❝even the smallest person can change the course of the future.❞

-j.r.r tolkien, author

♛

OUR PLAIN FAILS MISERABLY. Clarke had barely been able to utter the passphrase before Luna had caught on, successfully taking the Flame from her and holding it hostage until nightfall.

It comes slowly, the wait agonizing, especially now that we know there's no hope of getting through to her. The day drags on and on. Finally, dusk begins to settle and several people arrive to heard us back to the metal rectangle we'd been stowed in upon arrival.

I turn around, squinting to see in the sparse torchlight that lines the path in odd intervals. Octavia, Clarke, Bellamy... "Where did Jasper go?"

"Saying goodbye to his new friend," Octavia replies simply. She probably means the shark girl, whom Jasper had been talking to almost the entire time we've been here. It pleases me that he'd found a friend. However, it leaves an ache in my chest that he'd been happy and now we have to leave her forever.

The rest of the walk is silent. The man leading us unlocks the deadbolt on the door of the container, heaving the heavy thing open and revealing the captain and his crew waiting inside. Do they just hang out there all day?

"Sorry, Cap," Luna says in a surprisingly casual tone— I haven't heard her speak to her own people until now. "We have to take them back." The woman steps forward and tosses a bulky, canvas bag onto the floor of the metal box. Her voice switches back to her formal tone. "Your gear. You'll get your weapons once you land."

One of the crew members roughly shoves Bellamy forward. "Inside."

The captain glances at me expectantly, raising a thick eyebrow. I understand its hidden meaning and walk inside the metal confinement with a sigh. My boots make dull clunking sounds on the floor as I move.

"The Flame?" Clarke asks Luna, who digs it out of her pocket and holds it thoughtfully between her forefinger and thumb.

"Remember, Clarke," the Nightblood says, "a path of violence is a choice."

That's a pretty good motto to live by.

Clarke straightens her chin, eyebrows drawn together as she speaks. "When the choice is fight or die, there is no choice."

Also very true.

Suddenly, one of Luna's crew members rams his elbow into Octavia's cheek and uses the opportunity of her surprise to shove her into the container. Another pushes Clarke inside. Before any of us can properly react, the doors close and I can hear the faint sound of the deadbolt clicking into place.

"They took the Flame. They're locking us in," Octavia gasps in realization.

"Hey!" Clarke shouts, pounding her fists on the door. "What is this?"

I glance at our surroundings, noticing with dismay that there isn't another exit. The transportation-device-turned-prison is almost completely dark. The only things that allow me to see are the slivers of moonlight coming from the holes in the sides and ceiling. Even so, we're lucky that we have our gear. I quickly bend down and unzip the bag Luna had stored our weapons in, digging through it until I find my rifle and pistol, then the old dropship knife I'd stowed in my boot.

"Luna's people are attacking her," Bellamy registers as his calculating gaze sweeps over the two girls in front of him. "ALIE's here."

"How?" I ask, slipping the blade back into its hiding spot and securing my other weapons onto my body as well. The hint of nerves in my voice isn't masked whatsoever.

But even as the four of us share heavy glances, I know none of us have answers.

The best thing I can do is attempt to stay calm and rationalize the situation. My eye catches sight of one of the holes in the metal. Curiously, I bend down so it's eye-level and pull out my rifle, aiming the scope out of it in a vain attempt at gauging our surroundings. All I'm met with is the side of an identical chamber beside us.

A dismayed sigh falls from my lips. There aren't any holes on the other side, but I assume that it's the same picture.

Octavia reaches into the bag and retrieves a flashlight. She clicks it on, the pale light penetrating the darkness, and begins to search as well. Her eyes trail along the corners for any weak points. But as the minutes tick by, I become less and less certain that there's any way out of this place.

Bellamy begins ramming himself into the doors in attempt to break the lock on the outside. He grunts with the effort, but it doesn't seem to be working. Worn out, he steps away glares in that direction.

"Wait," he says. "There was a drone at Niylah's. ALIE must have followed us, looking for the Flame, and now she has it."

I faintly remember the sound of a gunshot coming from outside of her trading post. "But didn't you shoot it down?"

