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RED AS THE DAWN
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RED AS THE DAWN, the streets are drenched with rivers of blood.
Lyra stumbles across the crumbling cobblestone. She does not dare yet abandon the safety of the cool shadows that hang overhead of the chiseled entrance at the base of the tower that claws at the insipid morning sky. Her hope had struggled to persevere the hundreds-of-feet descent from the throne room. Pale sunlight slices down over the ruinous city. All Lyra can see is the endless red that stretches out and mutilates the city. All she can hear is the scorching screams as survivors crawl amongst the damned city. A man is on his knees. He cries out with incendiary anguish. In his arms is the broken and battered body of girl no older than six.
She must be his daughter. She looks like a mutilated doll in his arms. Her limbs are contorted inhumanly.
Stories have no beginning, Lyra reminds herself as her heart clenches. The City of Light was not the start of something doomed. There is a culminations of prologues, epigraphs, and footnotes explaining different events throughout time. They assess everything that happens because, in the end, everything tends to connect more than you realize.
Stories have no beginning. Lyra did not start the City of Light, she did not start the second apocalypse.
Millions of possibilities have spiraled and some have solidified into solid form. That is what has given us the story thus far ━━ ninety-seven years ago, Becca Pramheda accidentally created a murder bot. Alie survived the earth's downfall alongside Grounders with black blood running through their veins. She bit her tongue and bid her time until one day, Thelonious Jaha, distraught after his son's brutal death, was determined to find answers. He set out across a desert to find purpose and he took John Murphy with him. Murphy who was trapped in a bunker for eighty-six days while Jaha became Alie's most trusted ally. And thus he came back to Arkadia with a new goal in mind.
You know where the story goes from there.
Stories have no beginning. This is not Lyra's doing
"Look alive, star-girl."
The girl's reverie is shattered by her dad's gentle voice. Her eyes snap up from the blood and the bodies and the death; the air stinks of freshly slaughtered flesh and overwhelming copper.
He takes one look at her face and seems to know exactly what she's thinking. "This isn't your fault, kiddo. It's no one's."
"I know," Lyra mumbles. "But —
"But it feels like it?" Noah guesses. She nods. He gives a long suffering sigh. There is a crease between his brow as his mundane blue eyes drift over their destruction. "Feelings suck. Trust me on this one. I mean, I still feel pretty shitty for telling you that I was gonna kill myself and it would be your fault."
Lyra snorts. "I told you to take the chip, though."
"To save my life," he responds. "Don't beat yourself up, going through everything that's happened. You'll drive yourself crazy. Besides, I'm the dad. I'm supposed to be the one protecting you."
"You had a gun to your head," Lyra reminds him. "I'll never just sit there and watch you die — "
"I mean it," he says, cutting her off. "No child should have to see that. Or any of this, for that matter. I mean, if you really want to get into the nitty gritty details, you can blame me. I was the alcoholic absent father that screwed you over. Maybe you wouldn't have been in the Skybox if not for me. Then you wouldn't have been one of the One-Hundred. Wouldn't have had to see the things you've seen, do the things you've done — "
"Dad," Lyra interrupts again, louder this time. He goes quiet. She gives him a sad smile. "It's OK. I'm old enough to understand."
"You shouldn't have to be," he says weakly. "You're just seventeen."
Swallowing thickly, she glances away from Noah and back out at the city of the dead. Looking at his pained expression is too much. It's a stark difference from the City of Light, though she supposes reality always is a stark difference from dreams. Bellamy and Clarke speak together a few dozen feet away from them and Lyra can see the burden of knowing weighing down heavily upon Bellamy's shoulders ━━ before they'd left the tower, she'd told him about what was coming.
Her gaze drifts reluctantly back to her dad. She hasn't told him yet. She doesn't know how.
"I need the radio," she says abruptly.
"Checking up on Raven and Jasper?" Noah seems glad for the distraction and hands her his walkie. "Good idea."
It's not to check up on Raven and Jasper. It's to get into contact with Raven so that they can figure out a plan to stop the end of the world. Raven's got to get Arkadia's mainframe online and maybe then she and Lyra can come up with. . . come up with something. Something to keep them all from dying in six months from radiation.
