"What do we do now?"
Kostia's words, first spoken to her lover alone, and repeated again and again and again by Leksa's advisors as each of them were brought into the room holding The ORACLE and filled in on what was happening, lingered in the air. Indra, Onya, and Titus had all been carefully and quietly instructed to present themselves as quickly as possible, and informed that the unconscious blonde stranger in the infirmary very well could be the long-awaited subject of prophecy.
"First and foremost, do we think Niylah knew about this?" Onya asked, arms folded and a small scowl on her face as she contemplated the situation, getting surprised looks from the others. It wasn't exactly the first thing that had come to their minds, after all, but then again Onya was Onya, and Onya did this sort of thing. In response to the looks, she rolled her eyes expressively and continued. "I'm not going to suggest we execute the girl, for the Maker's sake, but I think it's important if we know whether or not Niylah has some sort of deeper understanding on this matter, if only to keep this information private."
"Private? Why would we keep this private? The Skaiprisa has finally, arrived, just like Aleksia Pramheda said she would! This is something to be celebrated!" Titus protested, and as much as Leksa wanted to agree with him, she remembered all to well what Klark had said about her people and why she was here.
"I agree, Flamekeeper, but as much as I would like to reveal Klark to our people, there are several problems with that." Kostia responded before Leksa could, brow furrowed thoughtfully, shrugging when everyone's eyes turned to her. "First and foremost, she is still badly injured. Better to keep things quite until she has recovered. Secondly, from what she told Niylah, Leksa, and I as we cleaned her up, the place her people live in above the clouds is failing. The people are going to die, and when her father tried to warn them, he was killed. She herself tried to do the same, and was forced to volunteer to see if it was possible to survive here on the ground."
"Which means we're not going to be her priority for some time yet, not until her people are safe, and I don't imagine that any of us have an idea how to make that possible." Indra interjected, drumming her fingers on her arm in a display of agitation that never would have been shown in a more public setting. "It also means that her people are potentially a threat, to her and to us, if her father was murdered and she was cast out for trying to warn of an impending danger."
"Not to mention the fact that she's hardly capable of uniting the tribes and leading them as she is now. She was nearly killed fighting a pair of Maunon when she had all of the advantages. If we reveal her to the clans as she is now…well, I don't think people would be very fond of her when she proved unable to live up to all their expectations." Onya pointed out with characteristic blunt honesty, and there was a chorus of grimaces at that, because she was right. Meeting the high expectations of the tribes would already be hard enough for any girl, but Klark was…inexperienced and unprepared for life on the ground, it seemed.
"The timing could be better, with a Conclave just over the horizon. I can't disagree with the notion of waiting for that reason alone, never mind the rest of it." Indra responded, running a hand over her braided hair and tugging on the end of one lightly as she considered the situation. "It will do little harm to wait for her to recover and receive a bit more…education on certain matters before we do anything else. It's not as if the world will come to an end if we hold off on an announcement, and I'm hesitant to recommend anything but patience when we have so little information."
"I have to admit, I didn't expect to hear that the Skaiprisa's own people would murder her father and imprison her, that was an unpleasant surprise. And you're all quite right, it could complicate things, along with Klark's…inexperience. But if we aren't going to share this news with the people, what is our plan for when we reveal it? Because keeping this a secret could cause us problems down the road, especially if the only people who knew the truth and were around her were Trikru." Leksa finally spoke, and another round of grimaces circled the room, because all of them knew how that would look to the other clans. Leksa was one thing, as Heda she was technically clanless and neutral, even Kostia was acceptable due to her own relationship with Leksa, but Onya, Indra, perhaps even Niylah? No, it would look very poorly indeed to anyone that wasn't also Trikru.
"Ideally, we would bring people from the other clans into this, but I don't know who it would be. Ontari is the only other Chosen alive right now, and while I do not doubt her dedication to The Wisdoms or the Coalition, the fact remains that Nia is her adoptive mother and that she is the closest thing you have to a rival, Leksa." Kostia agreed, running a hand through her hair tiredly as she visibly tried to consider the situation, to think of names. "We just haven't had enough Conclaves since Sheidheda was deposed to refill the ranks, so who does that leave? The Senate? The Ambassadors? We could send word to the clan heads, of course, but what immediate good would any of that do us? Klark still wouldn't be ready to stand before any of them…"
"We could hold more Conclaves, but people would want to know why, and it would disrupt harvests and the economy as well, perhaps more than could be compensated for. This past winter wasn't a bad one, rather mild all things considered, but I hardly think it would be wise to gamble on that happening again." Indra mused, getting nods of agreement from the others. All of them were more than familiar with how wildly disparate the weather could be between years, even weather of the same season in the same geographical area.
