Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The girl wished things were different. Not a particularly extraordinary wish considering her circumstances, though. Orphans having a hard time was as sure as the sun setting, after all. Saints forbid it be different this time.

The grass rustled between her fingers. Wild and unkempt, it bent in camaraderie, it’s blades as rough as the tips of her calloused fingers.
Another day in life. She slipped through the field and looked back.

It’s not like the boy was trailing behind her. No-this time, the boy was far away from her. Home was far away from her too. The orphanage was no home of hers but that’s not what home meant to an orphan. Home was just another person and the boy was just that. Of course, she missed him. The terrible thing about home is that one day, you must leave it like a bird leaving its nest. That’s what this journey meant to this girl. She would travel onward, forward, and it would be daunting and lonely, but that wouldn’t scare her. She’d seen scarier things, after all. Ink painted the sky in a matter of minutes and she hastened her pace into the forest ahead. She held out a small light in her palm, blinking weakly at her. This girl could summon light - a major reason behind her decision to make this journey. She feared her power and adored it. It sent a shiver of fear and thrill into her heart when she summoned it. The girl knew that she could not separate from her power any longer. She was young but her age did not stop her from understanding that this power made her different. One small slip, one small lapse in control demonstrated that perfectly. Liberation and pain went hand in hand on that day.

It was clear she didn’t belong there anymore. Orphans don’t really belong anywhere, not truly. Of course, there was the matter of the boy, her adolescent home. She missed his warm smile dearly. He had wanted to come with her. It didn’t matter why she was doing this or where she was going. The boy wanted to go with her anyway.
This girl couldn’t do that to him, though. She refused to damn him to a life of persecution. He may be an orphan but his chances shone brighter than hers. She couldn’t keep his warmth all to herself; there were others that needed a home. He would thrive anywhere he went, she was sure of it.

She stepped onwards, light dancing in her palm. She willed it to leave and it followed the wish of its master. A deep breath filled and left her lungs as she quickened her pace. Darkness would be her company tonight and that was perfectly fine by her. Shouts echoed in the distance. They were after her. Monster or Saint, she could barely tell what they were shouting. Not that it mattered since monsters and saints often met the same fate in the end. They weren’t going to catch her, though.
Orphans knew the dark too well.

Chapter Text

Nine years later-

You can’t possibly expect something good to happen right after an explosion. I mean; not all of them were bad right off the start, but it mostly meant that someone was in trouble.
That someone was me.

Gunfire rattled through the walls of the building. Call it Kerch hospitality, but I’d suppose there was some reasoning behind their sudden hatred of these unassuming walls.
That reason was the idiot sitting next me.

“Listen, ‘Lina, there was no way I would have known”, pleaded Lorena. I clenched my teeth shut. We would save this conversation for later. Then I saw the hat; one that definitely belonged on the head of a clown.

“Where did that hat come from?” I hissed at her. Unbelievable. I wanted a hat too. She smiled sagely, as though revealing her wisdom would kill me on the spot.

I was going to ask her more but we were running out of wall to hide behind.

“Head to the roof. They’re all connected so you won’t have a problem getting to the harbour. eleven Grisha wait for you there, they will know to find you. Sturmhond’s crew is waiting for you so move fast."

Her eyes widened at first but were soon replaced with a wild grin.

“You’re staying?”

“Last time I checked, the job wasn’t done. I don’t leave jobs undone.”

The “job” here was to rescue enslaved Grisha in Kerch-one I willingly sought out. Justice didn’t seem like a terribly bad past time, not when it paid for my expenses too.
Lorena moved out of the room swiftly. The  hat fell to the ground and I didn’t have the heart to tell her. The gunfire ceased-and after taking a deep breath, I unsheathed my blades.

Leave none alive.

Forty minutes and several dead slave traders later, I stumbled my way into the harbour. The fight hadn’t been nearly as clean as I’d wanted it to be; my shoulder was stained crimson thanks to the nick of. a bullet. The good thing about my skill set was that I had learned to use it quickly. Showing my light would make for a deadly mistake, especially in a place like this; whispers of a sun summoner sat on the tongues of far too many these days.

I couldn’t hide it all, though-my blades glowed fervently when I used them but that was understood as fancy Grisha technology, not the work of a lightbringer. That news wouldn’t escape me either, since the ones that saw my blades unsheathed were dead soon after.

The ship was practically invisible in the night, but Sturmhond’s howling crew erased that advantage quite swiftly. I stepped onto the ship and Tolya was there to receive me. He cast a look on me and decided.

“The job is done.”

I nodded and walked past him, my hand patting his back lightly. The Squaller made a swift movement with her hands and we set sail.

“So what did our girl do this time?”, Tamar grinned at me. Lorena was grumbling in a corner.

“Opened fire at a local clown.”

“Bet he had it coming.”

“He probably did.”

My lips quirked up. Just another day in life. Sturmhond approached us and I stared at him to appreciate the pure ceremony of his existence. He was an eccentric man for sure, but a damn good pirate and little else mattered on these waters. He was an even better friend.

“Good work, Swiftling," He shouted even though I was two paces away from him. His nicknames for me changed every day and today I was Swiftling. An upgrade from Lovely, so I wasn’t complaining. I sharpened my focus on him. This wasn’t over yet. We had rescued the Grisha but Sturmhond was always mind numbingly vague with his intentions.

“We are setting the Grisha free, yes?” I asked tentatively. He noticed my tone and slapped my back, hard.

“I’m a man of my word, sweetheart. We drop them off at Os Kervo and they can choose their destinies from there. They might join the second army but if they wish to truly be free, Ravka may not be the best option for them.”

I nodded in understanding. My country needed its Grisha for the Second Army, purely made of Grisha soldiers. Children were tested at a young age and were taken to the Little Palace in Os Alta, Ravka’s capital. There they would train to become soldiers of the army; their ranks separated by their abilities.

The salt of the ocean brushed against my skin. This was routine; one I found great comfort in. On land, I always had to watch over my back, every man and woman suspicious, every step I made planned meticulously. The water didn't care who I was, though. It rippled underneath our ship with its quiet, dark power.

 My fingers caught onto the railing and I watched the lights on the land retreat into blinking dots.

It wasn't a terrible fate, being a Second Army soldier. The Grisha inside the walls of the Little Palace were well protected and the Second Army troops scattered across Ravka were strong enough to look out for themselves. 

People had always feared us for our powers. That much was clear from the very start-what else could you think about something that wasn't like you, that you couldn't understand? To make matters worse, the birth of the Shadow Fold secured a permanent sense of distrust in Grisha.

'It's because of their ilk.'

'Things were normal and then your lot came and doomed us all.'

We weren’t safe; neither before and especially not after the Fold. Enlisting in the Second Army wasn’t freedom, but it was power and security-not a bad deal for a persecuted minority.

I lounged in my cabin afterwards, kicking my boots off my bed. I had a choice to make in Os Kervo- and Os Kervo was approaching. I summoned a flicker of light into my palms, closing them shut. It was how I felt in a nutshell.

Sun Summoner. 

I didn't like the term. Alina Starkov was a thousand things before she was some duty-bound maiden born to destroy the Fold.

I didn't have to be the Sun Summoner. As far as the world was concerned, I was a no-name mercenary, ready to do the right thing for the right price. This mercenary had friends; she had a routine, a life she lived between water and land.

Before this, she was something else. And before that, something just as different. The steps retraced themselves all across Ravka and the girl that had made them was a girl no longer. 

No one could accuse me of having a boring life, that was for sure. My feet had taken me to places no man would have dared to venture. Mountainous caverns. Maze-like forests. The perennially cold Permafrost.

All these places, I had seen alone. Hid alone. Alone had been my only way of survival; the price I had to pay for my nature. The howling winds that echoed across the Permafrost still reached my ears at times. Those had been the darkest days of my life. The cold I had gotten used to; but the loneliness that had carved into my heart had left me shivering for more than one reason.

If it weren't for the visions, I would have died. 

A single man, haze all around him. Sometimes, the details showed themselves and sometimes they remained hidden and my imagination would have to fill the gaps. The strings on my heart strained against the influence of his pull, dragging me from my sleep into his reality. Oh, it was real-I could feel it in my bones.

How beautiful he was. 

He was my only solace, only he didn’t know it. He was part of why I had to return to Ravka. I knew I had to seek this man, beyond all sense of consequence and rationality.

Ravka waited for me. The responsibility I had worked so hard to avoid, the destiny that I had rejected- I could see it all from the edge of decision.

Home. Mal.

I wished I could dream of him, but I couldn’t. Would he be taller now? Probably not as tall as Tamar, but promising enough. I pictured him inside my head. The blue of his eyes..I swear I could see glimpses of in the blue of the candle fire. So pure, so unnervingly bright. His smile, warm and gentle like the small flame itself.

He probably wouldn’t forgive me.

I had to see him before I started my work. The recurring ache in my heart greeted me again, and I couldn't tell who it ached for.

I rolled out of the bed with a new determination. I was Alina Starkov. If my country needed saving, I would do exactly that. I didn't regret my power. I didn't regret who it made me. 

This was another job; a significantly larger one but a job nonetheless; and I never left a job undone.

Chapter Text

When we reached Os Kervo, I sat with the Grisha I had help rescue in the long cabin. They had gone numb with emotion; too many things to feel at the same time. Tolya stood by my side and if he were more aware of his imposing frame, he would realise that he looked a bit terrifying to the others in the room.

“We have arrived at Os Kervo." My voice was gentle but firm. "Your freedom is yours and you may do as you wish with it. Ravka requires their Grisha to join the Second Army, but you could lie low and still live a peaceful life. Wherever you wish to go from here, Sturmhond will grant you free passage.”

Trepidation hung in the air. I felt their suspicion, I saw a few dare to feel relief. A mousy girl stood up, legs trembling.

“Some of us would like to stay with the crew. The others want to fight for Ravka”, she declared. Judging by her loudness, I could assume she was an Inferni.

“Those who wish to stay with the crew may speak with Sturmhond about it. Those who wish to stay in Ravka may leave now.”

Six Grisha shuffled out of the room; a surprising number. Freed slaves preferred to live the rest of their lives that way-free. However, this country was home to these Ravkans and the Second Army promised respect and dignity to every Grisha that joined its ranks.

This was my cue to leave. I moved towards the exit, swords and bag equipped, only to find the rest of the crew waiting for me there. Tamar laced her arm around my waist and squeezed.

“We’ll miss you, girl.” Her smile nearly faltered but held on for my sake. I kissed her on her forehead.

Sturmhond managed a fake sniffle and his muddy eyes managed to glisten in cooperation.

"You leave us today, Sweetling, but may rejoin us whenever you so choose.”

I smiled at his offer. They were a ruthless ragtag crew but wouldn't forego an opportunity to help the ones that asked for it. Tolya engulfed me in a hug that I could swear cracked a good number of my ribs. 

Goodbyes were exchanged and soon, I was walking into the strangely familiar chaos of Os Kervo. Sturmhond had a contact that arrived to the harbour to receive the new Second Army recruits. He wore a dark blue kefta and gave Sturmhond a sharp bow, which confused me. He never said he would do any of that..even after years together, I could barely claim that I knew my friend.

The ache in my chest told me that I missed Lorena already. I knew she had made her choice to stay with Sturmhond and the rest for now. We spoke nothing over it but she had greeted me that morning with a tight hug. Knowing her, she’s off to her home in Fjerda, kindling the fire for a revolution. Saints knew that their Grisha needed one.

