Ashes of the FutureChapter 5 – The Weight of Words
The torch-lit hall smelled of smoke, leather, and old wood. Kira walked behind Lexa's guards, her boots silent on the stone floor. Clarke and Bellamy were at her flanks, silent and tense. Every step into the heart of the Grounder capital felt like an echo of history Kira had only watched from afar—a story she now walked inside.
Polis was more impressive up close. Towering buildings reclaimed by nature and time, marked with tribal runes and banners of dark fabric. Grounders watched them with curiosity and quiet judgment. Some held weapons. Others held memories of war.
Lexa walked ahead, her stride calm, gaze unreadable. Her presence commanded the space. Kira recognized the balance of strength and grace—a warrior tempered by philosophy.
Once inside the central chamber, Lexa turned.
"You will speak now," she said.
Kira stepped forward. She didn't bow this time. Instead, she met Lexa's gaze head-on. "You asked why you should spare us. I have a better question. Why waste warriors on a war you don't need?"
The advisors flanking Lexa stirred. One stepped forward—a broad-shouldered man with scars down his face. "Because they trespass. They kill trees. Hunt without offering. They are not of the blood."
Kira kept her tone even. "Then teach us. But don't burn the forest to kill the fire. We're not a threat. Not unless you make us one."
Lexa raised a hand, silencing her advisor. "You speak with conviction. But words are wind."
Kira inclined her head. "Then test me again. Not with blades. With purpose."
Lexa studied her for a moment. "You offer yourself as a bridge."
"Yes."
"And if that bridge collapses?"
"Then I break with it. Alone."
Lexa nodded slowly. "You will stay in Polis. For now. We will see if your loyalty outweighs your arrogance."
Bellamy hissed under his breath. Clarke grabbed his arm to keep him quiet.
Kira just nodded. "As long as my people live."
That night, they were given a small room high in one of the towers. Spartan, but not prison-like. There was even a wash basin and clean blankets.
Clarke sat on the edge of the cot, rubbing her temples. "That could have gone worse."
Bellamy paced. "They want to use her."
Kira leaned against the window, watching the city lights. "I'm fine being used if it gets us peace."
"And what if they turn on you?"
"Then I fight. That's what I do."
Clarke looked up. "What are you really doing here, Kira?"
Kira didn't answer immediately. Instead, she opened her inventory and pulled out a thin metal flask, tossing it to Clarke.
"Because I know how this ends. Unless we change the story."
Clarke blinked. "What does that mean?"
Kira smiled, just a little. "It means I'm not ready to bury any more friends."
The days in Polis passed with slow tension. Kira spent her mornings watching Grounder warriors train in the courtyards below. Their style was brutal, precise—different from her own, but not unfamiliar.
By day three, she was invited to spar.
The crowd gathered as she stepped into the sand-filled circle. Her opponent was a tall woman with long braids and a twin-bladed fighting style. Skilled. Confident.
Lexa watched from above, expression neutral.
They fought.
Kira danced between the blades, reading the rhythm, adapting. She moved like a whisper, low and coiled, using the woman's strength against her. Her elbow found a rib. A foot swept a leg. The fight ended with Kira kneeling on her opponent's back, blade at her throat.
Gasps.
Kira rose and helped the woman up. No gloating. Just mutual respect.
Later, Lexa found her in the training yard, alone.
"You held back," Lexa said.
"She wasn't the enemy."
"You could have killed her."
Kira met her eyes. "That's not strength. That's fear."
A pause.
Lexa stepped closer. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"
"Before I ever heard of the sky."
Lexa tilted her head. "You speak in riddles."
Kira grinned. "Maybe I just like keeping you curious."
That earned the faintest curve of Lexa's lips.
The Grounder council remained divided. Some wanted blood. Others saw advantage in Kira's strength and Clarke's diplomacy. Lexa played her cards close to the chest.
On the seventh night, during a small gathering meant to honor fallen warriors, Lexa approached Kira with two clay cups.
"Drink with me."
They sat by the fire. Smoke drifted between them.
"You don't trust easily," Lexa said.
"Neither do you."
"Then we have that in common."
Kira swirled the cup, watching the liquid catch firelight. "We have more in common than you think."
Lexa looked at her. "And what is it you want, Kira of the sky?"
Kira's voice was soft, but steady. "To build something that doesn't break. Something worth bleeding for."
Lexa studied her, long and quiet. The silence stretched, but not uncomfortably.
Then Lexa set her cup down.
"Come."
She led Kira through narrow hallways until they reached a balcony that overlooked Polis. The stars stretched forever above.
"Do you believe in fate?" Lexa asked.
"Not anymore."
"Then why try so hard?"
Kira turned toward her. "Because this time, maybe we don't have to lose everything."
Lexa looked at her, the walls in her eyes beginning to crack.
Neither said anything more. But when Lexa finally turned away, Kira saw it.
The first seed of trust.
End of Chapter 5
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