Just Surviving (#Clexa)

Winner

Clarke POV

When Titus disappears after the Purification Ritual and we're sent back to my room to collect our things, I still feel like I don't have enough answers. It's all good and well that Lexa's Nightblood novitiates have taken my best interests at heart, but they're all children. None of them can match Ontari's skills.

How is it going to be a fair fight?

Lexa, I need you right now. I need you to tell me what to do.

I can imagine her lying in a bed somewhere, eyes closed, skin pale. Some stranger cleaning and stitching her wounds. I can imagine her waking up and knowing nothing; thinking nothing. Not remembering anything that has happened.

That would be the worst, I think. If she didn't remember me.

'That's it,' I snap suddenly.

Murphy glances up at me, frowning. 'What?'

'We need to see Titus.'

'We need to get out of here,' the boy counters. 'What is it with you?'

I ignore him, storming past and exiting the room. He has to jog to keep up, following with an irritable scowl on his face. 'He's probably in his holy chambers – the man would kill us if we-'

'Take me there.'

Murphy rolls his eyes. 'Clarke-'

'We're going to get out of here,' I promise. 'But not until I know our people are safe.'

'I don't think safe exists anymore,' he mutters.

Nevertheless, he takes the lead, apparently remembering the route through the building right down into its underbelly. He'd mentioned it was where Titus had kept him and tortured him, so I'm not surprised the path is so starkly imprinted in his mind.

When I heave open the wooden door and step gingerly inside, I can see Titus kneeling beside an altar with a hand to his forehead. Praying, perhaps?

He whips his head around, angry at the disturbance, and rises rapidly to his feet. 'You do not belong here!'

Murphy snorts derisively, strolling into the room behind me. 'Really? Why is my blood decorating your floor?'

The bald man spins back to the altar, and I stare at his candle-lit silhouette. This room is exactly as Murphy had described it – the remains of dropship that they'd named their city after is the centrepiece. It reads POL__IS, with two letters missing. It is the origin of a religion that has existed among Grounders for centuries; a religion that Lexa believed in and was part of.

'There's nothing left for you in Polis,' Titus mutters. 'Why have you not gone?'

Murphy retorts. 'Yeah, that's what I'd like to know.'

'We need to talk about Ontari,' I say, ignoring my friend. 'She wasn't trained here. Why would you let her into the Conclave?'

Titus sighs. 'Ontari has the blood of the Commanders. It is her birth right to compete for the Flame.'

I abruptly realize what he's doing, and come up behind him as he readjusts his magnifying glass over the tiny metallic object sitting on the altar.

The spirit. Lexa's spirit.

As Titus lifts it gently into his palm, I'm hit with yet another bout of sadness, turning my eyes to his face. 'Is she really in there?'

The man returns my gaze softly. 'Of course she is.' He places the object back inside its box, sliding the lid shut, and adds, 'But she is also here. A spirit can exist in two places at once.'