Chapter Text
As the sun's first rays pierce the morning mist, Indra stands tall upon the small wooden stage erected at the heart of Tondc. Her presence commands attention, her eyes scanning the gathering throngs of people with a mixture of pride and solemnity. Around her, the villagers gather in hushed anticipation, their faces upturned towards the stage as they await the arrival of the Commander.
Among the crowd, young Lexa sits perched atop her father's broad shoulders, her small hands clutching at his unruly mane of hair for balance. Her bright green eyes are wide with wonder as she gazes upon the scene unfolding before her, the rhythmic beat of drums reverberating through the air like a heartbeat of the village itself.
And then, with thunderous hoofbeats, the young Commander rides into view, his figure framed against the golden glow of the rising sun. Mounted upon a magnificent steed, he exudes an aura of regal authority, his forehead marked in the traditional way of his clan, Trishanakru, a series of dots running vertically from the centre of his brow to his hairline, aligning with the bridge of his nose. These markings are a symbol of his heritage and his unwavering allegiance to Trishanakru first. The Commander leads a procession through the heart of the village, his gaze steady and commanding, his every movement exuding confidence and strength.
Despite his youth, there is a maturity in the way he carries himself, a sense of purpose that belies his years. Mounted upon his magnificent steed, he exudes an aura of regal authority, every stride of his mount echoing through the village streets like a drumbeat of power.
As he rides past, the villagers offer silent nods of respect, their admiration palpable in the air. For in the young Commander, they see not just a leader, but a beacon of hope for the future—a promise of prosperity and unity in the days to come.
And as the procession continues on its journey through the village, the Commander's steady gaze remains fixed ahead, his thoughts turning to the challenges and responsibilities that await him. But for now, in this moment of triumph and celebration, he allows himself to bask in the warmth of the people's adoration, knowing that together, they will overcome whatever obstacles lie in their path.
Behind him rides Anya, her presence as formidable as ever, her sharp cheekbones catching the light as she sits astride her chestnut horse. Though her expression remains stoic, there is a quiet intensity in her gaze as she takes in the scene before her, her keen eyes missing nothing.
During the procession, Lexa's father points out a bald man to her, informing her that he is Titus the Fleimkepa, a much revered figure within Trikru society, known for his wisdom and spiritual guidance. Despite his lack of hair, there is an undeniable aura of power and wisdom that surrounds him, a testament to his role as a keeper of tradition and lore.
As the Commander and his entourage draw nearer to the stage, General Indra steps forward, her voice ringing out clear and strong over the murmurs of the crowd. "People of Tondc!" she calls, her words carrying the weight of authority. "Today, we gather to witness a momentous occasion. Today, our young Lexa begins her journey as a Natblida. She arrived here today a child of Trikru, but she will leave as a second to a great warrior."
A ripple of excitement courses through the crowd at her words, a sense of pride swelling in their hearts as they realize the significance of this day. For Lexa, it is a moment she will never forget, a glimpse into a future filled with promise and possibility.
As the ceremony unfolds, the air is filled with a sense of anticipation and hope, the villagers standing united in their support for Lexa and the path she is destined to walk. And as she watches from her vantage point upon her father's shoulders, Lexa knows that no matter what challenges lie ahead, she will have to face them with courage and determination.
Lexa's father reaches up and gently lowers her to the ground, her heart flutters with a mixture of excitement and fear. The ground feels solid beneath her feet, a stark contrast to the security of her father's shoulders. With a small smile and a reassuring pat on her back, he encourages her forward. "Go," he says softly, his voice filled with love and pride.
As Lexa tentatively makes her way through the crowd, the residents of Tondc reach out to offer words of encouragement and support. Hands pat her on the back, and atop her head offering silent assurances that she is not alone on this journey. Each touch is a reminder of the strength and unity of her community, a bond that will sustain her through the challenges to come.
Despite the reassurances of those around her, Lexa feels the weight of fear pressing down upon her. Her knees tremble with uncertainty, her heart pounding in her chest. But she remembers the promise she made to Indra, to be brave and make Tondc proud.
