ESCAPE ROUTE [THE HUNDRED]

CHAPTER ONE

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001 | SAFE PASSAGE
«the familiar crimson liquid»

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THE COLOR OF THE SKY had turned grey as dark clouds loomed overhead. An eerie atmosphere settled around the dim forest—fog and harsh winds gave away signs of an imminent storm in the distance. She needed shelter. Especially with her deteriorating vision and weak body; a place to rest would be the most logical option. Instead, Nova persisted on—despite the gash on her thigh and the dehydration, all elements that made it hard to even put one foot in front of the other. But she was close to her destination. Judging by the in-depth description given to her, Arkadia was close.

Just as the young woman took a moment to rest against the thickest tree in her surroundings, voices were heard in the distance. Instinctively, Nova slides her sword out of its sheath and hides behind the tree, out of sight. Trikru had its fair share of warriors and after all these months there was no telling the bounty on her head- being chased by her own people was not the only problem she needed to worry about. Though, as the voices grew closer Nova realized they spoke a different language, that used by their predecessors; it was English and not Trisgedasleng—they were sky people. She had made it.

As the footsteps became louder the more they approached her hiding spot, Nova suddenly grew more anxious. She had yet to formulate a plan good enough to win over the seemingly distrusting sky-people and was beginning to have second thoughts. However, as she looked down at the deep wound on her thigh, despite her best efforts to stop the bleeding, the familiar crimson liquid began seeping heavily through the thin fabric—she was running out of time.

"Skrish (shit)" She whispered to herself, carefully touching the soaked fabric. Her fingers were coated in blood and her hand trembling—fear, dehydration, simple fatigue, any could be a reason as to the reaction of her body. But, whatever the cause, Nova understood her next step. In a split second decision, the young woman placed her sword back in its place before taking a deep breath. I can do this she says to herself and with one brief look towards the sky, she emerges from her hiding spot; arms up in surrender.
Three men stand opposite, their weapons instinctively drawn and pointed towards her. They all shout at once, voices loud and in such a manner that even make Nova jump slightly.

"Who the hell are you." The man in the middle says. Through her blurry vision, Nova makes out a tall man with dark curly hair-shoulders tense as he hides behind his weapon.

"My name is Nova, and I come seeking safe passage." She states. The words roll off her tongue easily but her tone is still guarded-even the language sounding foreign from her own mouth. Clarke had warned her about the mistrusting skypeople and any misspoken word could end in her demise.

"What does that mean?" Another man asks. He stands beside the first, dark skin and a large scar adorn his face-his tone different, scared almost.
As Nova attempts to keep her body from swaying against the wind, she moves her left hand slowly to where she knew her ticket to freedom laid.

"Hey stop! Don't do that!" The taller man exclaims, fingers inching closer and closer to the trigger. Nova disregards his comment and quickly pulls out what could potentially save or end her life. She holds a lock of blonde hair, waving it in front of her face like a white flag.

"Please, I only seek safe passage, Clarke said you could help me." She says and immediately, their faces change.

"Clarke? You've seen Clarke?" The shortest of the three speaks out. His voice is sharp and his words urgent. All three seem to mimic each other's facial expression; disbelief as they stare at the short grounder stood in front of them.

"No, that could be anyone." The tallest points out, though his weapon had been lowered so that Nova was no longer starring into the barrel of the gun, "That doesn't prove anything, Clarke hasn't been seen in nearly two months." He adds. That's when Nova remembers the short mantra Clarke had taught her-if skaikru did not believe her.

"In peace may you leave the shore. In love may you find the next. Safe travels until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again" Nova recites. It seems that the words hold importance to the three, who become suddenly uncomfortable at the idea of a foreigner, a grounder, knowing their sacred greeting. But she was telling the truth-at least for now.
Each slowly lower their weapons completely and all seem visibly more relaxed.

"How did you know that?" The dark-skinned man asks, perhaps urging for details of Clarke. Though they seem to want to trust her, prejudices and ignorance keep them from stepping forward to help with her injured leg.

"Clarke." Nova affirms. Though she attempts to keep a concentrated look on her face, she can feel her head becoming heavy-by the way she cannot keep her body from swaying, "She..." Her eyelids begin to flutter, movement that she can no longer control "She told me to find Bellamy and Lincoln..."
Those are the last words she speaks before her body-exhausted by the lack of sleep and deep gash that was still bleeding, becomes weak and Nova falls to the floor. None of the men make any attempt to catch her, so she falls ungracefully onto the muddy forest ground. Her cheek is pressed uncomfortably against the damp leaves but Nova slips into unconsciousness; still hoping that her words were enough to convince them: she was not the enemy.

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