~two thousand two hundred days since praimfaya~
Ever since my day in the fighting pit, where I barely came out with my life four years ago, Callan has been teaching me how to defend myself better. Callan claimed that if I ever were to find myself in a situation like that again where I was faced with opponents much more skilled than I was, he would sleep a lot better knowing I could defend myself better than before. It wasn't that I was a bad fighter — on the contrary, Callan said I was decent for a Sky Person — but compared to Grounders who have been fighting their entire lives, I was terrible.
I was twenty-four years old, and now more than ever, I was the happiest I had been in a long, long time. Ethan and Callan were by my side, and we've created this makeshift family that works for us. Now, Ethan was twelve, and he was growing as smart as ever — he was thriving with Gaia's teachings. And as reluctant as I was on it, I allowed Ethan to be taught how to fight for the sole reason of self-defense, the same reason Callan taught me how to fight better. Like him, I slept a lot better knowing that Ethan could defend himself if anything ever came down to it, and it was thanks to Callan — he was the only person I would allow to teach Ethan because I trusted him.
Six years and eight days later, the three of us had grown closer than ever before.
We had been down here for a tiresome six years. Over two thousand days ago, Praimfaya raged over Earth's surface, scorching anything in its path and wreaking havoc amongst the structures. It was because of that havoc that we were still under the ground when three hundred twenty-seven days ago, we could've left this place and returned to the surface. The tower was still on top of us — it hadn't moved in the six years it's been knocked down, and it had trapped us in the Second Dawn Bunker. Many people were beginning to lose hope that we would ever return to the ground, that we would ever breathe in fresh air and see rays of sunlight.
I was ashamed to say that I was one of these people. No matter how much I or anyone else wanted there to be, there was no solution on our end that would allow us to escape this hell. As far as any of us knew, we would be stuck down here for the rest of our lives until all eight hundred of us died— yes, we are now at the low total of eight hundred people.
That was another completely separate issue — the fighting pits have become something else, something more terrible than they already were. Fights were now daily, and Octavia chose if the winner was rewarded their freedom or not. If not, they would have to fight another day and win, which rarely happened.
My streak of keeping myself and Ethan away from the destructiveness was shattered the day I was thrown into the fighting pits. The first fight Ethan and me saw was the one I fought in. Again, I'm ashamed to say that it wasn't either of our lasts — sometimes, we were forced to watch.
Today was no different than any other day. I had started my day by waking Ethan in his bed; the boy was now old enough that he could have his own bed — but he did occasionally crawl into bed with either Callan or me in the middle of the night. And I got him ready to go to Gaia for the day, and because he had some skill already from Callan, I didn't require Gaia to bring him back if they were learning about fighting. Once that was done, Callan and I would always head to the training area and spar for a couple of hours.
The first hit I got on Callan was a punch to the face, my right arm swinging with all force until it connected with his jaw, and as soon as I struck him, I could feel my knuckles bruising. I followed the attack by swinging my body around, kicking Callan in the stomach with my left foot.
He stumbled back as he rubbed his jaw. "You haven't used that move in a while. It just caught me off guard."
I rolled my eyes at the excuse; both Callan and I knew I was more of a skilled fighter now, almost as good as him. "Whatever."
After smirking at me, he stalked back towards me, making his attack by hitting me in the stomach, following it with an elbow to my chin. I only allowed the pain to overcome me for a second before I grabbed Callan's right arm and then his left, grasping them tightly before I kneed him in the lower stomach.
"You missed." He remarked.
A scoff fell from my lips as he used me holding his arm to his advantage, twisting to the side, bringing me along with him until I fell on my back with a groan. I had now completely lost my grip on his arms, so he had his hands free, attempting to bring down my shoulders to pin me for the win, but I wouldn't allow him. Snatching his arm, I spun myself around, so I contorted his arm, and while I did that, I swiped my right foot under him knocking him to the ground. He landed on his front side, and I saw that in the waistband of his pants sat a knife, so quickly I seized hold of it and went forward on Callan. My knees straddled his hips as I placed what I learned to be a dull knife against his throat while, with the other hand, I grabbed his hair, yanking his head back.
"You had this in your waistband." I commented slyly, squeezing my legs to further immobilize the warrior beneath me. "That's cheating. How dare you."
Through a strained grunt, Callan said, "Well, now you're using it, so technically, you're cheating."
My mouth playfully went agape. "You were gonna cheat first."
A mixture between a sigh and a scoff found its way past Callan's lips, and it told me he knew I was right. There was a grin on my face at the fact that I caught Callan using a 'weapon' before he actually revealed it. That meant I was getting better at assessing my opponents, which was something I had been struggling with as of late.
"Okay, fine." Callan huffed. "Can you let me go now?"
"Hmm." I thought aloud in a mocking way. "I don't know if I really want to."
"Please."
"Oh, I know." I exclaimed quietly. "If I let you go, you have to wake Ethan up in the morning for the next week."