Os Kervo was a staggeringly large city. All the port cities held stations of importance for West Ravka; and like all cities, the larger ones hid its crimes better. This was still a nation where Grisha were being sold into slavery or worse, abducted and murdered by the Fjerdans. 

The bar at the inn actually smelled like alcohol, which surprised me. I had heard that shortages had become more common in Os Kervo as of late. I listened in on the locals, cradling a drink in my hand. Wherever the place, I preferred know what the people are saying with alcohol in their systems. It was a truth potion of sorts.

“Rations running low again, as usual. Our men only have scraps to deal with “, a soldier complained. “I doubt my wife would recognise me when I get back home.”

“Probably isn’t the only reason she wouldn’t recognise you, mate”, another said loudly. A few whacks on the back later, the soldiers chattered on. They looked worn out but their eyes gave no such indication, ready to enjoy the evening ahead of them. A man had seated himself next to me. He waved his hand at the barkeep and a drink made its way to him in seconds, exposing him as a regular. 

“Pretty women shouldn’t travel alone, you know." A lazy smile stretched over his face as his eyes surveyed my state. He was flirting, but his intention didn’t seem sinister.

“I have some relatives nearby I’m here to see so no, I can’t say I’m alone.” I took his amused silence as an opportunity and pressed on.

“It’s been a while since I’ve come here and you seem to hang around here a lot. Tell me, how have things changed?” I asked.

“Well,” he gulped his drink in one go and slammed it on the table. “Those damn Grisha parade about now and then in their fancy coats, that crazy sun religion is on the rise and our side of the country grows poorer and poorer. Can’t imagine much else going on, though.” He sighed but braced himself to speak. He had more to say.

“The whole country waits for some Sun person to magically fix their problems and destroy the Unsea. Well, parts of the country anyway. Hope is a dangerous thing to sell, young lady. It isn’t clear who’s selling it but the King’s whacked up priest may have something to do with it.”

The Apparat. Didn’t seem like a lovely person to begin with-his ridiculous words echoing every other church I had visited, but it looks like he’d been busy for the past few years. Probably my fault, that one.

“Don’t trust those things”, I told him. “Keep living your life, don’t hold your breath for any blessed saviours.” He laughed and then signalled for another drink.

“Again, you’re too pretty to be travelling alone, girl. People can disappear from anywhere, its the reappearing that’s unlikely”, he barked. A few eyes turned to us.

Too loud. Too loud for my comfort and too loud for his safety. I bid him goodbye and retired to my room upstairs.

“This is going to be dangerous”, I mumbled to myself. My plans always toed the line between thrilling and reckless. My calmer days had seen cold, ruthless executions of carefully laid out plans but Sturmhond's crew had made their mark on me. I would seek Mal out. He’d definitely be the First Army, I couldn't imagine someone of his talents being wasted to labour over fields. I would have to be patient about the search; he could be stationed anywhere, but something told me that I would find him.

I briefly envisioned his face, his eyes meeting mine. My eyelids closed and sleep pulled me into dark depths. A dreamless sleep was a good one but they hadn't been dreamless in a very long time. My heart ached a dull, distant ache and I wondered if I would dream of Mal now, now that that I was closer to him. I felt the pull and it dragged my consciousness to the room I could see now.

Same place. Same dream. Not exactly the same though, and not exactly a dream either. This was a vision, a trance of sorts-one that I rationalised for the loneliness it quelled.

My focus sharpened and I saw the familiar war room that housed a certain individual. Intricate maps littered the walls and the marbled floor was cold to my feet. The ache in my heart turned sharper, but I wasn’t surprised. This always happened. Everything that happened here was almost routine for me. I would feel the pull and follow, and these familiar scenes would unravel in front of my eyes.

A single man stood over the large round table, maps and intricate pieces standing on them. Military positions. I looked at him and not much had changed about him. The warm light bounced off his dark hair, a stray strand falling onto his forehead as he leaned over. His fingers traced an area on the map, his cold gaze following it. I was transfixed as usual.

My shadow man was always severe in his beauty. It embarrassed me to call him mine but when you dream of one person exclusively, you tend to understand them as yours in way. His black kefta seemed a void unto itself, intricate black embroidery curling around its form like a vine. His slate grey eyes were as cold and true as ever. Of course, I already knew this.

When I was a child, it unnerved me to see this man who could not see me. He was just a man to me, a stranger, almost a friend, and his busy life intrigued me. I would see him in camps, in his chambers, in lavish rooms. Always thinking, always planning. The details never reached my ears, no. I was too drawn in on his almost unnatural beauty to notice something as insignificant in comparison as military strategy. He was a painting in a gallery that I visited every now and then. My favourite painting. My company.

When I was older, I understood who this man was. These were definitely not dreams. The Darkling was the feared General of the Second Army. I wasn’t too sure it was him as I hadn’t seen him in person, but the description and his surroundings convinced me of the man's identity. This man was rumoured to be the strongest Grisha Ravka had seen in centuries-I certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone that my dreams had me materialise in his bedroom at times. And that my heart quite literally ached for this cruel stranger.

The pain in my heart grew sharper and gasp escaped my lips.

Something unexpected happened then.

He looked up to stare at me.

Chapter Text

My stupid heart. This was trouble, big trouble. I had breached a lion's den and now, the lion was aware of my presence. The air held the sharpened suspense of a fateful meeting and a bone-chilling confrontation. My body couldn't decide how to react.

I wasn’t entirely sure that he had noticed met me and I instructed my limbs to move about to check-but he didn’t give me that opportunity. Darkness spilled into the air, closing us into a cage of smoke. He remained across the table, confusion and anger in his quartz eyes. The power that emanated from him leaked into the room’s atmosphere and weighed on me squarely. I clutched my chest, gasping.

“I promise, I mean you no harm”, I choked out. This seemed to amuse him somehow.

“You’re here again.” He stated matter-of- factly. Fear would have gripped me, reaching until the tips of my fingers by now-but that wasn’t the priority of my heart. Confusion was.

Again? He knew? The room seemed to spin around me now. I was still asleep but this was clearly no dream. What would happen if I were caught?

“How long have you known?”, I asked, my voice coming out mouse-like. It was his pressure that did this to me. His expression was almost unreadable but years of observation taught me what he looked like when he imagined himself smiling lightly on the inside.

“I have felt your presence for years, but this would be the first time I've laid my eyes upon you.”

Should I ask him if I looked like what he had expected? I shook my head slightly. I was reduced to a little girl in front of him, which didn’t help form my rationale.

“I have so many questions to ask you. You couldn’t possibly imagine.” My heart strings pulled, again. “My heart needs me to find you, I know so little of you but so much at the same time.” I was leaning towards the table without realising. I had never understood this strange magnetism to begin with, but was more than willing to be consumed by it. We were talking. My painting spoke to me. There was so much for us to speak about.

“Are you, perhaps..” His gaze stayed on me, as entranced as I was. I nodded mutely. Somehow, I’d understood what he was looking to confirm.

This would land me in so much trouble. Unbelievable amounts of trouble. The Second Army needed me. Ravka needed me. While I had every intention to do my duty, I wasn't confident what they would make of a girl that had been scurrying about the country, risking death while being the only Grisha that could summon light. They could brand me a traitor; make me their prisoner or worse, their puppet. My mind was split between wanting to destroy the Fold from a place of obscurity and needing to meet the man of my dreams-and I knew that I couldn't have both.

The words that left my mouth next would change things.

“I’m the Sun Summoner.”

The Darkling’s smooth expression betrayed a hint of elation. My heart; was sick of noticing it, struggled against my ribcage, filled with emotion that I had inherited from an unknown place. I hated this. I hated what I couldn’t understand and what I couldn’t understand was my connection with this shadowed man. My legs moved without command, dragging me across the room with every heavy step.

I had to get closer.

I held my palms together and my light answered my call; pale streams of ribbons flowed through the cracks of the door and settled on my palms. I willed them to burst into a thousand rays, dissolving the shadows that surrounded us.

He watched motionlessly and the light reflected on his eyes, glistening.

Even closer.

The walk around the table was almost painful, an invisible force resisting every step I took. Perhaps this was the limitation of this trance, perhaps he was resisting me without knowing it. I paced up to him, the wait agonising, my bones as heavy as my heart. The pain never stopped.

We were all but a feet apart now. I looked up at him, his cold eyes piercing mine. The familiarity of his darkness comforted and disturbed me simultaneously, leaving an unsettling feeling in the pits of my stomach. 

When I felt the pull in the opposite direction, relief rushed in. The intensity of my situation had me wishing for a means of escape. His eyes widened in surprise and he reached towards my arm, perhaps as an attempt to capture me.

“I swear, I’ll come and find you”, I promised.

With a snap, I woke up.

My breathing eased when I took the surroundings I had returned to; a simple room in one of Os Kervo's many, many inns. Obscure. Safe. My feet curled on the woollen rug on the floor, fingers gripping on the edge of my mattress.

Now, I had exposed myself in the most dangerous way. If running from my duty as the Sun Summoner had been difficult, slipping my way back into the responsibilities that belonged to me was infinitely harder if not impossible. I had set the wheel in motion-now I would have to think faster, move faster-all towards the man I had probably enraged by evading for years on end. This meeting, this confrontation was now inevitable and I cursed the part of my heart that still felt giddy with anticipation. Another realisation crashed into my conciousness, filling my body with dread.

Mal. I was such a fool.

I had meant to find Mal but the process would be hindered by two armies that would soon learn what I looked like.
When I swore I would go to him, I had meant every word. The warmth of the furnace in my room seemed to laugh at the chill that had placed itself in my body, as though it knew that my burden ensured that I could never peacefully belong to this  room. Os Kervo would learn to do without me; in fact it would never know that I had walked its streets.

My restless fingers worked my hair into the form of a braid; an old habit. This was what I had wanted but now, I had to keep up with the sequence of events that would unfold because of my actions. I had a lot of work to do.

No fear. This was another job and I was Alina Starkov. The girl that had fled Ravka would flee no longer.

This was my purpose; and I would embrace it before it swallowed me whole.

The midday sun stood above our heads; hot enough to border a sharp chill. My element filled me with energy, filling me to the brim with an aliveness that darkness could never bring. The bustling crowds moved like a swarm of bees, all working on the cogs that ran the heart of this city. People brushed past me and I moved against their flow; I would have to get out of here as soon as possible.

It was common knowledge that Novokribirsk was the main centre for collecting rations through the Fold. I would accept this as a lead to find Mal, as opposed to accepting that I hadn't the faintest idea as to where he might be.

When we were younger, Mal had been an incredibly gifted tracker; always finding a rabbit that he could share with me, even in the darkest forest. If his instincts hadn't dulled, there was a fair chance that he would be a First Army tracker-there was no way they would let a person like Mal avoid enlistment.

My pace quickened at the thought of my lead. A hasty, half-baked lead, but it would suffice for now. Whether it would suffice to find a boy who probably found things for a living, I had no idea.

The people that passed me weren't all from here; Os Kervo was an important city for trade and transportation. The strangers were the ones who carried themselves slower, with hesitant gaits and shifting eyes, taking in the busyness that the city had to offer. Travelling had never been easy for me. My days in Ravka had me underneath hooded cloaks with multiple names I introduced myself with. To the extremes of nature that protected my secret, I was Alina Starkov, a girl that could summon sunlight. In the wilderness, far beyond the reach of human eyes, I was honest. 

I hid well in a crowd, though. My abilities included a trick that could turn me invisible-a young girl's desperation turned reflex, but it came with its own risks. A single slip, a single man witnessing a girl materialise out of thin air, sunlight on her skin could place me in a spot of trouble.

