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“They will tell stories about us one day,” Lexa whispered, twining her arms around Clarke’s hips to draw her flush against her chest. “Of the Great Mountain Slayer, and the One Who United the Clans.”
Clarke let a soft laugh escape her lips as she lifted her hands to wrap her fingers around Lexa’s slender hands. “They will, will they?” She said with a curl of her lips. “Will they remember the part where the Mountain Slayer bowed to the Leader of the United Clans?”
“Yes, they will.” Lexa answered, brushing her lips against Clarke’s skin as she laid a gentle kiss on her shoulder. “But, the stories will all describe who the Leader loved the Mountain Slayer, and how together, they built a new way for their people to live in harmony.”
“You’re awfully confident when you say that,” Clarke muttered as she turned her head to look into Lexa’s eyes.
“I have begun to write the tale myself.” Lexa murmured letting a wide smile overtake her lips. “It will be passed down the line of Commanders, until there is no need for their leadership. Then, if it is able, it will fall away into the legends of our people.”
~
Once upon a time the world ended.
It ended with a whimper. It ended with a crash. It ended with fire, and brimstone, and burning.
It ended, and it would never be the same again.
Out of the ashes a figure emerged to bring the world together. They came out of the darkness, out of the ashes, out of the dust. They came to pull the clans together, to form them into one people, to end the bloodshed and warfare.
However, in the end, this figure—This Commander—did not act alone. Another came, later, to stand by The Commander’s side. Together, they reined in peace. They ended the culture of blood begetting blood. Blood must not have blood. Jus nou drein jus daun.
Together, they formed a new world out of the ashes of the old one.
They are those we owe our lives to now. They are those who we honour with love. They are those we give peace.
Heda Leksa, and her ever-present companion, Wanheda Klark.
The foundation of peace.