Red Is The Colour

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Lexa POV

After I punched Luna, she apparently had a change of heart. Her brother and the other boy haven't picked on her since – in fact, they almost seem scared of her. In training, she's ramped up her speed and efficiency, and has managed to floor most of the other Nightbloods in record time. She doesn't complain about the violence anymore, and no one dares to step up to her. Her inner rage is almost blindingly powerful, and she battles with all the viciousness of a killer. The Nightbloods leave her alone.

Except me, of course.

The Commander is very impressed with her, and as much as I hate to admit it... so am I. She made it from one of the bottom novitiates to one of the top in the space of only a few weeks. Whatever I did to convince her, it worked. And while she was extremely angry at me for hitting her, I get a sense that she now has a great deal of respect for me. We have an unspoken deal that it's us against all the other Nightbloods.

We work together perfectly.

I'm not favored by the Commander, but Titus has proven that he's on my side. My belligerence and devotion in all of his sessions has impressed him – he's fond of my strategy and tactics, and especially of my dedication to the cause. If the Flame chooses me, I'll innovate. That's my plan. And that's what Titus wants, too.

When I'm jarred awake today to the sound of the horns, I realize that my plan may come into effect much sooner than expected. There's no victory to be sounding in the city of Polis, so I can only suspect that it has something to do with the Commander's death.

The war against Azgeda has come to fruition: they killed Heda. 

For days as this war has been going on, I've been waiting for this sad, keening sound. The Commander's death is expected, especially considering he was only allied with Trikru and had other clans after him as well. Over the past ten days, Titus has been properly preparing us to fight to the death.

Tomorrow, the Conclave will start.

I sit up straight in my bunk, heart pounding rapidly in my chest, and listen to the sound of the horns as they continue to sound all over Polis. It's finally time to kill or be killed. 

All the other Nightbloods have climbed out of their bunks, clustering by the window and mumbling with anticipation and fear. Soon Titus will come to collect us, and it will be time for the Purification Ritual. 

Just two of us remain in our beds. 

For a second, I can do nothing but meet Luna's eyes across the dark room, seeing an exact reflection of my own fear in them. Maybe she doesn't like to fight, but she'll have to. And she'll have to fight me.

Whatever alliance we have no longer exists – from now on, Luna is nothing more than a corpse on a bloody battlefield. And I'm not going to stop fighting until I have her black blood on the blade of my sword.

Victory stands upon the back of sacrifice. That's what Titus always says.

And I'm willing to make all the sacrifices in the world.

---

The room is in daylight when I next surface from my sleep. I blink groggily, still feeling the dull throb of pain at the nape of my neck. It's a very small room, the walls built from wood and scraps of salvaged metal. Surgical instruments and medicine litter every surface. 

This is not the same clinic that I remember from my childhood.

Wyn is lying on a bed across from mine, fast asleep. Now I can see her face, I realize how long it's been since I've visited her; she's incredibly old and wrinkled, wearing ragged clothes. And much skinnier than I remember, too. All this time, and I hadn't even considered if she was still alive in Polis.

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