"As opposed to what?" Queried Callan. "Staying like this for the rest of our lives?"
"We can do that if you want."
Callan let out an annoyed grunt before he finally let out, "Fine. I'll wake Ethan up for the next week."
"Two weeks?"
"No."
"Alright then." I pulled harder on Callan's hair inducing winces of pain to surpass his lips — he was whining like a little girl.
"Okay, okay, okay, okay. I'll wake Ethan up for the next two weeks." He finally gave in.
"See? Was that so hard?" I teased.
With a satisfied smile on my lips, I let go of Callan's hair, pushing myself off of his back and onto the floor. Even though I had threatened to stay like we were, I was thankful that Callan gave in, and that didn't happen as I sighed in relief, falling onto my back. I stared up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to catch my breath.
Ethan, Callan, and I have established a routine over the last six years, and I was happy with it. We had everything down to the exact science essentially when it came to what time we needed to wake up and how long Callan and I could train. Even through all the hardships that had occurred, I had come out happier than I expected to, and despite wanting to get to the ground and getting out of here, I didn't want things to change necessarily — I liked the pattern the three of us had established together.
Callan adjusted himself so that he was lying the opposite way of me, but our heads were aligned as we now both looked up. "What are we staring at?" Callan whispered.
I chuckled lightly. "Nothing. I was just thinking."
"That's kinda dangerous, don't you think?" He snickered.
"Oh, shut up." I tried to suppress a laugh as my hand instinctively went to slap him in the chest. "So, what's going on today? Same old stuff?"
"Yup." Callan nodded once. "There's a few fights, and that's it."
That's all there ever was for Callan to tell me. There was no need to discuss what punishments people who committed crimes would receive because they all got thrown into the arena, and there was no need to discuss how we could possibly get out of here because there was no way out. Not now and not in a million years.
Octavia now even had a name that the people called her. Blodreina, which means the Red Queen. And she had a throne in the rotunda, sitting at the top, above everyone watching as the fights took place. It was bullshit in my eyes. What the fighting pits had developed into never needed to happen. I understood most of what Octavia has done during the past six years, but turning the fighting pits into a gladiator arena was not one of them. It didn't seem necessary when it first began, and it sure as hell didn't seem necessary now. Octavia was supposed to be keeping us alive, not turning us against each other in the fighting pits, dwindling our numbers lower and lower when we were most likely the only human beings left alive.
"Are you going to come to the fights?" After a few moments of silence, Callan spoke, his voice sounding worried, and I assumed it was because he didn't want me to witness the brutality of it all. Callan has always tried to protect me, and while I adamantly told him that I didn't need his protection, he still gave it — I appreciated it nonetheless.
I shook my head. "No. I'll probably just stay in our room. Maybe find a book or something."
"Good." Callan said, relieved.
I bit the inside of my cheek before faintly saying, "I'm sorry."
Callan's head turned to me, his face only an inch or two from mine. "For what?"
"That you have to witness all the fights."
Turning his head back to look at the ceiling above us, a tiresome and worn-out expression overtook his features. For six years, Callan has been by Octavia's side for survival, and for six years, he's witnessed the viciousness that came along with it when people's lives were being threatened. Sure, he had seen his fair share on the ground — I knew because of the stories he told — but this was something else entirely, and what it had turned into was inhumane.
He didn't acknowledge my sentence with his own words; he just sat up and said, "Well, it's almost time. I better get to the rotunda."
"Yeah." I sighed, sitting myself up as Callan stood to his feet, and I followed suit, facing him. "Can you make sure Ethan's alright with Gaia while you're there?"
Callan nodded with a soft expression taking note of the concern that covered my face. The former Azgeda warrior saw the way I cared deeply for Ethan, and he knew it meant a lot to me that he was looking out for Ethan too. I wasn't as good as I could be for Ethan, not even close, and I knew it, but with Callan, I was the best I could be. And as smart as Ethan was, he knew that I felt this way — that I wasn't giving him the justice he deserved when it came to parental figures, so he made sure that every chance he got, he told me how thankful he was.
"You know I will." Callan smiled before he pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around his shoulders as mine did his middle.
Just like Callan was rubbing off on me and Ethan, we were rubbing off on him too. Callan would let his guard down with us easier than he ever would have six years ago. He's become more compassionate and more aware of people's feelings and how to deal with them. I knew he didn't have a good childhood by the way he refused to talk about any aspects of it, the way his face changed when anyone brought it up, and the scars that littered his torso — a part of me was terrified it was due to who Callan loved which would explain why he preferred to keep it a secret. And because of everything he endured, it gave him a rugged exterior. But after time, Ethan and I broke through. Callan was still the fierce warrior he was when I met him all that time ago when he saved me, but he was more benevolent, more willing to show that he did have a good side.
