What must it have been like in that moment, in those
milliseconds, as the golden light flashed in front of Clarke’s eyes before all
she was, good or evil, all that power she had, restrained or wild, suddenly
vanished? Staring into the eyes of someone she swore to defeat, the person she
was so confident against? And yet, while she thought of Clarke and that mere
blink where Rafael vaporized her, Brenda could not escape the thought that he
could just as easily have ended her as well.
She’d had her hands on the rut formed from her crash for a while. She’d managed
to get all the rubble together and create a small little healing square over
it. She just could move, couldn’t use her magic. Not physically incapable, but
she couldn’t will herself to it. She sat, hollow, staring at the broken bits of
ground while the red sky around her tumbled down and the blue skies of Rome
retook their place.