"I think the best thing we can do is wait for Klark to heal, then confront her about the truth of her heritage. The ORACLE defined itself as the 'Organic Regenerative Atmospheric Cleansing Life Environment System', and while much of the Old World and it's technology escapes me, I know what all of those words mean individually. Putting it all together, I believe Klark will be able to use it to help stabilize the weather of this world, perhaps even stop things like rogue storms from happening entirely." Leksa theorized, having been mulling over the old device's name since she had first read it, with her adoptive mother's reference to the harvest and the weather spurring her into speech.
"If that's the case, it would certainly go a long way to making the people more fond of her, that's for certain." Titus spoke for the group, all of whom looked excited (to varying degrees, given certain individuals' propensity for stoicism) at the prospect of safer, more reliable, more predictable weather. Folding his hands behind his back, he sighed. "I have to agree, Heda, I think that some…gentle conversation while she recovers and some gentle interrogation when she is healthy would be a good place to start. Learn more about her and her past, her circumstances, before doing anything that could be considered…confrontational."
The delicate way that the man said the last word was almost amusing, and Leksa felt an entirely inappropriate quirk to her lips that had to be quickly smothered before it became too obvious. Still, she appreciated his support and his additional suggestions, which were both simple and sensible.
"I agree as well. Taking any sort of action without information would be unwise at best, and if we have her here recovering, we can also take the time to quietly help her become a bit more competent in a fight." Kostia added, glancing at Leksa as she spoke. "I think it would be best to bring Niylah in on this as well. She and Klark are friendly with one another, and she would provide good companionship to Klark when we're all busy with our duties. Besides, Niylah will offer…a different perspective on the situation than we might, and I think that would be a good thing as well."
Despite the way her lover had couched her words, Leksa understood exactly what Kostia was saying: the perspective Niylah could offer was that of a civilian, and one that was (while not on the lowest rung of the social ladder) far from the stratified heights of everyone present. Oh, none of them had been born to their current lofty positions, certainly, Leksa certainly hadn't been much of anyone at all, once upon a time, but that didn't change the facts. And the facts were, people of their rank and position were removed from the normal needs and wants and ways of thinking that an average person living in the city around them might have.
"You know her best, Kostia. If you think she can and should be informed, I'll trust your judgement on the matter. The rest of us will keep this quiet for now. No one outside of this room and Niylah are to be aware of Clarke's nature. Don't even discuss it with each other outside of this room or unless you've received my express permission." Leksa finally decreed, bows and murmurs of obedience immediately flowing from her advisors, and she gave them a gentle wave of farewell. "Back to your duties, all of you. Kostia and I will be in our suite if you need us."
There was a round of amused chuckles at that, not to mention a few knowing looks, and though she scowled, Leksa couldn't stop the faint blush from staining her cheeks either. She wasn't ashamed of her and Kostia's relationship, not by any stretch of the imagination, and she had fought more than a few people to prove it in the past. That did not, however, mean that she was particularly comfortable with how aware of it, and everything involved with it, her family actually was.
Besides, as much as she was looking forward to a little personal time with her love, and she was greatly looking forward to that, she wanted to get Kostia's unfiltered, genuine opinion on everything. The stuff that she wouldn't say in front of the others because she considered it too nebulous or controversial, the stuff that she trusted Leksa with not as Heda, but as her oldest friend and closest companion.
The trip through the palace to their rooms was quick and quiet, without conversation beyond polite greetings to those that they passed in the halls. There wasn't anything that could be said between them that wouldn't be better left for privacy, after all, and though it wouldn't have done anything of the sort, both felt as though idle conversation between themselves as they walked would somehow slow them down.
The moment the door clicked shut, the pair were in one another's arms, kissing with a heartfelt passion and relishing the familiar warmth of the embrace. There wasn't a desperation to their embrace, no evidence for a fear of loss. After all, this was hardly the most dangerous encounter Kostia had survived. No, it was nothing more or less than genuine love and desire and happiness at being together. Love and desire that would have wait to receive any sort of fulfillment, of course, duty before pleasure after all, but it was love and desire that remained all the same.
As breath ran short they separated, making their way over to the small sitting area beside the fireplace, Leksa stretching out on the long couch first with Kostia following, the scout giving a small, soft sigh and smile at the familiar comfort of Leksa's warmth wrapping around her from behind. A sigh that Kostia could hear and feel Leksa near-sileently return, the gust of breath tickling the crimson hair at the nape of her neck.
For several long, silent minutes they simply reveled in that warmth, that closeness, before Leksa finally sighed again (this time far more loudly) and Kostia resisted the urge to echo the sound, recognizing her lover intended to get down to business and have the conversation that had been pending since she had sent those letters.
"I need you to explain everything, Kos, and I'm sure I don't need to explain why. Anything that comes to mind, no matter how important you may or may not think it to be, no matter how minor or major. How you met, how she acted, odd comments, all of it." Her love finally said, and Kostia nodded before starting to speak.
