❝if i cannot bring down heaven, i will raise hell.❞

-johnathan morgenstern, the mortal instruments

♛

FACING MY FEARS HAS been something I've dealt with daily for almost the full six months we've been on the ground. However, that doesn't mean it's gotten any easier. The excessive pounding of my heart as we climb down the tower in Polis causes my blood to rush in my ears, a thrumming roar. My stomach flip-flops until the feeling is nauseating. I feel light headed even as the soles of my boots finally touch the concrete ground, a sigh of relief falling from my lips.

The first thing I notice is the wailing. Even before I see the people in the square, I hear their cries of anguish, chilling me to the bone. Clarke moves to investigate almost immediately. Her steps are hurried and purposeful, but when she sees the body of a man who'd fallen from the tower, she falters until Bellamy and I reach her side.

But he isn't the only one who'd perished today. Two Grounders have already started piling bodies together, and there are so many that I wonder if they'll possibly have funerals for all of them. My face twists in concern for these people who have either lost a loved one or a part of themselves due to the City of Light. Or, in some circumstances, maybe even both.

Clarke turns to Bellamy and notices his troubled expression. His eyes seem to examine the people without really looking at them, eyebrows pinched and mouth pulled into a line.

"She'll be okay," she promises. "Octavia can take care of herself."

My eyes shift to the cement, stained with blood so dark it appears almost brown. Octavia had immediately gone to the Commander's chambers and climbed down the tower after running her sword through Pike. She must have landed not long before us, but I don't see her in the crowd.

"That's not what I'm worried about," Bellamy answers vaguely.

"She won't be charged," Clarke continues, desperate to ease his mind. "Everyone will say that Pike had it coming."

He blinks and shifts his gaze away from her for a moment. "Maybe we all do."

I feel the weight of his double meaning pressing onto my shoulders. Maybe his mind is flashing back to the cave, back to when his face had been covered in his own blood, back to when his sister had told him he's dead to her.

"How do we tell these people that the world is ending after everything they've been through?" Clarke asks through her breaking voice.

"It never stops, does it?" I mutter under my breath. "Around and around we go. Never a break."

"We don't, until we know that ALIE was telling you the truth," Bellamy says in response to Clarke's question.

She faces him, asserting, "It was the truth."

"Still," he says, "we keep it to ourselves until we know what we're dealing with and how to stop it."

Clarke tilts her chin up in recognition. "You're afraid of how people will react."

"Yes," Bellamy confirms without missing a beat. "Besides, we could use a break from keeping you alive. You gave them back their pain, Clarke. Let's not add to it by telling them they're gonna die in six months." Once Clarke nods, he copies her action. "Good. Once everyone's down, we go home, we get to work. We didn't survive this long just to let a little radiation take us out."

The irony of his comment causes the corner of my lip to tug upward.

Clarke looks like she wants to say something, but doesn't know how to. She bites her lip before flickering her eyes between Bellamy and I. "Thank you for keeping me alive."

I refrain from looking at the traces of Nightblood still staining my hands and buried under the crescents of my nails. "You're welcome."

As soon as I finish, a woman's wail cuts through the square. I quickly turn my head to see her crouched before a kneeling man's body. He appears to be unresponsive, his head flopped in an uncomfortable position and eyes closed.

Clarke rushes toward them, making Bellamy mutter, "You don't make it easy."

I scoff before following after her. The woman's pained cries tug at my heartstrings as I kneel before them, quickly scanning him for any external injuries.

Bellamy's gaze trails over the tower. "He didn't fall."

"He chased me in the City of Light," Clarke recalls, straightening up suddenly. "Lexa killed him."

I turn to the woman, whose tear-filled eyes meet mine. I make sure to keep my distance just in case, then carefully say, "En's ogud. Ai's laik hir gon sis au."

She nods. Slowly, I reach out and press my fingers to his pulse and wait. The woman's gaze burns a hole in the side of my head. Sure enough, there's nothing. He's brain dead.