But Lyra doesn't know how to say this, either, so she just nods tightly. "Yeah."
"Raven?" Lyra raises the small black box to her mouth. "Raven, Monty, Nate. Come in. This is Lyra, calling in from Polis. Does anybody copy?"
Static buzzes. There is no answer.
"Damn it. The antenna's jacked up." Lyra curses under her breath. Her finger scrabble over the slide switch as she tries to remove the trim capacitance. The coil 4 turns is all screwed up and she'll have to rewind them. Her fingernails are caked with blood and they shake violently. She can feel herself starting to break. "Stupid, stupid, stupid — "
"Hey — hey!" Noah grabs her roughly by the shoulders. He forces herself to look up at him, staring at her in utmost bewilderment. "It's OK. It's not that big of a deal."
But it is. Lyra needs to get into contact with Raven so that they can figure something out ━━
Suddenly, the low murmurs amongst the survivors turn poisonous. There is a scuffling noise near the center of the street and a quiet rumble as a single phrase echoes; "Wanheda! Wanheda! Wanheda!"
Forgetting all about the radio, Lyra sprints forwards. Bellamy and Clarke have been encircled by about a dozen Grounders, but now they're pushing their way through them. There is a sharp gash across Bellamy's upper jaw and Lyra wonders if she'll have time to clean it for him. It looks painful. Her and Noah aren't the only two who'd approached the commotion ━━ Abby and Kane must have descended from the tower earlier as well because now they approach together, both looking worse for wear.
"Good. You're down," says Clarke curtly as the six come together. "We have to go. The rover's in the north woods."
"What about the radio?" Bellamy asks Lyra anxiously. "You get into contact with Arkadia yet?"
"Static," answers Lyra, fiddling with the dial. "Long rage communication's all jacked up again. But Raven must've noticed by now. She'll strengthen the signal."
"What about the wounded?" Abby questions.
"The Grounders don't want our help," Bellamy says curtly. "Our people we treat at Arkadia."
Lyra nods. That's good enough for her.
"Hello?" The radio in her palm suddenly buzzes and Raven's familiar voice cuts through the static. "Lyra, it's Raven, I copy. Please. Come in."
Turning on her heel and striding towards a deserted corner within the city ruins, Lyra answers. "Raven. Are you OK? Is everyone still alive?"
"Yeah, yeah. We're all in one piece."
Lyra's shoulders slump in relief. Bellamy and Clarke have followed her, and Bellamy gently takes the radio from her hands to speak to Raven. "Good. There's something we need you to look into."
"First tell me how my friends are," responds Raven. "Did everyone make it? Clarke?"
"I'm here," Clarke says briskly. "Thanks to you."
"Raven," begins Lyra slowly, hesitantly. "Did Alie ever tell you why she created the City of Light."
"No." The frown in Raven's voice is audible. "Why?"
"En's kiken!" The throaty shout of a Grounder suddenly breaks through the sticky air. "Osir gaf fisa in!"
The King! He's alive! We need a healer!
"Go, fill Raven in!" Clarke orders Lyra, thrusting the walkie back into her blood-caked fingers. She rounds upon her mother urgently. "They need a doctor!"
The words aren't even fully out of Clarke's mouth as she takes off at a run in the direction of the shout. Abby is close behind her, med-kit in hand. Kane is hot on her heels. Noah looks aggravated for a moment, as if torn between staying behind with Lyra and going after them.
"Go," says Lyra. "I'm OK."
He nods tensely, then leaves.
"Lyra," comes Raven's voice again. "What's going on?"
Lyra's mind is racing. Her nails carve stinging half-moons into the scarred skin of her palms. She can feel her leg starting to bounce with restlessness as she rakes through her head and everything she's ever had filed under Radiation. In the old world, before the bombs, to be more specific.
"Kashiwazaki-Kariwa in Japan," she begins to ramble. "Shin Kori, South Korea. Yangjiang, China. Hanul, South Korea. Zaporizhizhia, Ukraine."
"Lyra!" Bellamy grabs her by the shoulder and forces her to stand still. "It sounds like you're trying to cast spells. Slow down. Take a deep breath."
"Those were the biggest nuclear power plants in the old world, before the bombs," Lyra explains to him shortly. "Raven, you need to start looking them up in Arkadia's mainframe."