Would this General, this Darkling, hurt me if he found me? My instincts told me that he wouldn't, the truth of our connection was that until yesterday, it was painfully one sided. Him sensing me couldn't hold a candle to what he had meant to me all these years.

There’s no reason for him to not hurt me. The argument played out in my mind as I moved into the quieter, less crowded parts of the city-buildings decreasing in size and importance. This was the way out.

I was a Sun Summoner, probably The Sun Summoner- which would ideally grant me some form of immunity. They couldn't throw me into a cell in Tsibeya if they wanted the Fold gone.

I would also make for the world’s most valuable hostage. This seemed a little more likely than the former idea and I wondered what Sturmhond would have made of it if he had realised what I was.

I slipped between spaces when the path had cleared into an expanse of idle fields; the city far behind me now. The sun's now gentle rays kept me company as I flashed onwards, moving a lot faster that I would on foot. Using my power even in its weakest context filled me with a happiness; like that of a caged bird that could soar the skies again. Freedom was a precious commodity and the slightest taste of it left me wanting to show more, reveal more. I ached to be more of what I was.

I found an elderly birch to rest underneath. The short grass tickled my neck and the cattle looked at me as though I was a mildly interesting animal. Whether I belonged to this pastoral scene or not was irrelevant; this was another place that didn't care about what I was. I wasn’t enough to hold the animals' attention, and they soon returned to their leisurely grazing. Was a herder nearby? Perhaps they knew the way home themselves-an admirable talent.

Whatever sunlight remained streamed through the leaves and rested on my face gently, inspiring me to relax further. I loved warmth and when I wasn't at sea, I tried to find a place underneath the rustling of trees. Ravkan summers were cruelly short. My fingers raked through the grass, taking in the sharpness of each blade. It seemed like an eternity ago where Mal and I would lay on fields, hand in hand. I had protected him fiercely then; throwing every punch at the boys that would pick on him. We didn’t have it that bad, though. Childhood turned our short summers eternal with the cool water of the stream tickling our feet, the ponds we’d skip stones across, the fruits we’d steal and the places we’d hide.

I was a child then. There was no name for what I was now; I was the culmination of the worst and most vivid experiences of my life, absolute power and absolute weakness. I couldn’t help but wonder if Mal had changed too. Had my escape made him bitter, my absence made him colder? Has he forgotten me? 

Would he recognize me now?

Darkness had started to bleed from the horizon. I glanced at the retreating cows, a cue for me to get moving. Hunger would have to wait for my destination. I got up, adjusted my gear and moved onwards.

Human civilization blinked at me a few hours later. The smallest houses were always on the outskirts; scattered amongst agricultural fields. I heaved a sigh.

Reaching Novokribirsk was just the beginning of a very winded journey-possibly across the country. Mal was my priority; the Fold and my shadowed man could afford to wait a little longer.

My legs felt the first wave of tiredness as I treaded past the fields of corn. I would rest someplace safe and break into the Army camps the next morning. If Mal was listed in a regiment there, I would find him.

I knew better than to rely on the kindness of others, but I found myself on the doorstep of a lone farmhouse regardless. The lady of the house would be greeted by a weary traveller, probably twenty years of age, seeking shelter. This was, again, stupid, considering the whole country could be searching for this weary idiot traveller. Somehow, I trusted the comfort of believing the harsh politics and fearsome marching of the First and Second armies wouldn’t reach this small farmhouse on the edge of Novokribirsk. It looked too quaint, too lovely to be tarnished by strife. What I didn't trust was what they would make of my appearance; my twin longswords could be grounds for worry.

I stashed them behind the building and made my way to its entrance.

The woman welcomed me in warmly. I told her of my need for shelter and offered good compensation in coin. She gladly obliged and I found myself a warm bath, a change of clothes and a bed. Overall, a much better idea than sleeping by a large pile of rocks.

I washed myself in a stone bath; fingers drawing out the tangles of my hair. It had gotten a lot longer while I was out in Kerch. I held the ends gingerly, wondering if I should cut it. I would take my host’s opinion on that when I joined her for dinner.

“Saints forbid, girl! Dark hair isn’t too common around here”, she smiled at me. I could tell she wanted to ask where I was from and what brought me here, but her own politeness stopped her. “And long-haired girls are always considered more lovely.”

Well that wasn’t fair. No one was judging a short haired boy for being ‘less lovely’ now, were they?

I nodded and smiled back. 

"How do you find life here?" I asked. I would take every opportunity to understand West Ravka's current state. Her eyes lost their warmth at my question, but her easygoing smile remained.

"It is simple and difficult. We have no shortage of food but what good is a field of corn when the children I wished to care for are no longer with me?" 

That could mean two things.

"Are they Grisha?" The kind lady laughed at my question but I could see that the grip on her fork had tightened considerably.

"I thank the saints that they aren't. My sons are part of the First Army, dear." She tucked a strand of her straw hair behind her ear. "I don't think I could have survived having Grisha for children." 

Her jovial tone barely disguised her resentment. Grisha were once feared, now tolerated in Ravka. A Grisha child would be sent away immediately to Os Alta to train at the Little Palace; the Second Army was the closest thing to a family that they would get.

But what was it that she resented? The fact that Grisha children were collected by the Second Army or that there were Grisha to begin with? 

This question answered itself quickly.

"Are you..Grisha?" Her eyes searched mine with suspicion.

How tempted I was to show her then. 

"No." Her expression relaxed and the easy conversation returned.

The next morning I was already on my way, quaint farmhouse far behind me. I hadn't forgotten to collect my swords from their hiding spot-I dusted their scabbards with the fabric of my coat as an apology. There was quite away left until Novokribirsk, and I wouldn't stop until the village closest to it.

Chapter Text

“Lady, you ought to be careful,” the apple-cheeked boy teased. His freckles rippled with his mischievous smile. A few of his friends raced past the field of dancing wildflowers, all tiny shouts and giggles.

“I’ll take your advice,” I told him. His playing wasn’t putting my life at risk, but he’d insisted on warning me off anyway. He imitated a sweeping bow and ran after his friends, arms flailing. Something about the way his hands moved the air around him, small ripples in the gentle breeze, told me that he was Grisha. This boy would play for now and know the company of his friends, but when the time came, a different world would await him in Os Alta.

Did Grisha not deserve simple childhoods? Or lives, for that matter? 

An idyllic village stood across the chattering streams; this would be my last stop before Novokribirsk. I walked past the woven fences, admiring the small gardens that they guarded, only to stop and answer a few curious locals as to who I was. They probably didn’t get a lot of visitors, but their probing gazes suggested that they were looking for something more than my name.

“Where you from?” A stout man regarded me with gun-metal eyes.

“Ortesk.”

His severe gaze broke a few seconds after he’d heard my answer.

“My brother as well.” His shoulders relaxed and he gave the flaxen haired woman, probably his sister, a short nod. She took my arm with easy grace, guiding me into the rest of the village. A deep breath left my lips; whatever their test had been, I had passed it.

“Irina is a lovely name,” she remarked lightly. I smiled at the compliment; names were masks and this mask was called Irina. We passed the houses made of roughly hewn pine, patches of vegetables and a marketplace made of stone. Life here was slow, and the people here preferred for it to stay that way. A few men were setting up the banners of their stalls; discussing the news of day.

The only thing that felt out of place was the small gathering of mothers outside a stone building. Clinging to their arms and their dresses were their children, small and boisterous. The women didn’t share their outlook.

My companion noticed my gaze. “The children will to be tested by Grisha today,” she said. “Naturally, everyone is nervous.” Her nonchalant tone disguised her antipathy well, but the soured look on her face gave her away.

“It must be heartbreaking for a mother to be parted from her child like that,” I said, testing the waters. She smiled at that, shaking her head slightly.

“But they aren’t children, are they?” My jaw clenched at her words. “They’re creatures; they may look like us and talk like us, but the similarities end there.” There it was; the attitude that my earlier host had worn effortlessly-these people would be no different. I disguised my anger when she turned her head to look at me.

“You see our men there?” She gestured to the men at the marketplace; their earlier smiles had left their faces, their eyes now intently studying the children in front of the building across them. Like animals assessing their young for weaknesses.

“We are a small village, Irina. A peaceful one. We have kept this peace for centuries and what we have learned is that if they are among us, there is always fear.” Her smooth voice delivered her casual bigotry succinctly.

“And what about that?” I gestured to the church that loomed in front of us. What did their faith dictate?

“I will show you soon,” she replied. We approached the sidelines, where the village folk had gathered to witness the Grisha testing. The woman leaned in to whisper to a friend, and her cerulean eyes surveyed mine.

“Passing by?” I nodded. She returned to exchanging whispers with the woman and I observed the spectacle ahead of me. The mothers took the children inside and a dozen village men followed. My eyes furrowed at the sight. Why would they go in? Where were the Grisha examiners?

“We like to check, you know.” My companion told me. “A day before the Grisha come, we like to know which ones of our own are, well, ours.” My blood ran cold at the admission. What would happen if a child let a spark fly out of their hands? Or push a toy with air?

Would all these children be here the next day?

I turned around at the scenery that surrounded us; suddenly, the quaintness of this village had earned a sinister edge. The easygoing smiles of the villagers masked their paranoia, their chilling hatred, the claws between their knuckles that could tear up their own children for being different than them. I thought about the Grisha child I had seen earlier; did he know that his own mother would look at him like this soon?

My hands resisted the urge to reach for the swords underneath my cloak. But how could he? He was a child; he was all innocence and love. He hadn’t learned how to resent his own existence yet, he hadn’t learned the unflinching hatred of this world. Dread settled in the pits of my stomach, followed by a sting of shame. With all my abilities, what I had truly done for my people?

My guide took me into the stone-walled church later that afternoon.

The path stood between rows of pews; a few people scattered amongst them. Scented smoke swirled into the air from four corners and the angular ceiling had been inlaid with coloured glass. Light streamed through from above and painted the stone floor with several shades of yellow. The air was damp enough to raise a few ends of my hair.

What caught my attention had me frozen in place for a few moments.

An emblazoned sun stood central to the back wall; made of what looked like hammered bronze. I studied the place again and noticed the subtle references to the sun; rays carved onto pillars, the yellowed glass above our heads and the paintings on the back of the entrance doors that had been closed as soon as we’d entered. A chill ran up my spine and my arms wrapped themselves instinctively.

This faith.. this faith dictated that-

“The world was always us and them.” My companion seemed to recite from memory. Her arms left mine and she walked towards the dais. I followed.

“Nature reigns supreme,” she said. “And amongst the Grisha that manipulate the elements,” she said manipulate like it was a dirty word, “one has been set apart by the saints above.”

My legs urged me to bolt out of this place immediately. Everything about this felt wrong, jarring, far too much for my mind to currently handle.

“The Sun will send its daughter to do what it does every day; dispel the darkness in Ravka.”

The room spun underneath my feet; and I could barely register that the murmured prayers of the devotees had grown into a loud chorus, all words in Old Ravkan. Nausea rose like a steady tide, waiting to engulf me entirely. I had already known about this; but to witness it in person after all this time-the burden on my shoulders felt like it had increased a thousandfold. This was hope. I was hope.

Every charming corner of this place had turned haunted in my eyes by the time night had fallen. I searched the inn’s narrow hall for any trace of faith and soon enough, I found streaked rays, lined to suggest the sun, painted on the centre of the table’s surface. My host was an elderly woman; the mother of the two villagers I had met this morning. She rambled through light-hearted stories but paused when she noticed my fingers tracing the painting on the table.