Bellamy shakes his head. "I thought so, but maybe not. Or she could have another one. Point is, she's gonna put the A.I in Luna."

Octavia beams her flashlight toward the ground as a frown pulls down her lips.

"She'd have to chip her first," Clarke says from where she leans against the wall. Her grave expression chills me to the bone, but it's even worse when her head tilts up until she's looking at me. "If Luna's chipped before she gets the A.I, ALIE's gonna know everything." She pushes herself to her feet as she continues, "We'll never be able to stop her. We can't let that happen."

I watch as Clarke storms toward the entrance, striking it with her palm. "HEY!"

But, as usual, it doesn't do anything. A prickle goes down my spine. There are so many people here— how many had been chipped the whole time? And how many have been locked up or killed to keep quiet? Surely someone could have wandered near us otherwise.

As Clarke's movements become more desperate, I step forward and place a gentle hand on her arm. She pulls away from the doors with heavy pants falling from her mouth. I wish I could have answers. I wish I could have a solution. But when her eyes meet mine, pleading for me to suggest something, I don't have anything to say.

I hope that Jasper's okay. The fact that he's alone with who-knows-how-many chipped strangers is terrifying to me. The boy has already been through enough— I couldn't imagine anything worse happening to him.

Clarke's saddened gaze drifts from mine. She wanders back to her spot against the wall and sinks to the floor until her back rests against the metal. After a moment, Octavia joins her, crouching so her weight balances on the balls of her feet. Bellamy takes a seat across from them. It should be natural for me to join them, but I find that I can't rest. My nerves are scattered, jumping around restlessly beneath my skin. I pace the floor instead.

"This place was safe until we got here," Octavia mutters as she aims her flashlight carelessly.

Just as she finishes speaking, a sudden clanking noise from the door causes all of our heads to snap in that direction. The lock lifts. A crack appears as the doors open, weak coughing coming from outside.

My heart jumps into my throat as I hurriedly push them open even further. The figure of a girl is crawling on the ground just in front of the prison, an arrow lodged into her back.

It takes me a nanosecond to recognize her— the shark girl. Jasper's friend.

"Holy shit," I gasp, crouching down before her to assess the damage. The poor girl falls to her side when her limbs aren't able to support her anymore. Blood drips from her lips and arms.

"A machine..." she says weakly, her voice trembling in time with her small body. "P level."

The girl releases one last shaking breath and goes still.

"She saved us," I mumble more to myself than the others. She saved us and we didn't do anything to her— none of us had even spoken to her. Which can only mean... "Jasper."

Clarke's saddened gaze flickers to the Blakes. "Let's go."

I rise to my feet and glance back at the young girl who'd trusted us in the midst of chaos, when we'd brought nothing but ruin to her peaceful home. She wouldn't be forgotten for what she'd done in her dying moments.

The four of us sprint through the dark oil ring, guided only by torches that line the pathways at odd intervals. The place is seemingly deserted. It had been lively and welcoming mere hours ago, turned upside down within a single moment. I can't help but feel like I'm running through an alternate universe. Everything feels so wrong, the air sending shivers down my spine as it spills through my jacket.

"P level," Octavia murmurs. Her voice is only audible to me because it's carried by the breeze, and I follow her to a seemingly nondescript floor. The only thing out of the ordinary is the spill of blood trailing out of it. The girl's blood. "Here!"

She kicks the door open, busting the hinges and causing it to swing all the way back until it ricochets off of the wall on the other side. Bellamy calls, "O, be careful!"

I file in after her and am witness to a horrible sight. Luna cradles a dying man in her arms, her hair soaked and plastered to her neck and face. Choked sobs fall from her trembling mouth. A little girl stands nearby, watching the scene with widened eyes. And, finally, Jasper is restrained with his arms tied above his head.

I step over an unmoving body to assist the boy. Octavia follows suit, and together we work on untying his wrists. The knots are tight— those of fishermen.

A heartbroken wail from Luna causes my chest to ache. I glance back at her, watching as she buries her face into the nameless man's hair and hugs his body close to her. My eyes tear themselves away after a few seconds.

"I'm fine," Jasper says quietly. "They couldn't break me."

