Questions
Lexa's pov
I‘m currently standing over the map Raven brought afore retiring to the tent set up for her, as Gustus‘ voice breaks through my focused state. “Heda, Onya don kom daun. (Anya is back.)“
I straighten my back, even though I know it will be in vain, and order him to send her inside.
As soon as the tent flaps are pulled to the side, my old fos steps through. Her war paint is a bit smudged from sweat and there’s dirt on her armor, no doubt from a fight, although definitely not enough to have been a long one.
The familiar feeling of safety comes into my tent along with Anya and my shoulders fall barely noticeable in relief of knowing her by my side.
Her bow is not as deep as it would be with others there to witness. “Heda.” I can hear the trace of a smile in her greeting. Of course she would observe my slight show of affection in the way I relaxed ever so slightly.
I shouldn’t feel like that towards her — or towards anyone for that matter — but I can’t help it. She has been with me for as long as I can remember. To be honest, Anya always was more a big sister to me than an indifferent teacher she should have been. Obviously, she did a great job at being my mentor, however, it was something personal from the beginning.
When I first met her, I was four years old and she was eleven. We would spend every free minute together and soon she started training me as a friend. As soon as she was officially a warrior and allowed to become a fos, she asked me to be her seken, as I was already familiar with her and she with me.
I still remember the first hunt we were on together and I caught a deer twice as tall as I was. I only celebrated for a short while afore my new fos told me, I would have to drag it back to camp myself.
The day before I left for Polis was the first and only time I ever saw Anya shed a tear. She feared she would lose me in the conclave and wanted to come with me even though she couldn‘t. Three years later, when I was twelve, won the conclave and ascended the throne as the new Heda. That day I saw her again for the first time in years, but since then everything changed. I still shared with her many things and even fears, just not as freely as I used to. She was my sister first and that was the only thing that never changed.
But that was a long time ago. Now, she stands before me — fierce, loyal, ready to die for me and the coalition — and I can’t help but see her as, yes, my former fos, but also as my sister and friend, someone I would die for in return.
If I lost her like I lost Cos- No. I won’t go there now. Not when a war is soon to be fought. Love is weakness — especially when my every decision could either cost or save a life.
So I steel my heart and my voice before demanding the report I’ve been waiting for.
Immediately, Anya’s expression hardens into the one of Heda’s general. “It was close, but we were able to capture the maunon. He’s currently guarded in a tent, but seemingly does not have much time left.” Not much time left? “What makes you think he will die soon? Is he sick?”
Anya shifts a bit in her place, however, she holds my gaze with her’s. “We ran into a Skaikru girl who told us that the maunon would run out of air in about four candle marks. She seemed to know what she was talking about and tried to explain it to me, but I was more focused on giving you the report and then retire for the night, hopefully.” Raven. Who else would it be.
Strange, how one girl can know more about such things than any other Skaikru — while none of my own understand even the first thing about… tech.
“Mochof, Anya. And yes, you may retire for the night. I will inform you on what I can find out in the morning. Reshop, ai fos.”
With another bow and small smile, she makes her way to the entrance. “Reshop, Leksa.”
The cold night air strokes my cheek as if to remind me of the harshness of the life on earth.
I know that, sometimes, I have to do things I don’t want to and won’t forget in the foreseeable future. Things, like what I might have to do when I reach my destination, haunt me at night when I lay down in my bed, alone, and rob me of the sleep I so desperately need.
The screams of the maunon will ring through my head tonight if he doesn’t give me the answer I want, no, need. I won’t feel guilty, I never do, but nonetheless, his will find me in my sleep just like all the others’ do.
If I’m being honest with myself, I’m scared of what I’m capable to do; of the monster I can be. Of the monster I am.
“Heda.” The guards at the prisoner’s tent greet me in unison, making me aware of my surroundings.
I give them a short nod in acknowledgment afore taking a deep breath and stepping into the tent.
I am not haunted by guilt — only memory. That is punishment enough.
The tent is dimly lit, shadows dancing across the canvas walls from the flickering torch outside.
The maunon sits on the ground, hands bound to a wooden pole behind his back, his chest rising shallowly. The sound of his breath is wrong. Wheezing, strained. Raven was right. He’s running out of air.