“I have seen it myself, child,” she rasped. My body numbed itself in an instant, a reflex against words I’d rather not hear. Reality had split between us; what I had been and what she might have witnessed were two separate things that could never confront each other. She had the pleasure of not knowing this, but I had never been so lucky.

I assumed that she had wanted to break into narration, but she asked me a question instead.

“Do you believe?”

I closed my eyes to escape the intensity of hers, half tempted to fall back into the chair and drag myself to the ground.

These people dared to hate Grisha and worship the idea of me with the same breath. A dark thought flitted across my mind as I briefly considered setting their church ablaze, just to see whether they would kneel down to me or grab their rifles and broadswords. I imagined tearing down their pretty facade, right down until the ugliness that lurked underneath it. People were dangerously fickle, weren’t they?

Was I not like them in that aspect?

“I don’t know.”

Before I had left, the elderly woman had handed me a parting gift; a small wooden charm, carved to resemble the sun. I gave her my thanks and pocketed it. Something compelled me to say goodbye to the boy I had seen yesterday, but when I retraced my steps to the field, I realised that he had probably been taken by the Grisha Examiners by now. My mind was unwilling to consider alternatives to that theory.

Novokribirsk was ahead now; my work ahead was enough to keep my legs occupied and my mind on alert.

Chapter Text

The odd magnetism in my blood told me that I would find Mal soon. An hour in, I received confirmation that I had arrived at Novokibirsk. Beyond the rocky terrain, at the foot of its incline, stood a First Army encampment.

The gravel rumbling underneath my feet told me that there were Grisha present as well. I moved closer to observe and eyed a few Squallers in their dark blue keftas, dust gathering around them in currents as they trained. They must be somewhat powerful if they can make the gravel reverberate.

I realised that it had been just one of them when I witnessed a single figure pick up a large boulder with a swirls of air and smash it into the ground. Perhaps they were throwing a fit-I couldn’t tell from this distance. I closed the gap, staying behind the boulders that littered the path.

I crept in as close as I could, memorising  the layout of the place; soldiers skittered from one place to another, in and out of their tents. Some were undergoing training drills, running back and forth in the sweltering heat. The sun stood above me, signalling me to make my move now-when my refraction was most effective.

Walking into a military encampment is as fun as it sounds. The light that gathered around me now concealed my presence.I moved swiftly across dozens of men marching across the field with the reminder that the effect wouldn't last long. A handful of map makers scrambled across and into a large tent to receive instructions. When I could regain my ability, I decided to give them some company.

I gently stepped into the tent. They might not be able to see me, but they could hear me just fine-and probably wouldn't appreciate that a ghost had found its way into their space. When I studied their olive coats, a part of me wanted to find a spare uniform I could change into. I could vaguely recall that impersonating a military cadet or officer was a criminal offence but then again, it would only be criminal if I got caught. Lorena would agree with that sentiment.

I decided against it in the end. I would rather be revealed a stray citizen than an imposter soldier. That made sense. Then I took the uniform anyway.

The rest of the day, I scoured for Mal. The only important information I had uncovered was that the 16th regiment would cross the Fold tomorrow. Another was that there was no mention of finding the Sun Summoner. Did the Darkling trust the promise I made him? If I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t. Perhaps I would hitch a ride to Kibirsk and plan the rest of my journey from there.

I could also walk into the Fold, albeit the journey being significantly more dangerous. The very thing that tied me to my responsibilities as the Sun Summoner managed to liberate me with its darkness at the same time. The Fold was my mentor and my enemy; I had gained most of my powers during the time I spent in it. As limitless as it had made me feel, its darkness weighed on my heart even now.

Frustration set in when I placed myself on higher ground, overseeing the entire camp. Mal was nowhere to be found, although I hadn’t covered even half the place yet. My fingers trailed across the dirt to find some gravel to throw. The sun was sinking and with it, my chances of finding Mal here.

Would he even want me to find him? Did any of this matter? Shame pricked at my skin; I had broken into an encampment of soldiers to find a boy that may as well have forgotten me. The only thing I was sure of was that he was alive and my selfishness pushed me to search for him, regardless of whether it was what we needed.

Night fell sooner than I’d anticipated; sinking sun no longer in sight. I wandered around camp more freely as the atmosphere loosened significantly, losing its practiced rigidity. My newly acquired uniform helped me now but walking alone seemed to convince a few eyes to follow my movements. I followed the crowd of a Soldiers filtering into the largest tent in the encampment and decided not to miss out-this was a chance to learn if they were looking for me.

Instead, the announcements were of names for tomorrow’s crossing. I could feel rippling nervousness in the crowd, filled with murmurs of trepidation. A few names in prompted me to wonder why I was here at all. I would have to prepare for my trip across the Fold-if Mal wasn't here, he would be in the second largest encampment at Kirbirsk. At least, that's what instinct guided me to believe.

There were so many things for me to do once I’d crossed; so many moves to calculate and here I was, playing dress up for a boy from the distant past. I turned to leave, slipping through the anxious crowd until I heard:

“Malyen Oretsev, tracker.”

The world could have ended right there. A small group at the corner of the tent murmured, patting the back of the man in the middle of them. I moved, or at least I thought I’d moved. I was still there, my eyes straining to see the man whose name was called.

Mal.

I was right about him getting taller.
His brown hair was cropped and his blue eyes burned just as I’d recalled. Crossing the Fold was a death wish, I quickly realised. I couldn’t let him die there. I waited behind the tent, lurking for Mal’s sake. I wanted to talk to him. I had to talk to him. This was a perfectly sound, unselfish decision.

Or it wasn’t.

I wasn’t going to wait to contemplate that, though. I had pushed the wheels of fate and now they turned with haste, rolling from circumstance to another. Mal was and is a part of my life. The same heart I had followed out to the world, I followed back to Ravka. To Mal.

The Fold wasn’t going to destroy itself. The weight of this responsibility was felt familiar on my shoulders. It was hard to regret what had happened to me. Some were choices I had made and others were corners I had been forced into as a child.

If I was weak; if I was a coward then, I certainly wasn't one now. Ravka called to me, My shadowed man called to me..My fate beckoned me forward, daring me to embrace it. Mal was a small part of the equation.

Small but crucial.

I managed to corner my childhood friend soon enough. He had strayed further away from the encampment for what I could assume was a night of drinking-although considering how handsome he had gotten, a fair amount of debauchery could be involved. I grabbed his arm and he spun around, ready to defend himself. His eyes widened when they met mine.

Another moment between moments, one that placed my heart in my throat.

“Saints, Alina, is that you?” He rasped.

I nodded, a small smile playing on my face. This was no boy of mine. I felt the muscle beneath the fabric of his coat and studied his expression. 

Definitely not a boy.

“Not here," I told him. "Let’s go someplace secure.”

Not a word was spoken. Mal followed me as I led him to the boulders I was observing the field from. I turned back and he wordlessly crushed me in a hug. A laugh escaped my lips, loud and clear. I had missed him so dearly. This was my warmth, my home; everything that I longed for but could never truly replace.

“I was worried that you’d died”, he shouted his chest rumbling against my ear.

“Did you really think I’d be dead?” I looked up to grin at him.

A moment passed. “Nah.”
I laughed again. Mal stepped away from me, eyes hardened now.

“Are you safe now?”

This was Mal’s way of asking ‘do you still have those cursed powers that made people want to capture you?'

I shook my head. “It only gets worse from here, Mal. I returned to Ravka to face it.”

Mal looked angry now. My heart warmed at the gesture; how lucky was I that he could still feel anger for me?

“Why the hell did you come back then, Alina? You know what they’ll do to you if they catch you, right?”

“It has to be done, Mal.” I took his hand, sending a shudder across his body. "I ran. I ran from Keramzin, I ran from persecution; I ran from my fate and I ran from you. I’m done running, Mal. I’m so much stronger- stronger than you’ve ever seen. I can save Ravka.”

He eyed me like one does a martyr. Anger. Sorrow. Pity.

“I don’t care where you’ve been, Alina. I’m coming with you.” A young boy’s declaration. My heart swelled and a part of me wanted to never part from him ever again.

I shook my head. “If I don’t get executed for being a heretic, I will have to join the Second Army’s ranks. There’s no place for you there, Mal.”

His shoulders deflated at my rejection and bitterness flashed across his face.

“I get it, I get that we’re different. But you don’t have to do this, Alina. You owe Ravka nothing. We could run away”, his eyes brightened at the idea. “We’ll sail somewhere far away, start anew. Just say the word and we’ll go.”

Tears threatened to well in my eyes. My concern for Mal hating me seemed so foolish now. Some bonds can never be broken.

“No, Mal. This is my purpose now. I promise I won’t die doing something stupid though”, I added. He grumbled what sounded like a “that’s promising, coming from you."

We walked back in silence. Perhaps Mal didn't believe that I could handle myself but I knew that he could feel it. I knew it from the way he looked at me from the corner of his eyes; like I was something he didn't quite understand. What made my chest constrict was the flicker of fear I saw reflected in his eyes when I showed him a few sparks of light.

We talked for hours on end. Mal filled me in on his life as a Tracker; his friends, possible girlfriends, Grisha he was too afraid to tumble and all the things I had missed out on. We talked of Keramzin and the face Ana Kuya would make if she saw us; we would eternally be brats in her eyes, that was for sure. We spoke of everything except my mission to reach The Little Palace and his to cross the Fold tomorrow.

His arm circled around my waist and I leaned into his familiar warmth. I felt the reluctance of his fingers to part from mine; I had barely begun telling him my stories of Ketterdam and Sturmhond's rowdy crew. The words I couldn't tell him lingered at the back of my throat. I was going to tag along the skiff to watch out for him as he crossed the Fold. I huffed a small laugh when I imagined his reaction if I had told him-every bone in his body would be opposed to the idea and I'd never heard the end of it.

And yet, he would have run into the Fold if the roles had been reversed. After we parted, I managed to find a place to rest- this time I couldn't avoid the rocks.

At dawn, I watched as the camp prepared for the sendoff. A dreadful silence filled the air and the soldiers braved the grim circumstances to continue with their routines. Nausea introduced itself with the thought that if I had destroyed the Fold, this scene wouldn't exist and Mal's life wouldn't be endangered now.

Beyond the docks, I took in the appearance of the Fold for the first time in years; my eyes had averted from its menacing presence as an act of self defense; the Fold was a grim reminder of what I had to overcome alone. The wooden panels creaked underneath my boots and I moved out of sight, far enough to stand unnoticed.

I had never protected a sand skiff through the Fold before-despite having survived inside it for months. Technically I would only need to protect Mal, but it would seem rude to waste more lives to the Fold. Despite my nonchalance to it, I disliked unnecessary violence. Mal had no idea what I was truly capable of and if the journey went well, he would remain oblivious.

The sand skiff would leave in about an hour, I presumed. Mal would have noticed that I was missing by now; did he think I had run away again?  I stared into the swirling darkness of the Fold in an attempt to visualise what stood across it. My heart ached an all too familiar ache.

He was waiting for me on the other side.

I wasn't going to think about that now. This was the complicated part of my plan that I'd prefer to store in the back of my head at all times. The task ahead was to protect the skiff. And make it out alive. That too.

I removed my cloak, hands on the hilts of my longswords. The sequence of events would be this: I would slip from the docks into the void filled with Volcra. I would then wait for the painfully slow sand skiff to slide its way into the fold and track it. Then, I would create loud distractions and draw the attention of the Volcra surrounding the skiff. I would kill the Volcra. We would make it out alive.

Perhaps I should have planned more.