But then, as the woman's head tilts up, her eyes fill with recognition. She slowly rises to her feet. The sadness on her pale face switches to rage, her mouth pulling into a frown. "Wanheda. Yu dulan dison."

I stand upon noticing that the people around us have recognized Clarke as well. Whispers surround us as their glares sharpen to steel, mouths twisted into scowls. I step back once the woman's hateful gaze flickers to me. She seems to have realized that I'm affiliated with the Commander of Death, and that means I'm to blame as well.

"Come on," I mumble, reaching blindly for Clarke's hand behind me. Her fingers latch onto mine after a moment. Once they're haphazardly laced together, I start to pull her toward a gap in the wide circle of people around us. They seem almost eager for us to get away from them and part with ease.

Once we're in a more secluded area, I release Clarke's hand and turn toward her. "We have to go."

"Fallon's right," Bellamy agrees after seeing Clarke's troubled expression. "You saw those looks they were giving us, Clarke. They blame us. And being here will only fuel their anger."

Clarke worries her lip and glances back at the angered crowd of people starting to disperse. "Fine. But we have to wait for my mom— we'll need her help to get our wounded into the Rover."

Bellamy nods, his lips pursed in thought. I glance back at the tower and notice how much blood is on the cement. Puddles of it have shifted into the cracks, splashing when people walk through them. How many people had been mid-climb when Clarke destroyed ALIE and had fallen to their deaths? How many people had to watch their loved ones hit the asphalt?

It seems that in conquering one enemy, we've only obtained a new one.

My gaze shifts forward to a man leaning over a child, whose left arm is dangling at an awkward angle. Her whimpers are audible even from where I stand. My heart constricts in concern and I march forward to help set it back into place, but as soon as the man looks up, he just as quickly unsheaths a sword and points it at my neck. I have to stop dead in my tracks with my arms raised to refrain from impaling myself.

"Bak op, Skaikru," he snarls, face flushing with rage. Slowly, I walk backward until I'm standing with Bellamy and Clarke again.

"Everyone hates us," I sigh as the man drops the sword and picks the young girl up. He carries her past us, not bothering to hide the hatred eating up his features.

"Yeah, what else is new?" Bellamy questions wryly.

Clarke mimics my sigh and turns toward the crowded square. "We need to find my mom."

She starts off in the direction of the tower, giving Bellamy and I no choice but to follow after her. Gasps of "Wanheda," follow us wherever we go. I occasionally shift my gaze to the blonde to gauge her reaction, but she marches on with no detectable emotions on her face.

I notice Abby and Kane approaching us from the base of the tower like they'd sensed we were in trouble. Judging by the expression on Kane's bearded face, he knows about the civil unrest around us. His eyebrows are drawn in and his hands rub together nervously.

"Good," Clarke says as she stops in front of them. "You're down. We have to go. The Rover's in the North Woods."

"What about the wounded?" Abby questions.

"Grounders don't want our help," Bellamy answers. "Our people, we'll treat at Arkadia."

Just then, a crackle of static comes from the speaker on Bellamy's radio. "Hello? Bellamy, please, come in."

My heart fills with relief at the sound of Raven's voice— she'd made it. But the worry in her tone causes my eyebrows to crease as Bellamy unclips the radio from his belt and turns away from the two adults to speak into it.

"Raven, you okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," she replies, sounding much more positive at the fact he'd answered. "Yeah, we're all in one piece."

"That's good," Bellamy says. "There's something we need you and Caleb to look into."

"Hang on," Caleb's voice replaces Raven's on the radio. "You can't just start ordering us around without telling us how things went."

Raven continues where his voice leaves off, almost as if they're on the same mental wavelength. "Did everyone make it? Fallon, Clarke?"

Clarke takes the radio from Bellamy and speaks into it. "We're here, thanks to you two. Raven, did ALIE ever tell you why she created the City of Light?"

"No," she answers slowly, voice filled with suspicion. "Why?"

Just as Clarke opens her mouth to respond, a man's faraway voice fills the otherwise quiet space. "Haihefa! En's kiken! Osir gaf fisa in!"

