By nightfall, the heavy wooden gates were finally dragged into place. The perimeter wall was completely finished, enclosing the dropship in a sturdy, jagged ring of spiked timber. For the first time since they had fallen from the sky, the hundred had a real fortress.
Inside the dropship, the mood had shifted from sheer panic to exhausted relief. Clarke sat beside Atom on the metal floor, checking his bandages. His breathing was deep and even, his condition completely stable thanks to the heavy burn salves.
Nearby, a shadow shifted near the ramp. Jasper Jordan, leaning heavily on a makeshift wooden crutch, slowly hobbled his way down to the ground. He looked pale and battered, but he was finally walking. He scanned the clearing and spotted Aleksander standing near the fire, wiping the soot from his hands.
Jasper made his way over, stopping a few feet away. He looked up at the Alpha Station boy, a mix of awe and genuine gratitude in his eyes.
"Hey," Jasper said quietly. "Clarke told me what happened out there... with the Grounders. And the food. I just... I wanted to say thank you. For saving me. For saving all of us."
Aleksander looked at Jasper, his expression calm and unreadable. He gave a single, firm nod. "Keep your weight off that leg, Jasper. When the time comes, I expect you to be able to hold a spear."
Jasper swallowed hard, nodding quickly before hobbling away to sit with Monty by the fire.
As Jasper left, Octavia stepped out of the shadows. She had washed the ash from her face and had her hair tied back. She walked right up to Aleksander, her blue eyes fierce and determined.
"The wall is built," Octavia stated, crossing her arms. "You said you would teach me how to fight."
Aleksander held her gaze for a moment, seeing the genuine, burning desire to become something more than just Bellamy's little sister. He turned and gestured toward a quiet clearing near the edge of the new wall, away from the noise of the camp.
"Get ready," Aleksander said smoothly.
As they walked past the weapon stockpiles, neither of them noticed John Murphy pacing angrily near a pile of chopped wood, kicking the dirt and patting down his pockets.
"Where the hell is it?" Murphy muttered to himself, his face twisting into a scowl. "Where is my damn blade?"
In the quiet shadows near the wall, Aleksander tossed a heavy, salvaged metal combat knife to Octavia. She caught it clumsily by the handle, instantly raising it in a defensive, rigid stance.
"Drop your shoulder," Aleksander instructed, his voice slipping into the cold, clinical cadence of a lethal instructor. He stepped forward and tapped her wrist. "You're holding it like a kitchen knife. A blade is not a tool; it is an extension of your arm. If you grip it too tight, a stronger opponent will snap your wrist. Keep it fluid."
Octavia adjusted her grip, shifting her weight as Aleksander mirrored her stance.
"You are smaller, faster, and lighter than the Grounders," Aleksander explained, pacing slowly around her like a predator evaluating its prey. "Do not try to block their strikes. You will lose. You dodge, you pivot, and you aim only for points of maximum hemorrhage."
Aleksander stepped in close, moving with terrifying speed, and tapped the side of Octavia's neck before she could even blink.
"The carotid artery. Four seconds to unconsciousness," Aleksander stated coldly. He moved his hand down, tapping the inside of her thigh. "The femoral artery. If you sever this, they will bleed out in less than a minute, no matter how big they are. And here—" he tapped her lower back, just beneath the ribs. "The kidneys. A deep puncture here causes instant systemic shock. They will drop."
Octavia absorbed every word, her eyes locked onto his, completely captivated by the ruthless, calculated science of his violence. She mirrored his movements, practicing the strikes in the cool night air, transforming from an innocent Ark delinquent into a weapon.
The heavy exertion of the training session finally caught up to Octavia. She lowered the metal knife, her chest heaving as she wiped a sheen of sweat from her forehead. Around them, the darkness of the night had fully settled, but the forest was far from pitch black.
As the sun disappeared, the woods truly came alive. A breathtaking, ethereal glow of bioluminescence began to bleed through the canopy, painting the ferns, vines, and moss in haunting, beautiful shades of blue, green, and violet.
"You're losing your footing," Aleksander noted, his voice smooth and calm as he seamlessly slipped his own blade back into his belt. "Rest. We are done for tonight."
Octavia gave an exhausted but appreciative nod, stepping back toward the edge of the clearing. As she moved to sit against a heavy log, a brilliant flash of color in the brush caught her eye.
Nestled in a patch of glowing moss was a vibrant, strange-looking flower. It was entirely alien to anything they had learned about in the Ark's Earth Skills classes. The bloom was wide open, giving it a vaguely sun-like appearance, but the colors were absolutely mesmerizing—the petals were cut through with vivid, electric hues of magenta and cyan that seemed to pulse gently in the dark.
Drawn by its sheer, otherworldly beauty, Octavia knelt down in the dirt. She slowly reached her hand out, her fingertips hovering just a fraction of an inch from the glowing bloom.
But the brutal lessons of the day—the acid fog, the mutated jaguar, the Grounder exiles—flashed in her mind. Everything on this planet was a weapon. She hesitated, her hand trembling slightly, before she finally pulled it back, resigning herself to caution.
"I guess..." Octavia muttered softly to herself, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "But it is so beautiful."
Aleksander stepped up quietly beside her, his boots making absolutely no sound on the forest floor. He looked down at the vibrant flower, his dark eyes reflecting the magenta glow, and then looked at Octavia.
"I will show you something," Aleksander said quietly.
He knelt gracefully beside her in the moss. Instead of reaching for the brightly colored petals, Aleksander reached lower. Drawing on the ancient, hidden Fey connection in his blood, he let a sliver of his magic seep into his fingertips. He didn't force the energy; he simply let his nature speak directly to the nature of the earth.
He lightly brushed the thick stem of the plant.
The alien flower reacted instantly to his subtle magic.
The magenta and cyan petals shivered, blooming even wider as they folded back to expose the core. With a soft, almost inaudible rustle, the plant released a thick, localized cloud of softly glowing, bioluminescent spores into the cool night air.
The tiny, floating lights drifted upward like a swarm of miniature, slow-moving fireflies, bathing the dark clearing in a warm, ethereal glow.
Octavia's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened in absolute awe as the tension, fear, and horror of the day completely melted away. The glowing spores danced playfully around her face, reflecting in her bright blue eyes and illuminating her amazed smile. She reached her hand out again, and this time, the harmless, glowing lights simply brushed against her skin like warm air.
She turned her head to look at Aleksander, who was watching the spores drift up into the canopy with a calm, entirely relaxed expression.
"How did you know it would do that?" Octavia asked, her voice a hushed whisper, afraid to break the spell of the beautiful moment.
Aleksander met her gaze, a faint, mysterious smirk playing on his lips. He gave a casual, effortless shrug.
"Magic."