"No matter”, I sighed. Mal's life was at stake. That was motivation enough.

And with that thought, I flashed into the fold.

Chapter Text

Flashing always sent a chill up my spine. The body experiences some amount of shock when moving that fast and mine was no exception. A numbing sensation quickly crawled across my skin; this was a reaction to being inside the Fold. Being inside the Fold felt like being in another dimension-a muted void that cried and silenced itself, trapped in its own cycle. I called to the sun and the light rushed to me, creating a thin dome around me.

Alright. Not bad.

As my advance continued, a dark mass swirled far above, threatening to rain down on my head. They knew I was here. The Volcra were corrupted creatures of the Fold; they had evolved to be blind due to the darkness of the Fold and had keen senses. One of them rushed towards me from above and I unsheathed my swords to welcome it.

My time in the Fold had pushed me unlike any other terrain; there was nothing as corrupt, as dangerous as this place. Determination coursed through my veins upon the recognition that I was much stronger now than I had been during my last visit. My swords hung idle at my hips as the Volcra screeched from the burning impact of my light, shadows sizzling and melting against it.

Beyond the courage familiarity gave me lurked a nameless fear. The Volcra were terrifying creatures, swarms of black with ferocious teeth and wings. You would never get the time to study them; even if you had braved the Fold for days on end. You either reacted in time or you died.

The goosebumps rose with the recognition that the cold sweat that had found my forehead was purely because of the Fold itself. The Volcra I could destroy, burn with my light, slice into pieces, but the Fold? The Fold was a malevolent force, just as alive as it's inhabitants. This was the real enemy.

By the time the Volcra had left me alone, my eyes found the skiff slipping into the darkness. This was the true start of my journey.

Tailing the skiff was hard enough; the vessel moved smoothly across the blackened land. There were strong Squallers on board; and my shoulders relaxed at the thought of Mal eased the weight on my chest instantly. A sliver of exhaustion crawled in when I realised that the Volcra hurtling themselves towards me had significantly increased in number, causing me to move faster to evade their attacks.

"Maybe I didn't think this through", I told the Volcra that screamed against my barrier; not that it was paying any special attention to my words.

I was ready to create a proper distraction when a small light, blinking at first,  emanated off the skiff.

Fire.

Saints. This would get ugly fast.

I flashed towards the skiff but I was too late. The screaming had started. My nerves had sent me into overdrive, all on fire; my legs slipped through the distance between us with a new urgency. A dreadful thought bloomed in my mind when I thought of Mal taking cover to hide.

The idiot Mal was, he’d rather wrestle the Volcra with his bare hands than do the sensible thing and try to stay hidden.

The grip on my swords tightened; my steady heart now thrummed violently, fighting against my now panicked mind.

Consequences be damned. I would save Mal even if It was the last thing I ever did. The Fold was familiar territory-and I wouldn't let it win against me.

The sequence of slaughter that ought to have blurred, but stayed as sharp as the edge of my blades. Between the screaming, blood and chaos, my eyes furiously searched the skiff and followed the dark blurring that had now started to consume the people on board.

My attention drew me towards the enemy; one that had its claws dug into one of the Inferni. I willed my heart to slow down; taking this while agitated would get me killed.

I called the sunlight onto my blades and swung at the Volcra that was closest by, decapitating it cleanly. The inferni fell back, screaming. My head snapped to the location of the other Volcra. 

I lunged forward into the other and cleaved it in two.

One left. I closed the gap between us to deliver a final spinning blade. My heart stopped when I noticed a familiar figure that stood across me; instinct screaming something unintelligible at me.

It happened fast.

It had turned out that while I moved to ki the Volcra, Mal had had a similar idea. The rifle in his arms fired a flurry of bullets at the Volcra; only that I had gotten to the creature first.

The result of this idiotic move hurt. A lot. I gasped for air, my hands still clinging to my blades. My body screamed in pain, throwing me to the wooden floor. I looked up at the sky, hands hastily assessing my wounds. The darkness had turned into a malevolent storm; one that would rain down on us very soon. 

Two bullets had lodged themselves into my arm and right rib; I felt the blood pour out of me, turning my body to lead with every painful second. The familiar chorus of screams hadn't quietened; the floor reverberated with the scurrying of footsteps, all reminding me of a single truth.

I had to finish this.

I clapped my hands together, calling all of the sun to me. My chest heaved with every breath and I let my sunlight tear through the sky, drowning us all in its light. More screams ensued; only they came from the sky, from the darkness all around us. Elation danced in my blood, numbing all other senses significantly. I closed my eyes. 

This was my power; this was what I was, what I was capable of when the world was willing to let me be myself. This was liberation.

My eyes fluttered between the recovering scene of the people around me-soon, they'd realise that I didn't belong here. If they had witnessed what I was capable of, this would temporarily mark the end of my freedom.

"Alina?" A strangled voice cried, making my heart shudder.

Mal was alright. Mal was alright and nothing else in the world mattered. My vision faded to a black darker than the Fold's sky, and I let it.

The rest of the trip through the fold was uneventful, though one wouldn't conventionally call the situation uneventful. The scale was comparitive, really.

For starters, I was now held at gunpoint by idiot one, still half sobbing. Idiot two was a raven haired Squaller who thought her mere presence sufficed as a threat. She glared at me in half defiance, half fear. I can't say I didn't enjoy that.

Idiot three was Mal, but I had managed to convince him with my eyes alone that it was better if he pretended he never knew me. He tied some rag cloth around my arm and ribs while muttering "Saints, Alina" to himself constantly.

A new light welcomed us and I realised that we had reached the end of our journey. I had lost too much energy to light travel so I was as good as stuck here. My mind refused to think; it could only observe the next sequence of events.

The Corporalki rushed on board and exchanged barks with the beautiful idiot Squaller. I didn't care enough to follow, no. I was tired. This wasn't according to plan. I never really had a plan but that wasn't really the point. The point was that I wanted to get out of this unscathed and have a warm bath in Kribirsk, maybe walk around the city a bit before assessing my options.

That wasn't happening, and it wasn't happening because I had messed up.

The conversation and rushing of Healers was starting to get on my nerves, so I figured this was time to shut my eyes a bit and avoid answering all questions, which was granted to me by a short sleep.

When I woke, I was surrounded by rifles. Rude. A Corporalnik in red took charge of me. His eyes glinted dangerously and I could tell that they were trying to read my pulse.

"Move it, girl." He ordered. I raised an eyebrow at him.

Alright.

I was being marched towards the Officers' tent. The captain stormed in and returned with one Colonel Raevsky. He looked rather disgruntled about the whole situation. Maybe his annoyance was justified. I was an intruder, a threat until proven otherwise. Of course, I had proven otherwise and that's what had gotten me into this mess in the first place.

The Colonel stood in front of me. It looked like he had opted not to converse with me as he signalled on and moved past the officer tent. With ceremony and more company than was required, I followed.

When I saw the unreasonably large black tent on the horizon, I immediately knew where I was headed. My heart ached again, as though it had suddenly been called upon to ache. A chill settled on the back of my neck, telling me that my actions had sped up the plan a bit too much, thrusting me into a confrontation I was yet to steel my heart to face. 

No stopping it now, though.

Chapter Text

A whirlwind of thoughts stirred my mind as the First Army soldiers deposited me at the entrance of the Grisha tent. They wouldn’t pass this point, but I would. Two guards dressed in charcoal gray and the Corporalnik from earlier led me in, and I hoped that the man couldn't read my extent of my nervousness.

The inside of the tent was astonishingly beautiful. Bronze silks lined the dark walls. The carpets ran a dark grey. The chambers separated by curtains on my left and right were filled with Grisha in various stages of relaxation. The sight brought solace to my heart; Men and women, all in colours of red, blue and purple, leisurely lounging around, a few playing cards, drinking what looked like mugs of Kvas, and buzzing with laughter and conversations; was this not a dream of mine as well? For all Grisha to be safe? Happy?

Of course, that particular set of scenes came to halt with them noticing my presence. A part of me, the more rational one, screamed that this couldn't happen now, that I had completely blown away the opportunity to take control of the situation. This was failure; I would have to quickly weave my story, although I couldn't see this ending all that badly. After all, they needed me.

Alive, yes. But unharmed? 

My fists clenched as I walked forward. My eyes skimmed over the intricate beauty of this place-it now strategized plans of action in case of things going wrong. There had to be fifty Grisha in here; mostly Summoners. Could I take them all?

On the centre of the dias ahead was a beautifully ornate table and high chair made of ebony. On the chair itself was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I took a deep breath, and a torrent of emotion struck me, fighting to take control of all my senses. 

He was something else.

My heart struggled against my ribs and I realised that nothing could have prepared me for this. In my indecision, I had gone cold entirely, but the pull that his presence emanated had tied its strings to me far too well.

Was he not like me? This familiar face, this foreign creature. The relief swept in, a strong invader, and claimed the rest of my emotional state with a swift blow. My heart knew him far too well.

He wouldn't raise a finger against me, said the feeling in my bones.

Colonel Raevsky approached the man in the chair and murmured something in his ear. The man's lips curved into a crescent smile, one that would tell any rational person to run, run and never look back.

The Darkling. The man from my dreams, the meaning a part of me hoped would strengthen my resolve, the fate I had been avoiding all my life, until this very moment.

All the Grisha had gathered to the sides, muttering amongst themselves. The tension was building in the air but the Darkling’s voice seemed to cut through it all.

“Well.. we have a stranger among us”, he said smoothly. He rose from his chair and stepped forward to face me. My legs weakened at the sound of his voice; and I wondered if his soldiers could recognize the pressure that filled the air when he spoke. 

“Can anyone report on what happened inside the fold?” He asked.

Some of the Grisha that had been on the skiff with me hesitated, heads lowered, fingers laced in fear. My pulse quickened when I realised that Mal wasn’t with them. What had they done to him? The raven haired Squaller shot me a quick look of disdain and spoke up.

“We were attacked a few minutes into our voyage. Someone had lit a lamp.” The surrounding Grisha registered their annoyance with a dull groan. “Then, we were attacked. I was on the offensive with two Inferni and one tracker from the 16th regiment. We were attacked by a swarm of Volcra.” She stated. She then gestured to me. “I saw a flash of light and before I knew it, this.. this girl had killed three Volcra that were attacking the members on board. The tracker has opened fire on one of them and injured the girl in the process.” Did I see a glint in her eyes just then? What did I even do to this girl? “The rest circled on us and attempted a joint attack,” she said. The crowd hung onto her every word, waiting, already half agitated at the scene that she had witnessed. “The girl then summoned a column of light, destroying the hundreds of Volcra above us," she finished. A moment of sharp silence was shattered by the sound of the crowd.

“Impossible-“
“It can’t be real-“
“It’s a miracle”

The crowd cheered and groaned, cried and laughed. I fixed my eyes on my shadow man; only his reaction mattered. He raised a hand and his soldiers fell into a practiced silence.

“According to Zoya’s account, it seems that we have a Sun Summoner. Which is odd, considering that if I had a Sun Summoner in Ravka I would have come to know sooner”, he said coldly. My heart skipped a beat, because we both knew something that the others didn't. He took a moment, chilling gaze levelled with me, probably thinking of what had to be done with me.

I could take him in a fight, a stupid voice in my head said in an attempt to soothe my unease. He concluded his moment of contemplation with, 

“I have more questions for you but for now, a demonstration of your power will suffice”.

I stared at him unflinchingly. If he wanted a demonstration, I would give him one.

The guards stepped back but kept their eyes trained on me, the Corporalnik kept his eyes narrowed, ready to stop my heart if I were to do anything unexpected.

