Chapter Text
The cold Azgeda air bit at Clarke’s cheeks and stung her lungs as she ran around the outer walls of the kingdom. The pain was welcome though, it was familiar. She jumped the large icy rock that was on her usual path. Finally, she turned around the curve of one of the main entrance’s watch towers and stops in front of the large gate. She allowed a small swells of pride to raise in her chest. The impregnable fortress was her home. Just because she hated Nia doesn’t mean she has to hate her people. She glanced up at the tower and flicked her hand in the guard’s direction. The man in the tower nodded and shouted at the guard in the other tower and they began opening the gates. She strode forward and made her way towards the palace.
Her head shot up when she heard the distressed voice of a woman and her hand instantly shot to one of the daggers on her wrist. She relaxed slightly when she realized that it was simply a thief.
“Hod op! Thef!” Clarke watched as a woman sprinted after someone wearing a hooded cloak and sprinting away. She sighed and twirled the dagger in between her fingers before whipping it at the running man’s calf. The thief fell with a cry of pain and the assassin hummed in contentment. Without emotion, she yanked her knife out of the fallen form’s leg, wiped it off on her sleeve and slipped it back inside her wrist sheath.
“Why would you steal? You know the the price you’ll pay for this.” She sighed and grabbed the downed form before pulling him up by his hood. The older man had his warrior’s scars. He was either discharged or had defected from the army.
“Please! They’ll take take my hands! Have mercy!” He begged,
He was shaking his head viciously as the woman who’d been chasing him came forwards hesitantly.
“Mochof, Wanheda.” She murmured hesitantly. Clarke nodded in response and signalled a guard to come take the man who was begging for mercy. She kept her emotionless mask in place, long used to ignoring the suffering of those who didn’t often deserve it. She closed her eyes and let herself feel slight remorse for the man. When she opened her eyes and she turned on her heel and began to walk towards Nia’s palace once again.
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Clarke dragged the white war paint in a line from the bottom of her lips to her neck. She dipped three fingers back into the tin of war paint and placed them just below her hairline. She dragged them down her face, over her right eye, her fingers raised over her jagged warriors scars. Once at her cheekbone she dropped her fingers into the cold wash basin and rinsed the paint off of them. She heard a knock on the door and she turned towards her weapons rack.
“Min yu op,” The blonde called out as she began putting her daggers and throwing knives back in their respective sheaths, one on the inside of each wrist, one on her left forearm, many along her torso and back and even more along her legs. She heard the heavy spruce door swing open and turned. She had to hold back the scowl that nearly appeared on her face when she saw Viator stood in the doorway, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
“Hei, Viator” He nodded in greeting at her, “What is it?” She questioned.
“It is time Clarke. The queen has your assignment.” She tensed but nodded,
“Very well,” She felt excitement as well as nerves run through her body, Nia had said she’d have an important target next. Previously she might have felt sick that she was excited for killing but she’d grown to accept it. She knew she was an emotionless monster now; no better than a tool to the queen who had taken her freedom and doomed her to a life of killing.
“Follow me.” She nodded before grabbing her bow and quiver, slinging them both over her shoulder. She followed him through the cold stone halls of the palace. The torches on the walls did nothing to warm up the cold that seemed to seep to her bones she was used to. One glance at a door she knew led to the dungeons nearly made her whimper. She didn’t of course. She had long ago taught herself to school her emotions. Especially those that would make her seem weak. After all, she was Nia’s Seken. She was Azgeda’s most ruthless assassin. She didn’t have kill marks because her back wasn’t big enough. She was Wanheda. She couldn’t risk feeling something as human as fear. So she kept walking behind the guard. Her steel toed boots making no noise, sharply contrasting Viator’s heavy steps. Finally he opened the door that lead to the side of the throne room. She walked through, all doubt and unease bleeding from her when Nia’s eyes locked onto her. When she stopped in front of Nia’s throne made of bones she dropped to one knee and let her head fall.
“Ai Kwin,” She muttered, she hated bowing to the woman. Hell, she hated the woman. She’d never see anyone she loved again because of her. It’d been 1 year, 2 months and 4 days since the Ark had sent her to the ground. If she closed her eyes she could still feel her mother’s arms around her telling her she was going to the ground. Still feel the fear that coursed through her as she was held by the woman who had raised her.