"Why?"
She takes a deep breath. "In 2048, there was a second disaster in Fukushima. It was bad. Like, really bad. After that, power plants were built to withstand any disaster, even nuclear attacks. And they were built to be self-sustaining."
"That's a good thing, isn't it?" Bellamy asks.
She winces. "They were built to be self sustaining for one hundred years. We've reached the expiration date."
There's a tense beat. And then Raven says, quietly, "You mean nuclear reactors are melting down?"
"That's what Alie says."
"I'm looking into it," announces Raven grimly. "And we believe Alie?"
"We do," says Bellamy firmly.
Lyra feels a flash of gratitude. Earlier he'd been reluctant to believe anything the AI had said, but Lyra had been adamant that the AI was telling the truth. Somehow things feel a bit more bearable, knowing that Bellamy's on her side.
Lyra pockets the walkie; it'll take Raven a while to find answers. She glances up at Bellamy and sees the way he's trying his best not to frown. She knows at once who he is thinking of ━━ his little sister and Lyra's friend, Octavia. The girl who they'd both watched murder the former Chancellor in cold blood just minutes ago.
"She won't be charged," Lyra tells him. "Everyone knows Pike deserved it."
His face is pained. "Maybe he's not the only one."
His expression, a mixture of anxiety and guilt, makes her heart ache. She knows what this is about. The slaughter of the peace-keeping army seemed to have hit him all at once after he spent so long trying to deny that he'd done anything wrong at all. It seems to be getting harder and harder to talk him down, to convince him that his heart had been in the right place. Even now he coils a hand through his unruly hair, a bead of sweat trickling down the back of his neck, and his shoulders slump even further. As if something terrible weighs down upon him.
Bellamy's guilt is getting worse.
She shoves away her own fears. "You don't, Bellamy. You kept me alive while I was in the City of Light. You saved me from Alie. You saved everyone."
"Yeah." He closes his eyes and lets out a breath. Then he gives her a dry smile. "Wouldn't mind a break from keeping you alive."
She hums. "Thanks for that, by the way."
The sudden and all too familiar sound of her dad shouting aggressively causes Lyra to suddenly take off towards him. Bellamy makes a very disgruntled noise from somewhere behind her and just barely manages to latch onto her wrist as she runs through the streets.
Bellamy huffs loudly. "Well, you don't make it easy!"
A Grounder's sharp command greets her first. "Lid haihefa-de gon bangeda seintaim kom ostof kom oso stedaun! Dula'm op nau!"
Take the king to the embassy with the rest of our dead. Do it now!
It's Echo.
King Roan's slumped body is in the arms of two mountainous warriors that Lyra is sure is Azgeda, even though their faces are hidden by charred skull masks. About two dozen warriors fan out behind Echo as she faces off with Clarke, Kane, Abby, and Noah, her expression drawn fiercely, making her look like the head of a pack of wolves. There is no time to even think about what's happening with Roan, even though Lyra had been certain he was dead just a few hours ago.
Noah is shielding Clarke from Echo and there must have been a disagreement of sorts, because he glares at her with intense dislike. "Go float yourself."
"Dad!" Lyra cries out. She manages to wrestle her hand from Bellamy's tight grip, pushing forwards.
It's the wrong move. As soon as Echo's eyes land upon her, her full lips pull into a wicked smirk. She moves fast as a bullet. Before anyone can do anything, Echo has lunged forwards and thrown an arm across Lyra's neck, yanking her backwards by her ponytail. It takes every ounce of Lyra's willpower to keep from crying out again in fear as Echo's sword hovers just inches above her face.
Noah pales. "OK. I take it back now."
"Echo!" Bellamy shouts furiously, shoving his way through the crowd. Kane grabs him roughly by the arm just before he can lunge forwards, and Bellamy's enraged scowl deepens. "Let her go, Echo!"
Lyra struggles for air around the blade. "Don't!"
"Back off, Bellamy," sneers Echo.
"Your King is my friend," Clarke says lowly. She takes a timid step closer, her eyebrows drawn in concern. "Let us help him."
Echo ignores her and instead leans close enough to Lyra that her breath is fanning the back of Lyra's neck.