I willed the sun to reach me and clapped my hands. A thin beam of light flooded through the tent’s ceiling, burning a hole in it. I concentrated more, drawing in the heat I wanted it to burn brighter, so bright that no one could look at it, even through glasses and fingers over their eyes.

I gave up the light right after, the after effects still bouncing around the room.

The crowd was deathly quiet before murmurs started to fill the room, growing, building in intensity. A few seemed to be in tears, and others seemed to draw closer to me, just by a step or two. The Darkling walked towards me, his expression unreadable. I took in his dark perfection again. He took my chin in the tips of his fingers and lowered his voice so that only I could hear him say the words “I see you've kept your promise.”

I shuddered. He was saving me by cutting the interrogation short. Did he trust me? He then signalled the Corporalnik from earlier to take charge of me.

“Ivan, take her to my private tent. I will conduct further questioning alone.”

Colonel Raevsky knew better than to challenge him. Grisha were dealt with by the General of the Second Army, and as strange as my presence was, I was undoubtedly a Grisha. This was no longer under his jurisdiction-a realisation that probably irked the man. The Colonel mumbled an acknowledgment and I was swept out of the tent immediately afterwards.

It was safe to say that Ivan didn’t like me, but I had a feeling that he didn’t like anyone. He dragged me by the arm towards the farthest Grisha tents, lined behind all others. I was to wait for him in one of these. The smaller black tents seemed to house his private quarters; from memory alone, I could summon similar images to my mind, ones that had the man working with piles of documents crowding his table, speaking with a variety of important looking people. Ivan took me into one of them and had me sit on a cluster of cushions, some of them propped up against the wall of the tent. He eyed me wearily, but his eyes regained the dangerous glint that Heartrenders were known to have.

“We will wait here until the General arrives”, he barked at me. This was a gentler bark than normal, I assumed. A part of me wondered what they would all make of me, now that they knew that I existed. I repressed the unease that I had felt in the church two days ago; sentiments like those would reveal themselves to me in time.

“Well in that case, I will rest until that happens.” I laid down and curved my body to save space, trying my level best to relax despite the thousand worries that kept me awake. Ivan looked ruffled at first but his features sunk into one of understanding soon enough. He now stood at the entrance of the tent, weary yet strict expression on his face. I wanted to tease him a little, but had other things to think about first.

So far, no one had tried to kill me. Yet. This would mean that their priority would be to get me to the Little Palace as soon as possible. I would try to grasp the situation to the best of my capabilities, and the first thing that needed addressing was if Mal was alright or not.

How much had they learned from him?

If I were them, I would have everyone on board questioned with Heartrenders.
So they know. They probably do.

None of this sounded right. If they were going to hurt Mal, I would have to break him out and make myself an enemy for real. The sting of failure reintroduced itself to me, followed by a numbing collection of thoughts.

I cursed myself. It shouldn’t have been like this. I closed my eyes, thinking about the stones Mal and I would skip across the nearby pond, all to distract myself from what I had gotten myself into.

When my eyes opened again, it was dark outside. It wasn’t just that I could see it, but that I could feel the absence of the sun and the presence of the stars. I was still curled up on the cushions but the angry Heartrender was no longer ahead of my eyes.

“I hope you’ve managed to rest a little”, the Darkling said. He was sitting on a chair in front of me. We were alone together.

Chapter Text

“I have, thank you.” It’s a miracle I get the words out. I searched his slate grey eyes for a shred of concern, but my wily shadow man hated to give things away. I smoothed my hair as I got up to sit in front of him.

We looked at eachother. 

“Alina Starkov.” A statement, not a question. 
My name hadn’t come into question then, but he knew it anyway. A lot of things about our interaction earlier felt bizarre to me, but he gave me no time to think of them. This was a fight with a time limit, and he was about to make the first move.

“When was the first time you saw me?” 

“When I was about ten years old.”

The 'interrogation' bounced back and forth between the two of us; he wanted to know what I had been doing all these years and I gave him the least I could while simultaneously judging whether he'd want to hurt me or not. He struck, I parried, he had me backed up to a wall with question after question, trying to find a weak-link, trying to break open exactly who I was and I resisted his jabs at every turn. The main spar had been how I had seen him in visions; his questions snuck in between others, trying to dig, unravel what was it that could explain our bizarre yet fateful connection. I explained my perspective with a reasonable degree of honesty, excluding the extent to which I had relied on his presence when I was at my loneliest. The ache in my heart worsened when I realised that while he has been my company, I had been nothing to him-I wouldn't dare to show these feelings, how young my heart was at times. It fluttered like a little bird and drowned in oceans of pain, it raced against time and stilled when I least expected it to. It was my weakness, the one thing no amount of power could guarantee protection for. 

The Darkling maintained an expression of vague interest throughout the interrogation, but I could tell that he was subtly trying to assess my influences and motivations. His words still pierced the air, albeit with cold detachment. The face that betrayed nothing still revealed in small increments that it bothered him that I was tied to him in a way neither of us understood. This was a stalemate he would attempt to break through soon enough. I closed my eyes briefly, calculations whirring around my head.

Questioning without a Heartrender, this  was something he couldn’t have a single person know. I was in an inner circle, in the room of his mind, and he would have to deal with the fact that I was there. He would have to accept several things, and so would I. My fingers laced themselves in anticipation. We had reached the present and now, I would have to explain how I ended up here.

After a calculative pause, he leaned forward to ask another question.

“How are you and the tracker related?” 

Ah. That. 

“Mal and I are childhood friends”, I explained. “We come from the same orphanage.” His eyes glinted at the word friends. 

“And is that why you journeyed into the fold? To protect him?”

“I was planning to reach Kribirsk anyway, I just preferred him alive over dead.” My voice turned softer. I just wanted to watch out for him. “The soldiers on the skiff were never supposed to see me but that changed when I saw the fire.” My anxiety started to build. Only Mal had known Alina Starkov; and if this man knew my name, it meant that Mal had given it to him. Or it had been taken from him.

“And what were you going to do in Kribirsk?” His narrowed eyes searched me, looking for hints of my intentions. I didn’t know what he could read in my face, if my expressions were betraying me.

“Reach you”, I answered honesty. That was the point. A part of me trusted this familiar stranger. I had needed to reach him the way a burnt hand needed to reach water, stumbling blindly with a duty-bound heart, all for my responsibilities, my sense of meaning. And what did he mean to me now? The question had left my chest with a burning numbness.

He angled his face into his pale hand and I struggled against the impact of his beauty. “You knew I was here?” His voice held a distant longing, like he had been waiting for me to say these words for hundreds of years. 

I nodded. “I sensed it.” 

“Like calls to like.” 

Maybe that’s what it was. But was this man anything like me? I assessed his cold features again.
I didn’t know, but I wanted to find out.

“I know what this will mean for me. The Sun Summoner is supposed to destroy the fold. There are cults made in the Sun’s name. There are people waiting for me, waiting to see me, waiting to kill me. I didn’t run away from my duties. I ran to understand my own power and learn to use it; without the company of politicians or zealots. I knew I wouldn’t be safe and I’m still not safe, but I’m not helpless either. I’m here now. I’m ready to face what I have to.”

The Darkling stilled in contemplation again. I couldn’t tell what was on his mind, which thrilled and scared me in equal measure. There was something dangerous about his calm demeanour concerning me, like he was an animal lying in wait, trying to find the right moment to pounce.

“You’ve kept the world waiting, Alina, but it will wait no longer.” 

I could feel the unease creeping in my bones. I knew what he had meant. 

He would wait no longer. 

He rose from his chair and I rose with him, legs wobbling slightly.

“You may use this tent to continue your rest. Food will be brought to you shortly. You travel for the Little Palace at midnight.”
He turned to leave but I stopped him.

“Is Mal alright? I hope he hasn’t been punished..he was just doing his job.” A girl’s request. If I had read between the lines right, he wouldn’t deny me.

He looked back at me, almost tempted to say something. He nodded curtly instead, bowed to me and exited the tent.

My clammy hands went to my hair as soon as he’d left. What had happened today? The time I was in the Grisha tent was the most confusing. I had gotten off too easily, probably leaving the others in state of unrest. The sequence of events felt disconnected from there, and I could tell that this would be the start of a ploy. The Darkling planned to monopolise me and he had wanted me to know it. I had shown my hand and he had played his. My fingers finished the braid they had started in nervousness.

I had survived for today.

This would be the last time I see Mal for a while. My eyes searched the tent for the first time, finding the bowl of water and washcloth that waited for me on a short table. A small mirror lay flat on a black shirt beside them. I raised the mirror in my hands and felt a tinge of embarrassment. My face was painted in a thin layer of dirt. Dried blood stuck to my shirt and most of my right sleeve had been completely ripped out. “Idiot,” I muttered. What was the point of making an entrance if you looked like hell while doing it? My fingers traced my right rib, where a dull ache remained. I had no clear recollection of the healers working on me. A sigh escaped my lips. Long day.

When I stepped out of the tent, I resembled a human being again. I straightened my back, determined. I was going to find Mal and make things right.

Chapter Text

Standing outside the tent were Ivan The Terribly Annoying and another man of similar build, another Heartrender by the looks of it. Ivan looked a bit inconvenienced by his current stationing, his lips pressed into a thin line, brows furrowed.

“Stay in the tent, girl.”

“Girl? Not ‘Blessed-Sun-Summoner-here-to-save -and-unite-all-of-Ravka’?” The man beside him barked a small laugh. He held out his hand to me.

“My name is Fedyor, it’s an honour to meet you.” I hesitated for a second and took it. Shaking a Heartrender’s hand always scared me a little. Good thing Tamar and Tolya preferred hugs.

“Call me Alina”, I said to him. “But Ivan can call me Blessed-Sun-Summoner-here-to-save-and-unite-all-of-Ravka if he pleases.” Another laugh. To his credit, Ivan didn’t look pleased.

“I need to see my friend before I leave tonight. You can come with me, of course,” I added. Fedyor didn’t seem to mind and Ivan may have said something resembling a ‘no’ but I couldn’t bother to listen. I started walking beside Fedyor. Ivan followed, possibly with murder in his eyes.

From Fedyor’s account, Mal had been questioned by Colonel Raevsky and then the Darkling. Someone on the skiff must have heard him say my name; there was no other discernible reason for Mal’s specific detention. My heart started to race at these thoughts-had they done anything to him? Fedyor sensed my distress and squeezed my arm in reassurance.

“He’s unhurt, Miss Alina. They let him go right after the inquiry.”

When we reached the soldier tents, Fedyor went into one to find Mal for me. I wasn’t allowed. I paced around and traced my own footprints in the mud. Ivan stood still, his expression unreadable. Three minutes in, I started to feel a little dizzy. I stopped and looked up at Ivan’s unimpressed face.

“Tough day?”

“Shut up. Miss,” he added unconvincingly.

I had a fantastic retort to this but Fedyor came to Ivan’s rescue. The man that followed him looked looked apologetic. And afraid. I tried to ignore the latter.

“Alina I really didn’t mean to-“

“Shoot me twice? Yeah, I figured.” My lips twitched. Mal couldn’t bear the idea of hurting me, but I could still get a few jokes out of the story. I turned around and realised that Fedyor and Ivan were too close for his comfort. Fedyor then met my eyes, gave me a small nod and dragged Ivan to stand a few feet away from us.

Mal looked like he didn’t want to be here. His blue eyes flashed with a torrent of emotion, fingers twitching restlessly. It hurt him that he had hurt me. My pain was his, only mine had subsided, leaving his to fester in solitude.