Drawing upon every ounce of courage within her, Lexa takes a deep breath and continues forward, her steps faltering but determined. With each stride, she feels the weight of expectation upon her shoulders, the eyes of the village upon her as she approaches the stage where Indra stands waiting.
As she finally reaches the foot of the stage, Lexa looks up at Indra, her gaze steady despite the turmoil within her. With a small nod of encouragement from the General, she takes the final steps onto the stage, her heart pounding in her chest.
In that moment, as she stands before her community, Lexa does not yet understand that she is not just facing her fears alone. She carries with her the hopes and dreams of Tondc, a beacon of courage and determination in the face of adversity. But she takes her place upon the stage, ready to begin her journey to become a Natblida.
As Lexa atop the stage, her small fingers pick anxiously at the sheathed sword at her hip. The Commander, kneels before her with a warm smile, his youthful eyes meeting Lexa's with a gentle reassurance. He understands that she is just a child, only four or five years old, so he speaks in Trigedasleng, the common tongue of the Trikru, ensuring that Lexa and all the residents of Tondc can understand him.
“Hello, Lexa. Today is a very big day for you, I hope you’re ready.” He says warmly and extends his forearm to her, his voice soft and friendly as he addresses Lexa. Though she doesn't fully grasp the significance of his words, she senses his kindness and instinctively reaches out to clasp his outstretched arm in the traditional Trikru greeting.
“I am Lexa kom Trikru,” she says loudly, shoulders back like Indra had taught her. “Who are you?”
“I am Kemji kom Trishanakru,” the Commander says warmly, introducing himself to Lexa.
As the Commander laughs in response to her innocence, Lexa can't help but giggle along with him, her fear momentarily forgotten in the warmth of his demeanour. She may not understand the gravity of this moment, but she senses that the Commander is someone she can trust, someone who sees beyond her youth to the potential within her.
Beside them, Indra watches on with a mixture of pride and amusement, her heart swelling with affection for the young girl who stands before her. She knows that the Commander’s presence here is just a gesture of goodwill, a sign of friendship and unity between their clans in spite of the violence and war that they had only just put past them. The Commander does not typically attend a test of the blood. But this boy, for the handful of years he had been Commander, had been doing whatever he could to make amends and heal old wounds and grudges. As the ceremony unfolds, Indra stands tall upon the stage, her presence commanding respect and admiration from all who behold her.
Beside her, Anya stands with quiet reverence, her gaze fixed upon her former mentor with a mixture of respect and admiration. Despite her own formidable reputation, Anya still views Indra as far superior, she views her as an eternal symbol of strength and leadership within the Trikru clan. And so, she positions herself just to Indra's left, a subtle gesture of deference and respect, acknowledging the General's authority and wisdom.
A figure steps forward from the ranks, his presence commanding attention even amidst the sea of warriors and leaders. It is Titus, the Flamekeeper, his bald tattooed head gleaming in the sunlight, a solemn expression etched upon his weathered features.
With measured steps, Titus approaches Lexa, his eyes fixed upon her with an intensity that seems to pierce through to her very soul. She feels a shiver of apprehension run down her spine as he draws nearer, his presence exuding an aura of ancient wisdom and authority.
Without a word, Titus extends his hand towards Lexa, his gaze unwavering as he waits for her to offer her palm. There is a solemnity to the gesture, a weight of tradition and ceremony that hangs heavy in the air.
Lexa's gaze instinctively seeks out Indra, her hero. With a silent nod of encouragement from the General, Lexa gathers her resolve, and with trembling fingers, she offers her palm to Titus, her heart pounding in her chest as she awaits his judgment. And then, with a swift and precise movement, Titus draws a small blade from his belt and slices her palm, a thin line of blood welling up in its wake.
The pain is sharp and sudden, but Lexa grits her teeth and bears it stoically just as she had promised Indra she would, her eyes fixed on Titus as he examines the blood that stains her palm. For a moment, there is silence, tension thick in the air as the Flamekeeper considers what he sees.