“Mom? Mom what’s going on!” She heard the guard speaking behind her but ignored him, “Oh God they’re executing me aren’t they? They’re going to execute us all to make more time for you all to survive, are they!” She half whispered in horror,
“Clarke, you are not being executed. You’re being sent to the ground. You’re our only hope.” Her mother whispered into her ear, stroking her hair.
“What? No! It’s not survivable! Why now? We still have another year and a half of air!” Her mother shook her head,
“I don’t know Clarke, I’m sorry it isn’t up to me.” Clarke felt tears well up in her eyes,
“Mom I’m scar- Oh” She let a pained gasp leave her lips as she felt something stick into her back. She felt her consciousness begin to fade and just before sleep claimed her she heard her mother’s words.
“Earth, Clarke. You get to go to Earth.”
She heard someone snapped her name and quickly brought herself back to reality.
“Klark!” Nia’s voice made her head shoot up, “I said rise .” She snarled, jolting Clarke to rise to her feet quickly,
“Moba, my Queen.” The older woman simply nodded before leaning back in her chair lazily.
“Viator tells me you have my assignment?” It was only half a question, somewhat a statement. The Queen let out a hum of acknowledgement before gesturing for her closest guard to come close. She leant over and whispered into his ear. He nodded sharply,
“Sha, Ai Kwin.” He replied to whatever she said before gesturing to his fellow to follow him. Clarke watched as the two guards left the room, leaving it empty except for her and the Queen. The older woman leant forwards, a predatory smirk on her face.
“Before I tell you your target, I must warn you. If you tell a soul who I have sent you to kill, I will cut your tongue from your mouth and have you hung from the city walls without cover until you freeze for your treason.” She said it all in a bored voice, as if she hadn’t just threatened to kill the blonde in front of her. Nevertheless, she nodded,
“Of course, my Queen, I would never betray your trust or you.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth even as she said them. Nia seemed pleased though,
“Good. Then there’s no point drawing this out.” She pulled out a small scroll from a pocket on the inside of her armour and handed it to Clarke, “That is all the information you shall need to take your target out.” Clarke frowned and put the scroll inside her cloak,
“Your majesty you still have not told me who it is you wish for me to kill.” The Queen nodded and let out a chuckle in response to that.
“Your target is Heda Lexa, The great Commander.” She said the title sarcastically but Clarke was too busy trying to focus on her breathing. She had almost choked on her own breath when Nia had said her name.
“Ai Kwin, I do not mean to question your judgement, but The Commander? If I am caught it would mean a war between Azgeda and the entire Coalition!” She couldn’t help her voice reaching a few octaves higher than usual with panic. If Nia got killed in the war she would not grieve, but far too many innocents would be slaughtered.
Nia’s expression flickered into one of rage. She was on her feet instantly, striking Clarke across the face. Clarke flinched and stumbled back a step but did nothing more than clench her fist. Anything else would be a death sentence.
“It is not you place to give me counseling. It is your place to obey. Besides, if you are caught it does not matter what happens between Azgeda and the Coalition because you will be dead. Either at the Commander’s hand or mine.” She snapped. Clarke nodded, she felt the sting of Nia’s hand, marking her cheek as clearly as Azgeda’s clan marking marked their flags. Regardless, Clarke nodded and dropped to her knee once again,
“Of course, Ai Kwin, Wigod Ai. Beja.” She muttered, keeping her eyes trained on the floor. She heard Nia scoff and sit back down.
“Stand up, Seken.” Clarke did as she was told and raised to her feet. She looked at the older blonde and Nia seemed to contemplate for a moment before nodding. “Jelin!” She called out. Clarke flinched at the name.
Jelin was Nia’s torturer. Never more than one shout away. He walked into the room quickly. The muscled man was practically drenched in blood. Most likely the blood of the thief she’d caught in the town earlier.
“Jelin, give Klark five lashes for disobedience.” She grit her teeth but didn’t protest. It could have been much worse. Nia looked at the assassin expectantly and Clarke pulled off her armored tunic and her shirt, leaving her alone in her chest bindings.