My eyes burned as he spoke.

“Why did you follow us, Alina? What were you even thinking?”

“I would have never intervened if it weren’t for the fire! If the roles were reversed, wouldn’t you have done the same for me?”

Mal rushed his fingers through his hair. He knew he couldn’t win this argument. Had he realised how different I had become, did he think that he could no longer scold me like he did in the past?

“But now you’re trapped, you realise that, don’t you? They’ll take you to the Little Palace.” he said morosely. I nodded.

“I’m not trapped. No..I wanted for this to happen. I just wish the circumstances would be different.”

I wished I was normal, that everything was normal. If that were the case, I would be sharing stolen plums with Mal, talking about the pranks we'd need to pull during Butter Week. Or something else. Something peaceful, warm and good. Safe.
Mal looked miserable now, and I knew that he thought I was slipping through his fingers. This would be the last time we'd see eachother, at least for a while. As a normal girl, I would have belonged with him effortlessly; but he was a home I had left long ago, and I was the farthest thing from normal a person could dream of. In a different life, we would never parted, always staying together regardless of what came by us. I had that life once, and I had shattered it into a million pieces.

“I’ll write to you every chance I get..You won’t lose me, not this time”, I promised. He smiled ruefully, like what I had said was impossible. My heart broke a little at that.

“Just.. take care of yourself, Alina.” He turned back into his tent, unfamiliar frame facing me. I knew already that it was too late for me to gain Mal’s forgiveness. I closed my eyes and a thousand regrets found me standing, waiting for him to decide to turn back towards me.

Ivan and Fedyor escorted me back to my tent, where they lingered as I ate. The Second Army never fell short on rich, delicious food. Knowing what the others went through, this annoyed me a little.

I was escorted to a carriage at midnight. They had let me keep my swords and my rucksack, which surprised me a little. If I were them, I would have myself handcuffed, but the cold eyes of the Heartrenders and Oprichniki (the Darkling’s personal guard) around me seemed to say “It’s no matter.” They wrapped a brown kefta around me and it was surprisingly light on my shoulders.

The carriage was stained black inside and out. This was his personal coach. I sat between Ivan and Fedyor and two Oprichniki sat to face us. The other Oprichnik would lead the way on horseback, with another trailing us alongside a Healer. Fedyor seemed the decent sort and we conversed lightly as our carriage sped onto the dirt trail. With the rumbling of the wheels turning, the thought of what I had left behind settled in me. 

If my friends could see me now, what would they say? 

When daybreak reached, we stopped briefly when we entered a pine forest. The temperature dropped sharply, making way for a gentle breeze. I sat on a nearby rock and watched as the Oprichniki reset themselves like they were purely mechanical. Considering Grisha technology, there was a sliver of a chance that they truly were. I delivered my theory to Fedyor and he smiled, shaking his head.

“They’re very much alive, Miss Alina.”

I picked a stone off the ground. The air was cool, crisp on my lips and the dense undergrowth seemed to chirp on occasion. The path was barely noticeable, twisting into multiple trails, each leading somewhere new. The pines had branches that curved into eachother, as though huddled in an embrace. The place brimmed with ancient life, calling me to run my fingers across its trees, collect the yellow flowers that brushed against my boots, to know it as well as it knows itself. I had roamed through forests like this when I was younger. My appreciation was cut short by Ivan’s call. We were leaving.

I could sense that something was wrong when we stopped abruptly a few miles in.  Ivan opened the door and looked out. He motioned to the Oprichniki to follow him outside.

“There is a branch in our path but it could be a trap. Stay inside.”

Something in the air felt strange, unnatural. My pulse quickened in recognition of this feeling but before I could turn to Fedyor, it had started. There were shouts from both sides.

Drüskelle.

I moved to get out but Fedyor held me down with firm hands.

“You stay here, Miss Alina. Don’t leave the carriage at any cost.” He then rushed out of the carriage himself. My hands started to shake. I wasn’t going to sit still, no. I couldn’t. I knew Drüskelle well enough. I was going.

The door opened itself before I could. The enemy was here and was looking for me. He swung at me with his pick axe but he underestimated the space he would have within the carriage. I didn’t. I lunged forward and drew out my sword, slitting his throat in the process. The momentum didn’t stop there, though, and I fell to the ground. Upon recovery, I assessed the situation, drawing in a sharp breath.

Twenty Drüskelle, half of them archers. Frontliners focused on our Healer first, but Ivan and Fedyor reached them before they reached him. One Oprichnik down already. Fedyor took over his fight now. I was ready to move.

I flashed behind the two Drüskelle and swung my blades at them, my body twisting to spin them. They turned in my direction but it was too late. Blood splattered in multiple direction but I didn’t linger to see Fedyor’s reaction. Next target was the entire backline. I summoned the sun, a shocking heat ran down my spine. I cast a barrier and pushed it in front of the backline. That would keep them out for a bit. I turned towards the rest. The problem was here. Two more Oprichniki down. Ivan couldn’t focus on all four Drüskelle that were attacking him-Fedyor had been wounded.

No other option. Another card to show.

A thin, curved blade of light formed in front of me. It had no handle but it didn’t need one. I dropped my swords, grabbed the blade and swung it towards them. The blade sliced their heads off cleanly and spun back into my hand. A flaming arrow whizzed by me then. The archers had learned the workaround to my barrier. Too little, too late. I dropped the barrier and flashed across into the backline, adrenaline coursing through my veins. A single swing sufficed; this curved blade had a mind of its own, relentlessly pursuing the enemy until it made contact. It left no survivors. I rushed back to Ivan and Fedyor but the fight had already ended. The Healer worked on an Oprichnik in earnest, muttering something to him. The Oprichniki weren’t wounded too badly. I wiped the sweat off my brow. It didn’t look like anyone was going to die today.

Fedyor looked at me like I was both a goddess and a monster.

“We’re saved”, he breathed, and I knew he wasn’t talking about the fight we were in just now. He smiled through the blood that dripped from his forehead. Unease crept in my bones again. Ivan gave me a long look and took to assess the Oprichniki’s condition. I heard the sound of a single horse approaching and turned to see the black mass on top of it.

When the Darkling dismounted, darkness seemed to curl around his boots, all shadows on his features otherworldly. Ivan rushed to him and bowed. Fedyor followed his manner.

My hands immediately flew to my hair. Why did I always have unclean fights before seeing him? The look on his face was impassive. Once Ivan had finished his account, he turned towards me. Blood rushed to my head and the ground seemed to sway underneath my feet. The stronger I looked, the less they’d trust me. The harder I was to control.

“This kind of recklessness will kill you and we can’t risk that, Alina.” I relished the sound of my name on his tongue. He was right but I didn’t regret what I had done.

“Every drop of Ravkan blood spilt is a tragedy, General. I did what I had to do.”

I wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say. He scanned my appearance. I stared at the ground.

“Are you hurt?”

I shook my head.

He took that as the sign he needed. “You will ride with me now.”

A weight escaped my shoulders. The situation was salvaged. Fedyor smiled weakly-that was his ‘I’ll talk to you later’ to me. I stepped through the graveyard I had just help create, a hollow feeling settling in my chest.

The Darkling mounted on his horse, eyes trained on me. I wasn’t going to keep him waiting.

We set camp at some point into the night. I sat across the rest of the Grisha. We were more in number now; the Darkling had brought reinforcements. They exchanged hollow whispers, daring to look at me on occasion. Fedyor was on patrol, which left me friendless.

Lorena always laughed when I said it but Tamar had immediately understood. Fear had a smell-and it smelled like the chill of a fever. I had adjusted to being feared a long time ago, but disliked it still. Perspiration. Wide eyes. Trembling. I had seen them first in the face of a boy and today, the Drüskelle had reeked of it. A glimpse of my power had frozen them in their tracks. My boots dug into the dry ground, crushing it.

The Grisha across me scrambled to stand in unison. Their General had joined them. They settled immediately but their whisperings ceased. A brittle jealously pricked my skin. I wanted to be there with them.

The fire painted stark shadows on the Darkling’s face, sharpening his jawline even further. A myth amongst men. I looked up at the night sky and titled my gaze towards him. The young girl in my past would have blushed furiously upon meeting her painting. But I was still young, wasn’t I?

Soon enough, he walked towards me. If he could hear my heart struggling against my ribs, he would laugh. I didn’t know if he laughed but I wanted to know the sound.

He sat next to me.

“That was some display of power, Alina.” His eyes flickered past me. Was he impressed? Alarmed?

“I honed my skills the hard way.”

“And what way would that be?”

“Alone.”

He nodded slightly. Some part of him had understood my meaning.

“I hope you will like the Little Palace,” he said.

“I can’t say I’ll enjoy the politics, but I’ll try to make myself at home once the king doesn’t decide to execute me,” I replied wryly.

I knew the meaning of my existence. I had revealed myself very late, late enough for others to understand that controlling me wouldn’t be an easy task. I was incredibly important and the only way to ‘unify’ the country, but I wasn’t confident that the King’s paranoia would spare me entirely. He could think that the Darkling had been hiding me, that I was behind the cult that might threaten his rule. There was a fair chance that he’d have me executed under the guise that I was an impostor or a rebel.

“Trust me when I say this-I will not let that happen. You will be safe from all political interference with me.” I turned my eyes away. His voice seemed sincere. Or he needed me to believe that. The truth was that the Darkling himself was another political influence, and that he shouldn’t be making promises that were impossible to keep.

I shook that thought out of my head and sneaked a glimpse of him. I could feel his energy slipping out of him like smoke. I wondered if he could feel mine.

“About what I did today.. no one else must know.”

He nodded. I was too nervous to turn to face him entirely; the space was too little. I continued to watch the fire.

“You have been calling to me,” I said, the thought warming me immediately. “You called to me and I came. I don’t know if I’m ready now, but when I am, I will do what is needed to save Ravka.”

I looked at him now. My shadowed man gave me a rare smile to cherish.

“I have been waiting for you for a very long time, Alina.”

My cheeks flushed. I hoped that I had been worth the wait.

Chapter Text

My body was completely sore by the time we reached Os Alta. My company seemed to think nothing of it as we rode on, and was nice enough to not say a single word to me for the rest of our journey. Talking while riding on a horse was a terrible idea so I clung to the Darkling’s cloak wordlessly. His magnetism didn't help ease my heart and I thanked the stars that he wasn't a Heartrender. 

The capital of Ravka was quite familiar to me, but just different enough to keep my eyes occupied. I had met Lorena here-I was on a job then. Our friendship was hard to grasp; she was charismatic and never backed down from a fight and I was a ghost trying to slip through town after town. Needless to say, she developed a habit of blowing my cover. I smiled at the thought of her. The girl who refused to leave me alone was now trying to help people. I wanted to write to her but I knew I couldn’t. Writing to a country that was in ‘military conflict’ with yours was a terrible idea. Beyond that, if the Sun Summoner was caught trying to ‘contact a Frejdan’, it would be a disaster. There should be a way, though. Ways were many for those who could afford them.

We rode through the sleepy streets. You couldn’t tell that this place was the ‘dreamland’ Os Alta just yet. Common marketplaces, inns, immigrants and several pubs; the shades of every other Ravkan city claimed this part of the capital-far more comfortable than what was to come.

The glimmer of the ‘other’ Os Alta shone on the horizon, just beyond the drawbridge. This place I knew as well; if the dark alleyways and narrow streets of the ‘less-fortunate’ Os Alta was filled with thieves and wraiths, the ‘gilded’ Os Alta housed schemers far more dangerous than all of them put together. A distinction worth noting was that while common thugs wore their crimes on their sleeves and their intentions on their faces, schemers wore smiles, gossamer silk and diamonds.