And then, with a nod of satisfaction, Titus speaks, his voice deep and resonant. "Nightblood," he declares, his words carrying the weight of prophecy and destiny.
For Lexa, the rest of Titus' words are lost in the haze of the stinging pain in her palm and confusion. But around her, the villagers murmur in awe and reverence, their eyes wide with wonder at the confirmation of her destiny. Titus steps back into the shadows, his role in the ceremony complete, and Lexa is left to ponder the weight of his words and the path that lies ahead. For she knows now that her journey is only just beginning, and the trials that await her will test her strength and courage in ways she cannot yet begin to imagine.
As the clamour of applause and cheers begin to ebb away, Lexa's attention gravitates towards the figure standing alongside Indra. Lexa looks up at Anya’s imposing figure, she notices the stark silhouette of the young woman she's seen countless times in the streets of Tondc. Yet, in this moment, Anya appears different, she seems older, more serious, more imposing. Her tall figure stands with a sense of purpose, her features etched with the weight of responsibility. Though she's not afraid, Lexa can't help but feel a sense of awe in the presence of this older, more serious version of the woman she had come to know through passing. Anya's demeanour radiates a quiet intensity, her gaze steady and unwavering as she meets Lexa's eyes, silently conveying a depth of wisdom and experience that surpasses her years. In the shared gaze between them, there lingers an unspoken understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the intertwined paths they are destined to tread, and the enduring roles they'll play in each other's lives.
Knowing and understanding the significance of this moment, Indra drops to one knee beside Lexa, her voice low but commanding as she introduces the two. "Lexa, you remember Anya, don’t you?" she says, her gaze steady as she looks between them. "You’re going to be learning from her from now on."
For Lexa, the implications of Indra's words are lost in the haze of confusion and uncertainty. She may not understand the full extent of what is being promised, but she senses that a change is coming, a shifting of the tides that will alter the course of her destiny.
Anya's eyes soften as she looks down at Lexa, a hint of emotion flickering across her face. Lexa is only about 12 winters her junior, but Anya knows that she will protect this little girl with every fiber of her being, she will do her utmost to train her and make sure she’s ready for the conclave that will come one day.
Anya kneels gracefully beside Lexa, her voice a soft murmur meant only for the young girl's ears. "Lexa kom Trikru," she starts, her words imbued with the gravity of generations past, "Allow me to make you this promise. I vow to shield you with my life, and to lead you with the wisdom and strength that your journey requires."
Her gaze holds unwaveringly as she continues, a solemn determination in her eyes. "As we begin to prepare you for your future conclave, know that I will spare nothing to ensure that you are ready, that you will enter it with the confidence to be victorious. I believe you are the future of our people, and I will protect you with every fibre of my being from this day until my last. Know this, Lexa, I will forever watch over you, guiding you as best as I can through the trials ahead and standing as your unwavering ally in all things you will take on."
With these words, the weight of Anya's promise settles over Lexa like a protective mantle, reassuring her of the steadfast support she will have as she steps into her destiny.
Her words hang heavy in the air, a solemn oath that resonates with the echoes of generations past. For Anya, this pledge is more than just words—it is a sacred bond, forged in the fires of history and tradition, that binds her to Lexa and their shared destiny.
With a sense of purpose burning within her, Anya reaches out and takes Lexa's hand in hers, her grip firm and unwavering. "I swear this on the honour of our clan and the blood of my ancestors," she continues, her voice ringing out with conviction.
Lexa looks up at her, a flicker of understanding dawns in her young eyes. Though she may not fully grasp the significance of Anya's words, she senses the gravity of the moment, the weight of responsibility that now rests upon her shoulders.
And as General Indra looks on with pride, a sense of satisfaction fills her heart. For in this quiet exchange, she sees the passing of the torch from one generation to the next, the promise of a bright future guided by the wisdom and strength of those who have come before.
When the ceremony draws to a close and the crowd begins to disperse, Anya remains by Lexa's side, her vow of fealty a constant reminder of the bond that now unites them. And together, they stand ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead, knowing that their strength lies not just in their individual abilities, but in the unbreakable bond of loyalty and trust that binds them together.