The torturer nodded at her and tilted his head in the direction of the post to the side of Nia’s throne room. Taking a shaky breath she made her way over to it and wrapped her arms around it. He pulled the whip from his belt and Clarke tensed as she heard it snap in the air. When it finally hit her back she didn’t cry out. It hurt, hell it always did. But she knew better than to scream. She’d learned her lesson long ago.
When the final strike landed she had just began to feel blood trickling down from her back where one of his more vicious strikes had hit her. With that she rose on shaky legs and grabbed her black shirt and light armoured tunic and pulled them on. Fastening the straps of her armour. She’d have to stop by Ralof, -the city’s healer’s- house on the way out of the city. She clenched her hands hard, the feeling of her nails biting into her palm grounding her and distracting her from the pain on her back.
“Is that all, my Queen?” She asked,
“Yes, you are dismissed, Klark.” She said before adding, almost as an afterthought, “If you see Ontari on your way out, send her to me.” Clarke nodded and turned towards the door she had entered the room from and made her way back towards her room. She opened the heavy door of her room and walked in. Before she grabbed her traveling cloak she checked that her daggers all had their poison on them. It was one of Azgeda’s best tools. The poison was made by a small caterpillar that was only around in high summer and found only in Azgeda. The other clans had yet to find a cure for it. Clarke, doubted they even knew of it’s existence.
Once satisfied that they were all properly doused in the venom she pulled the coat-like cloak on and strode out the door. The flaps of her cloak billowing behind her legs. She entered the throne room and glanced at the Queen. Barely holding back the reflex to flinch when she saw a villager kneeling in front of Nia, a guard holding the man’s tongue and a knife up to the tongue. Clearly about to cut it out. Most likely for arguing against one of Nia’s corrupt policies. She repressed a shudder and carried on to the village. She wouldn’t have time to see Ralof. It was eight day journey to Polis on horse if she only stopped to let the horse rest. Plus, she needed to read the information on the scroll and she couldn’t exactly do that in the city. Heda’s spies were everywhere. She thought in disgust of the “great” Commander. The cruel woman who had allowed the Plain Riders to attack their South-Western border for months on end. Clarke may not have liked Azgeda’s rulers, but these were her people. After all, Clarke had defended those borders for four months before Nia had taken her on as a Seken to train her as an assassin.
As she walked through the capital she felt watched villagers shrink away from her. If only they had the same experiences with her that the villagers in the outer villages had had. They’d know that she’s also an experience healer who helps out all she can. They’d know that though she brings death, she heals with every village she goes to.
Finally, she reached the stables and nodded at the stable girl, Maeva, with a smile. The child couldn’t have been more than nine and had yet to begin developing the muscles that warriors had. Therefore she most likely didn’t have a Fos. She might ask Nia to allow her to take a Seken when she returns from her task of assassinating Heda. No, not when. If .
She shook off the dark thoughts, she wasn’t Azgeda’s best assassin for nothing. She just had to think of this as any regular assassination.
“Maeva, fetch Jorundr.” She said to the small brunette girl who in turn nodded vigorously.
“Of course, Wanheda!” She turned and scurried into the stable’s to get the blonde’s horse. She hated moments like these. Moments where she could simply stand, wait and think . She tried to busy herself as much as possible because if she truly let herself stand still and think about what she was doing, where she was in her life, she’d break. But she wouldn’t let that happen. She walked into the stables, deciding to help Maeva prep her horse.
When she walked in she nearly let out a chuckle at the sight of the small girl trying to calm the ever excitable horse down. The brunette looked at Clarke with an apologetic expression,
“I’m sorry, Clarke, he won’t calm down.” She muttered as Clarke made her way over to the girl and her horse.
“And the sun rises in the East,” She said in an amused voice, rolling her eyes as she did so. The assassin raised her hand and stroked the horse’s muzzle and it’s frantic movements and noises slowly calmed to a stop. She smiled and unhooked the latch the kept the horse’s pen’s gate closed, allowing the magnificent stallion out. As it trotted out, she ran her fingers through it’s mane and swung her leg up over the saddle. Once she was fully settled she smiled at the girl who was now several feet below her.