He looks up as I step closer. His eyes — bloodshot, but clear — meet mine, and for a brief second, I see no fear. Only… resolve, a determination not to give me any insights. Little does he know that his promise to himself will break like a twig.
He speaks first.
“Are you going to kill me, Commander?”
The title sounds strange in his mouth. Wrong. Not mocking, rather challenging, obviously trying to overplay the fear he’s feeling. His hand, however, gives him away in the way it shakes. I say nothing.
I crouch beside him, studying the strange suit that hides every part of his body, except his face, from my gaze. There’s a clock like thing on it, counting down what I assume to be the rest of his life. I can’t understand how it works. How does it know how long air can last?
Another reminder of how much I don’t know. And I hate it.
However, one thing I do understand. “You’re suffocating.” I finally say.
He lets out something like a laugh, but it turns into a cough. “So I’ve been told.”
I’ve seen what happens when a hole rips into their suits, I suppose it’s going to be a similar death to him once the clock hits 0.
“I could make it a quick death for you. It wouldn’t hurt. You wouldn’t feel the skin burn off your flesh as if acid burns itself a way through your body.” I talk without any emotion in my voice, as if talking about the weather.
His eyes flick away, toward the tent’s ceiling. I can almost hear his thoughts, but as he looks back at me, he surprises me when I see neither rejection nor acceptance in his eyes, just mere curiosity mixed with the premonition that he won’t be able to pay the price. Not with a clear conscience.
“But you want something in return.” It’s not a question, not really.
“Yes. We both know you will die tonight. Even if you could somehow manage to escape, you wouldn’t be able to get back in time. The only way you will die without great pain is to give me the information I want.”
“And what kind of information?” There’s scorn in his voice. A hate and disgust at the thought of betraying his people that I almost feel something like sympathy towards him. Almost.
“First, I want to know what woman you talked about on the.. radio, just before you were asked to return to the mountain.”
He’s silent for a long moment, thinking about the weight of the information, deeming it not too much of a betrayal, before answering. “You mean that blonde girl? I don’t really know anything about her, saw her maybe once.”
I make sure my voice won’t give my nerves away, then speak again. “And what did she look like?”
“I don’t remember much, just that there were many scars, a few in her face, oh, and her eyes. They were like ice, cold and a blue I’ve never seen somewhere else. What a pity it’s wasted on a savage like her.”
I can’t remember how to breathe, the air stuck in throat and my heart aching for her like my lungs do for the air I am depriving them on. It is her. I know it, no one else can be described like that. I can almost see her, feel her body moving against mine in the dance we shared so long ago.
I have to rip myself out of my thoughts and force my throat to let air stream into my lungs and I can only think one thing. She’s alive.
I stand, not able to keep still any longer and begin to pace.
“How do we disable the acid fog?”
Silence. Of course, he wouldn’t give away something like that willingly.
But then…
“You have to get inside first.”
I don’t know why I’m surprised. He’s a coward.
“There is a- “ He coughs, violently. His lungs sound like they’re filling with fluid. His time is running out faster than I expected.
I kneel again, closer now. “A what?” My voice is cold, but low. Sharp. Like a blade at his throat.
“There’s… a control room. Ventilation system. Pipes that run from the mountain… through the old tunnels. Power runs through them too. You destroy the control panel, the fog system shuts down. Or malfunctions. Either way… it stops.”
“And where is this control room?” I press. My hand tightens on the hilt of my blade — not in threat, but in restraint. I need answers before he dies, not vengeance.
“I don’t know. Please-“ Another cough, this time mixed with some blood. “Stand true to your word. Kill. Me.”
I just nod, pulling my sword out and angling it towards his throat. He doesn’t deserve to die easy, but I am a woman of my word just as much as I am a monster.
So I put pressure on the weapon, pushing it through his throat and neck.
His chest stops moving, his eyes stare blankly at me, and the shallow breathing that filled the tent silences.
Without looking back, I turn and leave the tent. There won’t be screams haunting me tonight, however, there will be a heavy silence in which I will wish there were screams to give me company.
There won’t be screams, so my thoughts will be just as loud.