❝ everyone from my time is dead. i don't belong here; i don't belong anywhere. ❞
Ninety-seven years ago, the earth became soaked in radiation, leaving few survivors. Some of them were stuck up in space, not knowing when it would be safe to return. O...
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LIFE IN POLIS SEEMED to make living in Arkadia look archaic. Simply because the food selection was larger than lettuce and a mysterious meat of the day. There were freshly washed clothes waiting at the edge of her bed when she woke up that morning, and one of the Commander's servants poured her a glass of a dark liquid that tasted exactly like wine. She was getting treated like she was a very important guest, which was super confusing, but Lane wasn't going to complain about it.
Lane spent most of her day relaxing in her very large guest room. Now and then, a guard would peek in the room with suspicion, but they never bothered Lane very much. She tried her best to keep her mind away from what could be going on back in Arkadia. She pushed down the last image she had of Bellamy; the image of him lying unconscious on the floor because of her betrayal. She proved once again that her instinct to survive would always win.
But she was still standing; still breathing. She was the only one left from her time, and that was because of her tendency to pick survival over others.
A soft knock on the door pulled Lane out of her thoughts. Hagen opened the door and stepped into the room, "Heda is ready for you."
Lane stood from the bed. She didn't quite know what to expect from the Commander. Everyone in Arkadia had told Lane about how she was a terrible person who wasn't trustworthy, but she gave off a more calm and collected disposition to Lane. She had started thinking maybe the people of Arkadia's pure hatred for the grounders sometimes blocked their view of the big picture. They were stuck on the Earth together. They might as well learn to coexist instead of trying to kill each other off. What good would a rivalry do in the long run?
Lane followed Hagen to the throne room. The two of them walked in a comfortable silence down the hallway. He glanced at her over his shoulder, "You're different from them."
"Different from who?" She asked.
"Skaikru," he answered, his icy eyes hiding any emotion he may have had. They were eyes that had seen too many terrible things.
Lane shrugged, "Well, I'm not one of them. They sure made that obvious."
"Yes, but I'm not talking about that," he said. Both of them stopped in front of the door to the Throne Room. "Skaikru hides in their metal castle, pretending to be brave and pretending to want peace, but you... I can tell you've faced real demons, and you still show no fear."
Lane was speechless for a second. How could he tell what she's faced? Maybe because he's faced things just as awful. Maybe far more awful. Hagen didn't say another word. He pushed open the doors, leaving Lane standing in the hallway, still feeling like he had exposed her mind.
She shook away her confusion and stepped into the Throne Room. She saw a long table filled with all kinds of meats and fruits waiting for her. Candles were lit in the room, giving off a sweet aroma. Hagen stood at the head of the table where the Commander sat. The black face paint that had previously been under her eyes was gone. She didn't look like a Commander anymore. She just looked like a normal girl.