“Stay safe, Yongon.” She said with a rare smile. The girl nodded vigorously once again and Clarke nodded once more before tapping her heels into the horse’s sides, making it take off at a trot. She continued at that pace until she reached the city limits and then broke into a gallop. She would have a long journey ahead of her.
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She sat in the lean-to shelter she’d made, eating rabbit she’d hunted and cooked on the roaring fire in front of her. She was proud of how quickly she got it done, after all she hadn’t been out of the capital in more than a month and hadn’t had the opportunity to camp out like this for a long while. Especially not alone.
Glancing up at the dark sky, she saw the moon’s light lighting up the snowy ground. The area where she was camped out wasn’t too exposed, but there was still a decent amount of clear ground in the clearing she’d stopped in. Her horse was tied to a tree a few feet away. Deciding she was prepared for sleep she stood and grabbed a handful of oats. As she walked over to Jorundr it let out a huff of air and Clarke smiled softly, putting her hand in front of the horse’s mouth. It ate the oats quickly and the blonde was content that she had properly fed it when the horse settle itself on the ground and closed it’s eyes.
She lay down under the shelter on the bedroll that she’d taken from her horse’s saddle and pulled her cloak tighter around herself. Azgeda night were not forgiving. Especially not so late in autumn. Slowly, she drifted off to the sounds of the crackling fire.
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She trotted up to the open doors of Polis and couldn’t help but be astounded by two things. Though they were different parts of her that were astounded.
Her tactically trained mind couldn’t believe they simply left their gates open. Sure, they had guards on the walls on either side of the gate and on the ground but Azgeda had their doors closed at all times and only warriors, Ambassadors and trade caravans were allowed to enter and leave. Even then, the trade caravans often were not allowed in.
The second part of her, the part that Nia had tried -and nearly succeeded- to kill was mesmerized by the sheer size of Polis. It was huge, she’d had an overhead view on top of the hill about quarter mile off from the gates. It was clearly bustling with life and it was even louder up close.
Once she was a few meters away from the door, the two ground guards stopped and moved towards the center, crossing their spears.
“Stop Azgona, dismount from your steed.” The warrior to her left spoke. She sighed and swung down from her horse, keeping her hand on it’s reigns.
“What are your intentions in our city, Azgeda girl?” Asked the woman to the right. Clarke bit back a snappy retort and mentally referred to the scroll Nia had given her.
“I am an assassin of Azgeda, sent by Queen Nia to serve Heda.” She said, reciting what the scroll had told her to say when questioned. The two guards looked at each other as if Clarke was crazy.
“You expect us to allow an Azgeda assassin sent by the Queen into our city?” Spat the woman. Clarke simply raised a brow at her response,
“Polis is open to all members of the Coalition is it not? As an Azgeda warrior I fall under a member of the Coalition. Now shall you let me in, or shall I return to my Queen and tell her that I was refused entrance to the city by two warriors so that she may be in contact with Heda and have you both punished?” She kept her voice just above a whisper the entire time, knowing that tended to have the most unnerving effect one people. The two exchanged glances before the man nodded stonily.
“Very well, may I ask who you are? I will send a messenger to Heda informing her of your arrival.” He said, the man was clearly less confrontative than his partner.
Clarke smiled, thinking for a moment about how she should respond. Would, Klark kom Azgeda work? Surely not. No one knew her as Klark. They knew Wanheda. Wanheda she would be. The smile on her face shifted into an arrogant smirk.
“I am Wanheda.” The two guards, though both taller than her seemed to shrink a few inches as they inhaled sharply.
“Very well, Wanheda,” The man said, his voice much more hesitant now, “Hestla will take your horse to the stables, you may enter Polis.” Clarke nodded, patting her horse a few more times before straightening her face, clearing all traces of the smirk she previously held away.
“See to it that he is not hurt,” She said to the woman who had taken the reigns of her horse, “If he is someone else may be hurt.” The unspoken threat hung in the air. Clarke didn’t bother waiting to see their reaction and simply walked into the city. This was certainly going to be her most exciting assassination.
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Translations
Hod op = Stop
Azgona = Azgeda Warrior
Mochof = Thank you
Min yu op = Enter
Ai kwin = My Queen
Moba = Apologies
Wigod ai = Forgive me
Beja = Please
Yongon = Child