and surrounded Finn, Wells, and the wagon. Raven froze. She could take down two, but a whole group seemed unlikely. Besides, Raven didn't just feel outnumbered; she felt an unshakable sense of sheer fear that overpowered her will to save her friends - even when one of those friends held a special part of her soul.
The cloaked figures now emptied the trading wagon, and replaced the goods with Finn and Wells' limp bodies, and pulled the wagon away, to the road closest to the mountain.
Finally, when every cloaked figure was out of sight, Raven managed to snap out of her frozen state, her eyes wild, and ran as fast as she could back towards the island.
-----
"No, no, no! What do you think you're doing?" Abby shouted.
"Uhm, helping!" Octavia replied, pouring a blue liquid into a bowl filled with grey powder. "I'm doing exactly as you said."
"You're doing the exact opposite of what I said," Abby snapped, and pulled the vial of blue liquid away from Octavia's hands. "A few more drops of that and this entire hut would be burnt to the ground."
Octavia rolled her eyes and slouched down on a chair. She had been practising the arts of healing for about a week, and was growing tired of cooking up concoctions and not using her actual hands to heal someone's cuts and bruises.
"How many times do I have to tell you? Healing roots in medicine. Plants, herbs. You can't just wave your hands and someone will be free of pain," Abby explained.
"Yes you can, I've seen you do it!" Octavia chipped in, explaining with her hands.
Abby's lips curved even further down than usual, and she stared at the brown-haired girl slouched in the chair. "You can't always use magic to heal someone. We're not elves."
"I'm a shape shifter though, that has to count for something?"
Abby closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "First of all," she began, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. "Thank the stars," she muttered to herself as she saw her daughter at the door, and she greeted her with a warm hug.
"Do we have a new healer in the clan?" Clarke asked, giving a nod at Octavia.
"I'll spare Abby the condescending 'oh she just has a lot to learn' speech and say that no way in hell am I becoming a healer," Octavia spat.
Bellamy seared his eyes into his sister, furious over her responding to anyone this way, but even more so when it was the clan leader, on top of that - his friend.
"Well, it's not for everyone," Clarke replied. "You'll find your calling soon enough." She walked with her mother towards the table of ingredients, her face lighting up in excitement to mix something together and feel the rush of making potions again, but Octavia wouldn't keep her mouth shut.
"When? There's nothing for me to do here. We're on an island in the middle of the ocean; I've never even seen the mainland!" Octavia got up from her chair.
Clarke shifted her eyes towards Bellamy and raised her brows - resulting in him lowering his brows at his sister and asking her to leave.
With an offended huff, Octavia stormed out the door.
-----
Out stormed Octavia, and two seconds later, in stormed Raven.
Panting, barely able to stand, Raven had to be held up by Bellamy, to her dismay.
"Raven, wh-" Clarke didn't know what to say. Both she and Abby stood there, puzzled and concerned.
"Someone took them," Raven finally managed to say.
"What?" Clarke replied.
"Finn! Wells! Someone took them!" Raven shouted, and ended up putting all her bodyweight in Bellamy's arms; passed out from exhaustion.