Relief floods my system at the news. My fingers dig into the rope, pulling it apart to loosen the knots and successfully free him.

Until moments later, when his fearful eyes bounce between Octavia and I. "Shay?"

I soften my gaze as Octavia shakes her head. "I'm sorry."

The boy nods sadly, sniffling. "It's what we do."

But it shouldn't be. Jasper is younger than I am, and he's already seen more trauma than he should have. This shouldn't be something we have to get used to. And yet, Death keeps rearing its ugly head no matter how valiantly we attempt to stop it.

"I'm so sorry," Luna sobs as she cradles the man's cheek tenderly. "I'm so sorry."

Her wail splinters my heart. She'd been so motivated by peace, only to have to kill her lover.

My hands clench into fists. ALIE has taken too many people. Shay. Those Luna was forced to kill. All of Arkadia. Maybe even those in Polis. Too many lives traded, too few remaining.

There can't be any more.

—

Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia, Jasper, and I stand to the side of the mess hall. I observe the people sitting and talking amongst themselves, some holding mugs of hot tea and others staring aimlessly into space. They've all lost someone tonight. Despondency clings to the air, saturating it until it's all I can feel.

Luna has informed us that, after the horror that has transpired, she is agreeing to house the Flame and become the next Commander. The ceremony will also count as a memorial service for those who lost their lives during the battle with ALIE. Although I should be happy that she agreed, I can't help but feel weighed down by the circumstances of her compliance.

"Any one of them could be chipped and we'd never know," Bellamy says quietly, arms folded across his chest.

"If they are, they'll make their move before we put the Flame in Luna," Clarke replies, eyeing the woman as she approaches us from across the room. "Stay sharp."

"You changed your mind?" Jasper questions.

Clarke hisses, "Quiet."

Luna and another woman stop in front of us, the former holding a goblet and the latter carrying a tray with five others balancing on it. I accept one with a timid smile. The woman simply glares at me and then pointedly avoids my gaze.

Jasper notices and catches my eye. We both share an expression that says, So much for that.

"The ceremony is about to begin," Luna informs us.

Just as she's about to walk away, Clarke blurts, "Luna, wait." She turns, a blank expression on her face as she waits for the blonde to continue. "I'm so sorry. But now you see what we're facing— an enemy that will do anything to win. She won't stop until she has everyone."

Luna glances down at the Flame in her hand, toying it with her fingers. "People I love died today. Needlessly, at my hand. I can't let that happen again."

Clarke nods in understanding. Luna turns her back on us, raising her goblet to the assembly sitting before us. They rise at her command.

"As we prepare to give our brothers and sister to the sea, we honor their lives." She lifts her cup higher, speaking in Trigedasleng, "Kom woda 'so gyon op, gon woda 'so kom daun."

From water we are born, to water we shall return. It reminds me of the old proverb I remember hearing as a child: From dust we are born, and to dust we shall return.

I repeat the message along with the others, drinking from my cup in synchronization. The assembly returns to their seats afterward.

As Luna turns back toward us, Clarke informs her, "If we're gonna do this, we have to hurry. ALIE will send reinforcements. And we have to find someplace private to perform the ascension."

"You believe that to defeat an enemy who will stop an army that will stop at nothing, you must stop at nothing," Luna replies, her voice suddenly hard. "How is that different from 'Blood must have blood'?"

My eyebrows furrow at this sudden change in attitude. She'd been willing to—

"Wait a second, Luna," Octavia says in a slightly slurred voice. "You can't just—"

The goblet slips out of her hand and shatters on the ground as she drops down with it. My blurred gaze switches to Luna, but the fast movement causes me to stumble back just as I hit the floor.

Luna never meant to take the Flame.

_____

you just got PUNK'D.

seriously though that part was so well-executed, ya girl was SHOOK. (also i love and miss luna, who TOTALLY SHOULD HAVE WON THE CONCLAVE, JUST SAYING)

i'm sorry that this is kinda crap, i started it back when i wrote the previous chapter and really, really wanted to get it up for you guys.

also if i ever stop quoting tolkien just assume that i'm dead in a ditch somewhere because that man's literature is amazing

-kristyn