"You saved me from the reaping," sneers the lethal warrior. "And I saw you in the City of Light. I know you helped destroy it. Thank you for doing the right thing."
Echo throws her forwards roughly. Lyra staggers and nearly falls, only for Bellamy to help her stay upright.
"Look around you!" Echo raises her voice so that it echoes in the street as dozens of armed Grounders watch in morbid fascination. "Skaikru did this to us. Because of them, Ontari, your rightful Commander is dead! This imposter stole her Flame!"
"No!" Noah defends Clarke loudly. "Wanheda saved us, all of us! Grounder and Skaikru!"
"There would have been nothing to save us from if not for you," retorts Echo.
Ever the diplomat, Kane steps forward. Lyra doesn't miss the way he grazes Noah's shoulder, either in warning or to brace him. "Azgeda has no authority here."
"We do now," Echo announces. "In the name of King Roan, as rightful caretakers of the throne of the Commanders, Polis is now under Azgeda rule!"
"That's not great," decides Lyra under her breath.
Distracted, Bellamy manages to cut her a Yeah, no shit look.
"Like hell it is!" A woman practically buried under enormous furs stalks out into the center to square off with Echo. Across her face are thick markings that Lyra is, like, 95% sure makes her Boudalankru, or, in English, Rock Line. "Where's your war chief, girl?"
"Our war chief is dead, Ambassador," says Echo, not seeming the slightest bit intimidated by the woman's scathing tone. "As a member of the Queen's guard, command of the army has fallen to me until the queen awakens."
"Also not great," Lyra announces, mostly to herself and Bellamy.
"If he awakens," retorts the Boudalankru ambassador shrewdly. "Until a new Commander can ascend, Polis is to be ruled by ambassadors of the Coalition. If Azgeda wants it, they must take it by force!"
That doesn't seem to bother Echo.
In one swift, fluid motion, she slices her sword clean through the woman's throat. Startled gasps ripple through the crowd.
"Consider it taken," says Echo coolly. She thrusts her sword into the air. "No Skaikru leaves this city! GON AZGEDA!"
This seems to be a rallying battle cry because the dozens of other Azgeda warriors thrust their swords into the air, following in suit. Their roars bleed together as they repeat the chant.
"Looks like saving the world will have to wait," says Bellamy darkly.
Painfully aware that the dead ambassador easily could have been her, Lyra makes a face. "Very not great."
͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
TORCHLIGHT FLICKERS ERRATICALLY within the shadowy temple. The air is thick with the scents of oils, wax, and incense as Skaikru survivors are hurried through beneath the watchful eyes of Lyra, Clarke, Abby, Kane, and Noah. It feels almost sacrilegious to be trespassing on such sacred Grounder ground now, when they are the most hated people on the planet, but Lyra knows that they have no other choice. It also makes her feel queasy being here, remembering the last time she was, when she was chipped. When she and Emori had been chained and fought to keep the unlikely trio of Murphy, Pike, and Indra from destroying the backpack.
She tries to push those memories away. Being chipped was frightening. Looking back on it is like watching a yourself in a movie. Except the movie is just you doing the absolute worst things you can think of.
She'd had no control at all, even if she hadn't realised it at the time. And she doesn't want to feel that way again.
She doesn't want to feel that way ever again.
"Sir, that's everyone we could find." Costa's deep voice announces and Lyra's eyes snap up to see the fairly unscathed guard striding down the steps with a rifle in hand. "I've stationed the guards at the temple door. Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"
"Sure, I'm sure," mutters Noah. He looks stressed. "Get out of here while you still can, Costa."
Kane gives Costa a tight-lipped smile. "You lead them home, Major."
"Wait," says Lyra abruptly as Costa marches out of the chiselled entrance and somewhere into the distant daylight. "John and Emori. I haven't see them."
Abby's brow furrows. "John and who?"
"Emori. A Grounder girl," Lyra explains quickly. "John's one of us and he's screwed if they find him. Emori's Sangedakru, but she's also a freikdreina. Her kind are forbidden here. She won't last the night — "
"We worry about ourselves first," cuts in Kane gently. "We might not last the night either."