She talked about how she had met Klark, admitting that she had found the girl to be incredibly beautiful at first sight, and learning that the stranger had been responsible for saving Niylah from a freak storm by hiding her away in a Old World bunker. She freely confessed to not only teasing Niylah, but also the genuine attraction and compliments she had used in reference to Klark in order to do so. Leksa could only respond to that by humming in agreement, quietly relieved to know that she wasn't the only one between the two of them that found Klark to be…pleasing to the eye.
She talked about Klark's interest in the fallen sky-metal, her knowledge of the Maunon's approach thanks to her tek, her inability to climb trees or move quietly. About the building suspicion that Klark was clearly more than just a wandering pilgrim from a distant tribe, with her strange words and stranger behaviors. How she seem knowledgeable in somethings, and almost childishly incompetent in others. Oh, it all made sense now that she knew Klark had been in that piece of sky-metal, had left her home above the sky not a day before they had met. Of course she had no idea what she was doing, of course she had been so strange despite being the best 'Earth Skills' student, a thought that made both of the Trikru laugh softly, for if she was the very best the sky had to offer, they could only imagine what her classmates were like.
She talked about Clarke ambushing one man with moderate success, then being spotted during the second just before she could attack the next. How she had killed the second man, despite being shot twice, before seemingly losing herself and simply hacking away at him until Kostia had pulled her away. Neither of the Trikru held such a thing against the girl, of course. Not only was she injured and desperately trying to survive, she was probably terrified. No matter how well-trained a warrior was, their first life-or-death battle was always hard on them.
She talked about how desperate Klark had been to burn the 'pod', to make sure that the Maunon couldn't get anything useful from it. How she had found several strands of blonde hair inside, the same shade as Klark's, and had started to wonder and hope and fear. How she had destroyed the Maunon vehicle and immolated the inside of the sky-metal, not understanding exactly why Klark was so desperate to keep the Maunon from being able to search the interior, but unwilling to leave it to chance.
She talked about how she had carried Klark to safety, putting one step ahead of the other until finally, finally she had caught up to Niylah and Mist. How Niylah had convinced her not to go to the trading post, but instead to Klark's secret Old World bunker, an action she and Leksa were both fervently glad for, since it had doubtlessly saved their lives when the Maunon had attacked the trading post.
How Klark had opened a storage room of Old World medicine and used some to seal her injuries, before giving she and Niylah each two of the same canisters that had basically rendered a pair of through-and-through bullet wounds irrelevant for the better part of an entire day. Again, she confessed how her eyes had lingered on Klark, enjoying every bare inch of skin and thinking rather positively of she and Leksa being the girl's lovers, if Klark was in fact who they thought she was.
Finally, she talked about how they had set off for Polis, after Klark had loaded Mist down with all kinds of Old World treasure to rebuild Niylah's fortunes, offering the tradeswoman and Kostia anything that they desired from the bunker. How Kostia had quietly pocketed the 'Focus' she had given to Leksa, realizing it was probably the solution to many of their problems with the relics left behind by Aleksia Pramheda.
"You were gone for so brief a time, and yet so much has happened." Leksa mused when Kostia finally fell silent, pressing a gentle kiss to the nape of her neck, sounding amazed and confused and hopeful all at once, a sentiment Kostia can fully understand. She can hardly believe how little time has passed, and in that brief time it feels like her entire life had changed. Not upended, no, not yet at least, but she sensed that on the horizon. A looming, hovering sword that teetered on the edge of falling down at her. Whether it would land in her hands or on her neck, she wasn't sure, but she was determined to make sure it wouldn't fall on Leksa no matter what happened.
"Enough about Klark, for now. She's healing and sleeping, and I'm in your arms again." She said firmly, turning as best she could in her love's arms to press a kiss to Leksa's lips. When they parted, she smiled in the way she knew Leksa loved best, her voice taking on just the right tone. "Come, domina, your beautiful thrallina has missed you as she wandered the roads and forests. Why don't you make her feel at home again, hmm?"
Leksa didn't need much in the way of encouragement to do exactly that, rolling out of the bed and swinging a giggling and wriggling Kostia up onto her shoulder as she headed for a door against the far wall, which swung open to reveal a room of racks, of chains, of posts and wood and leather. A room where they were not Heda and Scout, not leader and follower, not ruler and servant. Just Leksa and Kostia, domina and thrallina.
Nothing more or less than lovers together.
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The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, in many ways the solemn, beating heart of Arlington National Cemetary, had always been a quiet place. Even before the Last War had begun, even when hundreds or thousands of visitors had flocked their daily to watch the solemn march of the sentinels and the famed Changing of the Guard, it had been quiet. A quiet enforced by tradition, by respect, and by the firm, uncompromising demands of the guards.