Clarke and I share a brief, wide-eyed expression. My jaw falls. I try not to let hope consume me, but it's difficult not to when there's only one king they could be talking about.

"Clarke?" Raven asks.

"Fill Raven in," Clarke commands as she hands the radio back to Bellamy, who nods and retreats to a quieter area. She then glances back at her mother. "They need a doctor!"

I sprint toward the source of the voice, watching as two men gently set a body onto the ground. Clarke kneels to his side and carefully turns him over. My heart drops into my stomach as the man's face rolls into view.

Roan survived. Although he appears dead with his face half-covered in his own blood and his hair damp with it, his choked gasp upon being moved is an indication he's alive. I remember watching the bullet hit him. He's been on the ground for at least three hours— he's extremely lucky.

"He got shot trying to help me," Clarke explains to Abby. "I thought he was dead."

Abby reaches across his body and puts two fingers to the exposed part of his neck. "Not yet, but he's close." She peers over his shoulder, only to find no trace of a hole going through his shirt. "No exit wound. We need to get the bullet out quickly."

I jump as the sharp sound of a sword being unsheathed meets my ears. A rusted blade appears at Clarke's throat, pulling her back and forcing her to slowly rise to her feet. A familiar voice orders, "Get away from our king."

"Wait, please," Abby pleads as she shoots to her feet, knocking into my shoulder because I haven't moved. I am rooted to my spot.

Behind Clarke, holding her firmly to her chest with the sword at the blonde's throat, stands Echo. Fury churns violently in my gut as I recall the last time we stood face-to-face. We haven't seen each other since she tricked us into abandoning Mount Weather. I remember every ounce of betrayal I'd felt when we'd gotten Raven's defeated message. How humiliated we'd been. The scars still apparent on Caleb's face and neck. All of those people who have been reduced to rubble and ash.

"Echo," I warm lowly, curling my hands into fists at my sides.

She merely inclines her head to the side in acknowledgment. "Fallon. I'd watch yourself if I were you."

My upper lip pulls into a sneer, but Abby takes hold of my wrist protectively as Skaikru guards load their rifles and point them at Azgeda.

"You're making a mistake," Kane says calmly, ever the diplomat. "We're part of the Coalition."

"I could save him, but you have to let me," Abby says so quickly that she almost trips over her words. Her grip tightens on my arm, but it's only to keep her hands from trembling and giving away her fear.

"We have our own healer," Echo responds. To the Azgeda army standing behind her, she orders, "Lid haihefa-de gon bangeda seintaim kom ostof kom oso stedaun. Dula'm op nau."

I bite my lip, fighting not to point out that their healer probably isn't acquainted with bullet wounds. It would likely only make the situation worse.

"Echo!" Bellamy's voice rises from the crowd behind us.

Clarke's eyes widen. "Hey, Bellamy, don't!"

I turn and realize why she'd been so afraid. Bellamy's face is filled with rage, his steps forceful as he pushes his way past the guards with guns. Kane takes his arm just before he passes us. Bellamy jabs a finger toward the girl holding our friend hostage.

"Let her go, Echo," he demands, voice dark and deep with anger. "Let her go!"

"Back off, Bellamy," Echo replies nonchalantly.

Kane pulls him closer, still keeping an iron grip on his shoulders in case he gets any ideas. I stand in the same place as I was before. My nails are starting to break through the skin from how tightly my fists are clenched. I tighten my jaw to refrain from showing any sign of pain, even as my discontent turns my glare laser-sharp.

"Your king is my friend," Clarke gasps, struggling to keep her breathing even so the sword doesn't cut her neck. "Let us help him."

"I saw you in the City of Light," Echo murmurs in a strange moment of what could be her version of civility. "I know you destroyed it. Thank you for that."

With that, she lowers her sword and shoves Clarke forward. The blonde's feet stumble to keep her from falling, and I move for the first time in minutes to reach out and catch her.

