Chapter Text
I saw the light vanish from her eyes as she mouthed my name. I didn’t have to hear any words to know it was my name; for years I memorized the shape her mouth made the word leapt out of it. The life escaped her eyes as the blood flowed from her neck. I heard screams engulf the room, though it took me a while for me to realize they were my own. I held my two children tighter and tried to cover their eyes. No child should have to see their mother murdered right in front of them.
I squeezed and I prepared myself for my last breath. For five years I had been holding the air, knowing this could happen. Knowing that I could be found. And now it was here. And I wasn’t ready. I found so much to live for.
The large man with the bloody machete came toward me. And all I could think about in the last few moments was my wife. Her smile, her warmth, her laugh, her everything. Everything she gave me. Love, our children, my happiness. I almost smiled at the thought of being with her again.
But then he didn’t get to us. He didn’t slaughter me. Instead, I saw him fall back slightly as a knife plunged through his chest. His eyes bulged out as if he was surprised by the blade. I heard him groan and then fall on the ground. My wife’s murderer died in front of me. I felt no satisfaction. Only anger.
“Clarke?” The woman who had just killed the man, called out.
I didn’t look up at her. I stared at my wife’s lifeless body and rocked my children. My three-year-old son started to sob and I didn’t know how to comfort him. My baby girl continued to sleep as if nothing had happened. As if her mother wasn’t just killed.
“Clarke?” The voice called out again.
“She’s in shock,” another voice said. “We need to get her up. There are going to be more of them coming. You know her. Help her.”
“Clarke,” The first voice said as the woman crouched down in front of me. “Let me help you.”
I shook my head. I knew she wanted to carry one of my children. I wouldn’t let her. No, that honor was reserved for my wife. For Niylah. I looked up into the eyes of the woman I had known such a long time ago. She wanted to help. I saw her eyes, they were truly sympathetic.
Octavia Blake killed the man who killed my wife. I hadn’t seen her in five years, but the trust I had for her never left. The man who was standing at the door said more were coming. I would not let my children be killed.
Wobbly, I tried to stand up. I struggled with my crying son and my sleeping daughter, but I would not let them go. No, I wouldn’t let anyone else hold them. Octavia got the message. She didn’t try to help me any longer.
She turned to the man and said, “Let’s go. I’m sorry, Clarke. We don’t have enough time for you to grab your things.”
I looked at Niylah dead on the floor of our own house. She was the only thing I wanted to bring with me. And I couldn’t have her. I was Wanheda after all. Commander of Death. It was only time that the woman I chose to spend my life with would die.
Before I left my home, I whispered, so only Niylah could hear, “Yu gonplei ste odon. Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim.”
I followed Octavia out of the small hut we were living in. My home for the last five years. The home I got married in. The home I had birthed two children. The home I loved. The home that was taken from me in only a few minutes.
“Where are we going?” I asked, speaking for the first time as we walked quickly through the woods.
Octavia looked at me with pity laced in her features. “Polis,” She answered simply. “It’s where you can be safe. I’ll explain everything when we get there. Clarke… Clarke, I’m so sorry.”
I bit back my tears and screams and everything else I was feeling at the moment. “She was everything I wasn’t. She loved me for who I was. For being the Commander of Death. She died because of me. I killed her. My wife. The mother of my children.”
“No,” Octavia argued, shaking her head furiously. “You didn’t kill her, Clarke. Skaikru did.”