Now, the once-pristine and gleaming stone of the Tomb was marred by a century of insufficient care, scorched and stained by the soot of a nuclear war that no man or woman could ever hope to wash out, no matter how hard they tried. Now, the magnificent, orderly rows of white crosses that had once stood proud on immaculately manicured and lush green grass were lost, shattered and broken and burned, what was left of them hidden in the undergrowth.
But the Tomb was not merely a relic of a bygone age, a silent monument to a land and a nation a century gone. It was not a mournful reminder of the countless lives lost over a number of wars, and the space beneath it nothing more than a series of rooms and corridors. No, it was a fortress now, the home of my most mysterious and private of the clans that lived in the lands of The Coalition, a clan that had only once in a hundred years had involved themselves in the affairs of the Coalition at large, and rarely (if ever) left their lands: The Sentinels.
A mystery to all, to such a degree that many in the farther-flung reaches of the Coalition's lands didn't entirely believe that they actually existed, and even those that knew for a fact that they did had never met, or even seen, a member of their clan. A mystery that had only deepened when they had emerged from their territory to, and it was no exaggeration to claim as such, cause the overthrow of Sheidheda in a rather swift and bloody coup, providing information that they shouldn't possibly have been able to know. It should have been impossible for them to know what they did, but they had, and all that they had said was born out quite clearly by events and evidence recovered after the fact. Afterwards, they had vanished again, refusing any offer to help rebuild the Coalition or be rewarded for their efforts, leaving the mystery to grow once again as they remained silent and still.
Until today.
"So, she's finally arrived." The voice of a woman sighed in the deepest depths of the undercroft. The speaker was of middling years, worn down by time but upright and hazel eyes bright, her long brown hair shot through with lines of silver and crow's feet gathering at the corners of her eyes. "The wait is over at last, thank God."
The room she was sitting in had once been an office, the office of the Commander of the Guard, and in fairness it still greatly resembled one. Much of the furniture was even the same, in the same places it had been for over a century. The only real differences were the addition of a bed and the other accoutrements to turn it into a genuine living space.
And the projector laying on top of the desk's smooth, age-worn surface, which even now was active.
"Yes, the wait is over. Lexa now has the equipment she needs to operate more of Polis' systems, and ORACLE positively identified Clarke by name. There's no hiding it now." The small, glowing form of a beautiful, middle-aged woman wearing a crimson evening gown, nodded in agreement, posting one hand on her hip. "This hasn't gone the way I had planned. She was supposed to stay under the radar until the last possible moment, and instead they've discovered her almost immediately."
"ALIE, if you wanted her to stay undetected, you should have dropped her in the wastes with the Nomads." The flesh-and-blood woman pointed out, and the hologram huffed softly in irritation.
"Don't be ridiculous, Kassie. If she had ended up with the Nomads, the only thing she would have decided to do with the Coalition is try and overthrow it. She's young and idealistic, inexperienced with the way the world works outside of the Ark. Nuance would have escaped her entirely." ALIE sighed, waving a hand in what could only be called a shooing-away motion.
"Or it would have been the catalyst to reunite those that escaped the worst of the war with those that suffer the most from it." Kassie retorted, getting a grimace from her conversation partner, ALIE folding her arms and giving a nod that was manifestly reluctant.
"It's certainly possible, but it would have been a big gamble, one that could have brought disaster if it hadn't panned out. Not to mention the fact that you wouldn't have been able to help her if things went wrong. She would have been alone and without support." She allowed, in the loosest possible sense of the word, and looked pretty damn begrudging while she was at it. "While the situation now is less than ideal, at least you're able to intervene if needed. Though, let me stress that I don't think it will be needed. Lexa is a true believer."
"We are all true believers, ALIE. The difference is, Lexa romanticizes it, and that is a double-edged sword." Kassie sighed, her words earning another, less-begrudging nod. Drumming her fingers on the table, she visibly contemplated the situation in silence for several long minutes. "We'll stay out of it for now, let her grow more comfortable with being on the homeworld and away from the Arkers. Keep an eye on her and her new house-mates, would you, and keep me appraised? This is turning into a situation that we will have to play by ear, as much as the two of us might hate that fact."
"A century of planning, and one man being more aware of his surroundings than any number of his comrades throws it all into chaos." ALIE groaned in agreement before the projector flickered off, leaving Kassie sitting alone at her desk, gazing into the distance with eyes that were neither vacant nor present, but seeing something. The past, the future, all that had happened and all that might.
Running a hand through her hair, she glanced at the tall, slender object resting in the corner beside her bed for a long, lingering moment before tearing her eyes away almost violently and getting to her feet. She had her people to brief and preparations to make, contingencies to plan for and disasters to anticipate. She didn't have time for anything else, no matter how much time she actually had.
There was never enough time.