When we pulled away, I gave Callan a friendly smile as he returned it with a small one. I backed away from him, grabbing his shirt and armor that he discarded on the floor when we began to train. After throwing his shirt at him, I walked over with his armor helping him put it on once he pulled his shirt over his head. When he was back to his normal, warrior-like self, I patted his armor.
"Just a lifetime left." I muttered through a broken smile. The fact that we'd be down here for that long unless it were because of an external force damaged the hope, but if we were to be stuck down here for that long, at least I'd have Ethan and Callan.
❣︎
The newest book in my hand that I had acquired from Niylah's Rec Room, titled The Odyssey was in my hands, flipped just a few pages in as I lay on the bunk below Callan's. From what I gathered from the summary inside and the few pieces I have read so far, this was a tale told a decade after the fall of Troy, and Odysseus, known as the hero of Greek, still has not returned to his kingdom. There was more to it, but this was all I learned so far, and it was honestly quite intriguing. It had my face just centimeters from the pages and so out of tune with what was happening around me that I almost missed the rumble that echoed throughout the Second Dawn Bunker.
Whatever it was and wherever it came from, it was decently close to our room, as I felt the entire bunker shake after the loud rumble. Instinctively, I dropped The Odyssey and grabbed the head rail of the bed, gripping it as though it was my lifeline; my knuckles even turned a shade of white. I couldn't even imagine what the people closest to the source of this could be feeling; I was just in my room, near enough to feel it but not enough to where it had any structural effects. And by the sound of it, this disturbance surely was causing some kind of damage to the bunker.
Then it hit me as I continued to brace myself. If this was doing some external damage to the Second Dawn Bunker, then it meant there might now be a way out of here. I didn't know how that could be possible, but if there was even the slightest chance that we could leave, I was going to find out. Soon the rumbling stopped, and I paused for a second, waiting to ensure that there were going to be no more earthquake-like events.
Once I stood up from the bed, I decided that the first thing I needed to do was head to the rotunda and ensure that Ethan and Callan were okay. So after I walked through the door, I turned to the left and sprinted back to the rotunda; the only thing on my mind now was making sure the two boys most important to me were okay. I swiftly maneuvered through the hallways, having walked them for six years and knowing them like the back of my hand at this point. My pace was lightning fast until I rounded a corner, and a body came hurtling into mine, and we both crashed to the floor.
My hand went to my head as it had hit the shoulder of the other person, and when I looked to see who that other person was, I rolled my eyes and chastised loudly, "Callan! What the hell are you doing?"
The man scrambled to his feet and reached out a hand for me to take, and when I did, he easily lifted me off the ground. He looked at me with wild eyes as he said in a rush, "In the rotunda, a hole was made and—"
"Ethan. Is Ethan okay?" I asked hurriedly.
Callan nodded. "Yeah, but Jo—"
I didn't really care what Callan had to say after that, so I rushed past him and ran all the way to the doors leading to the rotunda, where surprisingly, no guards were standing post. It was a worthy inclusion that they either abandoned their positions when they heard the rumbling — but that didn't sound like Wonkru guards — so the most like outcome was that they were escorting prisoners back to their cells when the ruckus occurred. And I was thankful for this so I wouldn't have to deal with their obscene will to do as they were told by Octavia.
Moving as quickly as possible, I went to the keypad next to the door and promptly punched the same numbers it had been for the past six years. As I was dialing, I could hear more commotion going on, but it was unclear what exactly was going on; it only had me more anxious to get in there. When I was done typing in the numbers, the light next to the keypad flashed from red to green in a matter of seconds, and just as it had changed colors, I pulled open the door and sped through.
The sight that I was met with was not the one I expected to see, nor was it one I really wanted to see.
Rubble was all over the blood-stained floor, and sunlight — real sunlight beamed through from the gargantuan hole in the ceiling, shining like a spotlight on the scene playing out before me as I took heavy pants. Indra stood off to the side, but that wasn't what surprised me; what surprised me was the blond standing in the middle staring out at all the people who watched on in curiosity. It was Clarke Griffin. As she turned, our eyes slowly met for a moment, and nods were exchanged before my attention was snatched by Octavia and the person she was hugging as they pulled back. Once they did, the suspicions about who it was Octavia was sharing an embrace with were proven true.
Bellamy Blake stood there, his brown eyes catching mine as we simply stared at each other, and he watched as my face turned from one filled with curiosity and hope into one that held nothing but resentment and disdain for the man that stood before me.
❣︎
A/N
who is ready for all the drama i am about to bring this season?!?!?
anyways has anyone ever noticed that at the end of season four, it says six years and seven days later, and then clarke says that it's been 2,199 days, but when you do 365 times 6 plus 7, you get 2,197 days?? am i missing something, or what?????
like i went by what clarke says (she said 2,199, but a day passed, so it would be 2,200) but the math isn't mathing
well that's all for now
-annie
p.s did y'all like the little foreshadowing with the odyssey? look at me go