"Are you okay?" I whisper. My palms sting; when I release Clarke's elbows, I notice crescent-shaped cuts in my hands. My red blood is a stark contrast to the ghosts of Nightblood still staining my skin.

Clarke's only reply is a nod and a hateful glance backward.

"Look around you," Echo commands to the rest of the congregation surrounding us. "Skaikru did this to us. Because of them, Ontari, your rightful Commander, is dead. This imposter stole our Flame."

"No," Kane protests, his voice now laced with anger as well as he takes a step forward. "Wanheda saved us. All of us— Grounder and Skaikru."

"There would have been nothing to save us from if not for you," Echo retorts.

Kane shakes his head. "Azgeda has no authority here."

"We do now. In the name of King Roan, as rightful caretakers of the throne of the Commanders, Polis is now under Azgeda rule."

"Like hell it is," a woman's voice replies. The source is a female about Abby's age, with her brunette hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her gray eyes stare Echo down without fear as she steps around us and faces her. Although she's small, she's intimidating. "Where's your war chief, girl?"

"Our war chief is dead, Ambassador," Echo replies. "As a member of the Queen's guard, command of the army has fallen to me until the king awakens."

"If he awakens," the ambassador corrects. Then, she turns to address the crowd, her voice filled with authority. "Until a new Commander can Ascend, Polis is to be ruled by Ambassadors of the Coalition. If Azgeda wants it, they must take it by force."

Without missing a beat, Echo slashes her sword so quickly I almost miss it. My body stiffens as blood drips from the blade. The ambassador's lifeless form crumples to the ground, her head falling down after it. Her gray eyes are forever trapped in their shocked state as they stare unblinkingly at the crowd.

"Consider it taken," Echo says blankly. "No Skaikru leaves this city. Gon Azgeda!"

She lifts her bloody sword into the air, the army behind her copying her movement with rallied cheers as they raise their spears. I swallow thickly. Echo gives us one last challenging glare before turning and heading straight into the crowd behind her.

Bellamy sighs. "Looks like saving the world will have to wait."

—

I press my hand to a little girl named Vienna's back, urging her through the dark maze of underground corridors. "Come on. We need to keep moving."

Major Charles, the guard ahead of me, pushes the doors to temple open. I stand by the entrance until all of the people in our group passes by, led by Frederick through the back passageway.

As soon as I step inside, I marvel at the number of candles in the room. They're everywhere— mounted on the wall, on shelves, and positioned on tables, illuminating the otherwise dark room in a musky glow. I can't deny that the temple sends a chill down my spine. There are old contraptions I can't discern that have been covered in a century's worth of rust and grime. Old books — actual paper books instead of electronic ones — have been placed on desks. But still, something seems off about it.

"Sir, that's all we could find," Charles reports to Kane, who has just finished passing on a child to Frederick. The last of the group passes through the secret exit. "We stationed ten guards at the temple door. Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

"You lead them home, Major," Kane replies, clasping the man's hand in a firm handshake. "We'll be there as soon as we can."

Charles turns and nods to me. I nod back, giving him a slight smile before he heads through the almost invisible hallway in the back of the room. The door thuds as it shuts behind him.

My eyebrows crease upon noticing Kane clenching his hand as if in pain. I step forward to examine him, but Abby beats me to it, wordlessly rolling up the sleeve of his shirt and revealing a white bandage I hadn't noticed before. I can't see the wound from where I stand near the door, but I can hear the sickening sound of the bandage peeling away from it.

Clarke watches them with the Flame in her hands. She seems to be toying with it to occupy her fingers, though her gaze flickers up to them as Abby whispers, "Marcus..."

"I'm okay," he asserts quietly as if he doesn't want us to hear. His hand reaches up to cup the side of Abby's face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "We focus on what comes next."

The tiniest of smiles tugs at the corners of Clarke's lips.

I turn around at the sound of the doors opening. Indra enters the temple, her armor clanking with every purposeful step. She approaches Kane emotionlessly. They regard each other for a moment as he searches for something to say. I'm sure it's going to be an apology, but to my surprise, Indra wraps him in a one-armed hug before any words can fall from his lips.