Lyra nods jerkily, but her heart still clenches. She hasn't spoken to Emori since the City of Light and she wants to make sure she's OK. They'd never spoken outside of the City of Light, of course, but Lyra feels as if an unspoken bond had formed there between them. Emori had been cast out by her own people and that's what led her to John Murphy. Lyra thinks they make a good pair.
The sound of rusted metal creaking open draws her attention and she turns to the pair of crumbling iron doors at the far end of the temple. Daylight spills inside as Indra marches through, armour glittering, with Octavia and Bellamy close behind. Lyra barely hides her relief.
Indra approaches Kane rigidly. He seems almost frightened, as if expecting her to lash out at him. Lyra thinks she might vaguely remember something about him crucifying her to a cross and leaving her to bleed out while he had been chipped. But Indra does not strike him at all. Instead she wraps him in a very tight and very short embrace.
"So?" Lyra asks them hesitantly.
"You're not gonna like it," Bellamy warns her.
"When Clarke destroyed the City of Light, there were a thousand Azgeda warriors inside the City of Polis," announces Indra lowly.
"Good timing," remarks Octavia dryly.
Indra continues. "The only way to remove them is by force."
"Then let's remove them," says Octavia stonily.
Lyra's eyes widen. Octavia had always been eager to fight, but this is different now. Since when does she go looking for blood?
"Slow down," Abby orders in some disbelief. "You're talking about a war."
"Yes," says Indra unabashedly. "Rock Line, Flokru, and Broadleaf will join Trikru without question. We'll still be short."
"This is madness," Abby says. "We should be leaving with the others, while we still have time."
"I agree," Lyra speaks up, earning knowing looks from both Bellamy and Clarke. She picks at her nails again. "We can't fight a war. There's no time."
"Why not?" Octavia retorts.
"They know where we live," Kane interrupts just as hurt flashes across Lyra's face. "If we run, they'll follow. There are eight other clans. How do we get them to join us?"
"I can do it," Indra says steadily. "But I'll need the Flame."
"No," says Clarke at once.
In the palm of her hands sits the Flame, but now she curls her fingers over it protectively. Lyra can feel her heart crack a little bit for her. She finally understands why Clarke is so protective of the Flame ━━ a piece of Lexa is inside of it and Clarke is entirely unwilling to let go of the girl she loved.
"Clarke, the clans will follow whoever has the Flame," Bellamy tells her.
"Azgeda won't," Lyra says sharply. Now that she knows why Clarke is keeping the Flame, she won't let her give it up.
"Then we fight," Octavia says. "That's the point."
"No, it's not," Clarke says lowly. "The point is, there's no time for a fight. Lyra was right. We have to save Roan."
"Save him?" Octavia stares at her. "They won't let us near him!"
"Hang on," says Noah, effectively drawing everyone's attention. His steely blue eyes flicker between Clarke and Lyra suspiciously. "Care to share the secret you're keeping with the rest of the class?"
Lyra and Clarke exchange a look.
Clarke answers first. "Alie created the City of Light for a reason."
Kane looks distraught. "Why?"
Lyra glances hesitantly at Bellamy. He'd originally been the one to want to keep things quiet. But now his mouth presses into a thin, worried line. He gives her a jerky nod.
"Nuclear reactors inside power plants that survived the bombs are melting down," says Lyra after she manages to find her voice. "There are more than a dozen at risk plants around the world and seven are burning now. Radiation levels are already rising. If we can't come up with something, we'll all be dead in six months."
"Alie told you this?" Noah questions sharply.
Clarke dips her head. "Yes."
Abby's voice climbs several octaves. "And you believe her?"
"Raven's looking into it," Bellamy responds.
"I believe her," says Clarke.
"Alie wasn't programmed to lie," Lyra adds sullenly. "She was telling the truth."
"Even if she was, that's six months away," Indra reminds them all. "There are a thousand Ice Nation warriors on the street who want to kill us today."
Clarke doesn't look the least bit frightened. "They won't kill us."
Octavia whips her head around to stare at her. "How could you possibly know that?"
"Because we're gonna surrender."
͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
welcome to season 4 everyone! any predictions for where Lyra's gonna be during the death wave???
Lyra trying to be happy even tho praimfaya is coming:
3.9k words