Bellamy closes the door behind Octavia and crosses the room to report to Clarke.

"Well?" she prompts.

"You're not gonna like it," he sighs.

Indra releases Kane. "When you destroyed the City of Light, there were a thousand Azgeda warriors inside the city of Polis."

"Good timing," Octavia comments dryly, shifting her weight onto her opposite foot.

"The only way to remove them is by force," the woman continues.

Octavia's response is immediate. "Then let's remove them."

"Slow down," Abby says, holding a hand up to the girl. She turns to Indra, hardening her voice. "You're talking about a war."

"Yes," she confirms. "Rocklike, Floukru, and Broadleaf will join Trikru without question, but we'll still be short."

My eyes widen at that remark. Four clans joining together would still make us the weaker link?

"This is madness," Abby asserts. "We should be leaving with the others while we still have time."

Kane shakes his head. "They know where we live. If we run, they'll follow. There are eight other clans. How do we get them to join us?"

"I can do it," Indra replies confidently, "but I'll need the Flame."

All eyes turn to Clarke, who immediately responds with, "No."

"Clarke," Bellamy says, "the clans will follow whoever has the Flame."

"Azgeda won't," she argues.

"Then we fight," Octavia affirms. "That's the point."

"No, it's not," Clarke says. "The point is, there's no time for a fight. We have to save Roan."

My head snaps back in her direction, noticing Bellamy's gaze on her as well. His eyes drift to mine from where I still stand near the door. We both know where Clarke is going with this, so I step into the open space between him and Octavia as casually as I can.

"Save him?" the younger Blake questions incredulously. "They won't let us near him."

"Wait a second," Abby cuts in, having recognized the gleam in her daughter's eyes as well. "What don't we know?"

Clarke hesitates before replying, "The reason ALIE created the City of Light."

"Why?" Kane asks.

She turns to me and then Bellamy, asking a silent question that he nods to. Her lips press into a thin line before she recounts the information she'd told us as we'd descended the tower. "Nuclear reactors inside power plants that survived the bombs are melting down. Radiation levels are already rising. If we can't figure out a way to fix it, all of us will be dead in six months."

My gaze sweeps around the circle, calculating everyone's reactions. Octavia tilts her head skeptically with her eyes narrowed. Indra swallows. But Kane steps forward wide-eyed, questioning, "ALIE told you this?"

"Yes," Clarke confirms.

"And you believe her?" Abby asks.

"Raven and Caleb are looking into it right now," I respond coolly in an attempt to ease the palpable tension in the room. The temperature is already warm due to the hundreds of candles in the small space, and if people start fighting, it'll only increase.

"I believe her," Clarke says.

"Even if that's true, it's six months away," Indra points out. "There are a thousand Ice Nation warriors on the street who want to kill us today."

"They won't kill us."

"How could you possibly know that?" Octavia demands.

Clarke turns toward her calmly, determination etched in her features. "Because we're gonna surrender."

_______

me, hitting my head on the table: this is only half of the season premiere oh my god

i had to cut this off somewhere soon so it wasn't too choppy, so the next one might have some time skips of a few hours.

welcome to season four!! the overall quality of the story will improve because i was not in a good mindset for season three. i did not like it very much :/ but yay for fallon's return!

i published a story yesterday about how to write the 100 fanfiction. check it out if ya want some tips, tricks, & info!

+ bonus: a gif i made of caven

-kristyn

TRANSLATIONS

En's ogud. Ai's laik hir gon sis au: It's okay. I'm here to help.

Wanheda. Yu dulan dison: Wanheda. You did this.

Bak op, Skaikru: Get away, Sky Person.

Haihefa! En's kiken! Osir gaf fisa in!: The king! He's alive! We need a healer!

Lid haihefa-de gon bangeda seintaim kom ostof kom oso stedaun. Dula'm op nau: Take the king to the embassy with the rest of our dead. Do it now.

Gon Azgeda!: For Azgeda!