After we crossed the drawbridge, the sentries pulled the levers, splitting the bridge in perfect halves. This was the separator, the reminder that what was beyond was out of reach to the common Ravkan.

I closed my eyes as we journeyed up a hill, houses gradually increasing in size and splendor. I was incredibly tired and every bone in my body screamed for rest. I opened my eyes every now and then to glimpses of golden gates, storied buildings and manicured gardens.

“Awake now?”

I jolted with a start. How long had I been asleep? The Darkling leaned back ever so slightly, his arm bending to graze my thigh. The action sent sparks into my bloodstream, waking me up even further. I had no answer, but my confusion and tiredness didn’t stop me from understanding that we had arrived.

A host of soldiers stood in attention as we rode by. We had entered palace grounds.
In the middle of the vast landscape stood what could only be described as the loudest building on the continent. Impossibly high and decked with elaborate terraces, fountains and a small army of statues, the gilded facade of the Grand Palace was as painfully grand as it could be.

“What do you make of it?”, asked the Darkling.
“I think it’s a perfect reflection of Ravkan royalty,” I yawned, much to my embarrassment. I imagined he smirked a little at that. A glimmering facade and saints only knew what happened within. If that wasn’t Ravkan royalty, what else was?

We weren’t headed there, though. Behind the palace, a path curved into uncut meadows. A tunnel made of twisted wood and vines lay ahead. As we made our way through, I took in its unaltered beauty. When we emerged from the tunnel, I understood that this was a different world-completely unlike the Grand Palace.

The Little Palace was truly breathtaking. An extension of nature’s gifts, it stood almost as tall as the grand palace, its golden dome hovering far above it. The dark wood curved into the building’s elaborate form, filled with intricate carvings. Servants lined up at the entrance where we dismounted and to my horror I realised that I couldn’t feel my legs at all. Another wave of pain and tiredness crashed against my consciousness, begging me to rest.

The beauty of this place was barely enough to keep my eyes open. I weakly ran a finger across a beautifully carved door, bursting with vines and scenes of wildlife. The large room that greeted us was just as stunning. I cursed the floor for being attractive as well; I was more than willing to fall asleep on it. The Darkling gestured to one of the maids and she scrambled towards me to show me to my room. He gave me a curt nod and disappeared into the darkness of a long corridor.

I was too tired to pay real attention, half tempted to request the maid to let me sleep on the bottom of the stairs. When we finally reached my room, the maid curtsied to me and closed the door after saying “Please remember to lock them, Miss.”

I locked the doors and briefly took in a canopied bed before diving into it.

I woke just before sunrise; my limbs heavy and throat dry. The pain had dulled a little bit remained at my right rib and arm. I tried not to think about why. I prepared myself mentally to leave the softness of the bed and attempt to find some water when the details of the room made themselves clearer to me.

As someone who wasn’t entirely fond of aristocracy and grandness, I had to admit that the room was genuinely beautiful. My feet paced on cut granite floors, the ceiling had been painted with elaborate scenes of forests and animals. Out the window, a lake glimmered faintly at the hint of sunrise. I lingered there, waiting for the sun to reach me. When the light streamed into my room ever so gently, a new energy possessed me. I called to the sun a little more, asking it to soak light right into my skin. The sun’s rays responded in kind, flooding into my room with a quick burst of light. Today would be a warm day, I was sure of it now.

With my energy returned to me, I managed to find a glass bottle filled with water on a writing desk. The situation felt a little strange to me, but I was willing to rationalise that the Second Army wouldn’t work so hard to bring me here just to have me killed via a drink of water. I looked around the room then, examining the walls and exploring its uncomfortably large space. The bath was, to put it shortly, quite pretty. The sunlight now bounced off walls with shells and abalones, giving them an iridescent sheen. A single tub, beaten from a single thick plate of copper stood in the centre of this area. I turned the faucet open and hot water flowed out of its mouth. I closed it immediately, my fingertips still warm at the revelation. I would ask for towels and take a bath.

If you asked the maid I’d approached what I had done, you’d think I had threatened her with murder if she hadn't provided me precisely what I had wanted. Fear struck her eyes as she curstied too low for anyone’s comfort and ran like the wind. I leaned against the doorframe of my room and looked out into the vast corridor. This place warranted exploration, but without the King’s seal of approval, I wasn’t going to take a tour just yet.

I had left my doors open; so when the most beautiful woman I had ever seen walked through it, I had no grounds to complain. She rushed towards me, her blaze of auburn hair glowing in the sunlight. She then scrunched her nose in distaste, taking in my appearance. Her golden eyes shone when she spoke.

“What on earth's name happened to you?”
She gave me no time to respond. “Hurry, now. I have a lot more work on my hands and we only have an hour.” A host of servants had trailed into the room, all more than willing to grab me by the arms and drag me into the bath like one dragged a prisoner into a jail cell. I was ready to protest but instead asked a more pressing question.
“An hour for what?” The woman was fussing with a toolkit of sorts, arranging small bottles on the table.
“To meet the King.”
“Can’t believe he’s awake at this hour.”
“By the time you reach him, I assure you that he will be.”
Well. I hummed a note of acknowledgement as the servants stripped me off all my clothing and started running the bath. The hot water helped soothe my muscles. steamed readily into the tub and I welcomed it, frowning at the comforts that the rich could afford at the same time. I had a feeling that Fold or no Fold, the rich turned richer and the poor turned poorer.

I had lost track of the process but rubbing my skin almost raw was probably unnecessary. I was then wrapped in an unbearably soft robe. My fingers traced the unfamiliar material but the beautiful woman had no time for me to waste. She immediately sat me in front of the table she had set up her materials on. She then sat to face me after motioning to the servants to leave.

“My name is Genya,” she said, “and I am a Tailor.” Her hands moved across my hair, undoing my braid. I focused on her golden eyes as her fingers ran quickly across my face. I could feel a gentle tingling, like I was being healed.

“Is a Tailor a type of Healer?” I had never heard of it before.

“A lesser version.” I smiled. She didn’t sound convinced at all. “Tailors can do several things and they make good beauticians. We’re as rare as you.” She held out my arm and traced her fingers over the scratches on them, dissolving them into nothing. My thoughts raced. “I can’t make large changes, no.” She read my expression perfectly. “But over time, I can. I’ve been working on myself for years, you see. And for now, making you look more like a girl and less like an animal will suffice.” I sighed as she continued to search my arms for scars.
“Is it that bad?” She scanned my appearance and her features softened considerably.
“No. Even by my standards, you’re a beauty.” The most beautiful woman had called me a beauty. That was good sign. A smile grew on my face slowly, to which she said “Don’t get ahead of yourself, though. You aren’t doing nearly enough to take care of your appearance.”
Her hands raked through my hair gently and I surveyed the bottles she had placed on the table. Dried rose petals, berries, silver, gold, and other coloured powders. It reminded me of the multitude of jars and containers a Materialnik might carry.

When she took my calloused hand in hers and pressed the tips of my fingers, I stopped her.
“Don’t change that. I need them. I want my hands to stay the same.” A sharp glint passed her eyes and as quickly as I had said it, she removed her hands and moved or her jars. I wanted my hands to stay the same. A light scar traced my palm and I traced my thumb over it. I thought about Mal but stopped when I felt the guilt rising in my chest.

Genya’s practiced hands moved the petals to her palm and on my face in one, smooth motion. I could feel the dissolved particles settling on my cheeks. She then handed me a mirror rimmed with gold.

I looked a maiden in a storybook. The one that waved her kerchief at ships sailing for adventure, with hope and peace in her heart. My hair was impossibly dark, flowing in loose waves. My sun kissed skin almost glowed and my cheeks held a reddish tint. I looked like a girl. Delicate, not deadly.

“The most non-threatening look on the continent. Thanks for that,” I said wryly. I preferred to be taken seriously but understood Genya’s intentions. Looking unassuming would help pass me off as an innocent but willing Ravkan in the eyes of the King. Considering the number of people who had seen what I was capable of, it was a needed revision of character.

Genya had already moved to the doors, which she opened to collect what I identified as my clothes. She laid them on the bed and I rose to take them. A long sleeved white tunic, blue sash for its waist, and black breeches. Familiar yet completely foreign; The material was unassuming, yet as soft as the lightest feather. When I was dressed, Genya handed me a black coat and a pair of boots. She pinned the a golden pin bearing the King’s crest to the coat’s lapel. I looked down to survey my new appearance. All of this covered me like a gentle caress, not like clothes normally do. It was disconcerting and impressive at the same time.
Genya gave me one last look and smiled a full smile, which nearly knocked me out entirely.
“Time to leave. Remember to keep your head down, act humble and say nothing stupid,” she added casually, as though I was headed to join her parents for dinner. I gave her a sagely nod.

She took my arm in hers and almost stormed out of the room, taking me her as she hurried down the hall. At some point, she whispered, “Keep it to yourself that I worked on you-I was only supposed to dress you.”
“Alright?”
“I’m not supposed to work on anyone who isn’t the Queen,” she sniffed. Clearly she didn’t like this Queen of hers. We moved onwards. We entered the domed main hall, which hosted Grisha of three colours-crimson, purple and dark blue. Their faces were young and beautiful, and I silently thanked Genya for her timely intervention. A few older Grisha lingered in the back, and I remembered that Grisha didn't age the same way as others.

It was hard to not be noticed when Genya was by my side. A thin silence fell as everyone turned to look at me. A Corporalnik approached me with a friendly smile and bowed. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Sergei Beznikov.” he smiled a toothy grin at me. I smiled back politely but before I could introduce myself, he had taken me by the elbow and moved towards the other Corporalki while saying “Come with me now, you’ll be walking with us.”

“She’s with us,” a girl in a blue kefta said. Another girl continued with a sharp glare. “She’s a summoner, Sergei, she walks with us.” The other Etherealki murmured in agreement.

“Marie, Ada.” Sergei’s tone brimmed with false politeness. “Surely we cannot have our only Sun Summoner walk with lower order Grisha.”

Marie flushed but Ada looked ready for a fist fight. The murmurs rose in volume and I interjected- “How about I walk alone? Or with Genya?” Laughs flittered across the crowd and I turned to look at Genya, who gave me a small smile and a shrug in return.
“Now why would you walk with the lowest of us all, a Tailor?” He sneered.
“By manner alone, you’ve proven that she’s far better than you,” I snapped. Anger bristled my skin. Whatever Genya was, she didn’t deserve to be talked of like this.

That seemed to wipe the expression clean off his face. He opened his mouth to respond, but a low voice cut in.

“She walks with me.”

The Darkling was flanked by his guard, almost of them familiar to me by now. I briefly considered giving Ivan a small wave, the idea of it scandalising him pleasing me greatly, but decided against it. The Grisha shuffled into their respective orders. When I turned to find Genya, she was no longer there. Soon enough, the Darkling was by my side, surveying my new appearance. He said nothing, but smiled slightly-as though he knew something that others didn’t.

Probably that I was more a killer than a saint, or that I couldn’t look feminine on my own to save my life.

He cast a look upon the Grisha.
“We are expected,” he said.
In mere moments, everyone arranged themselves in single file, the order according to rank. The highest ranked Grisha would enter last. Materialki first, followed by Etherealki, Corporalki, The General, and me alongside him.
I already knew this but the Darkling said it anyway.
“We are the only ones of our kind. Genya is like us in that manner.”
“And she’s what then? The Queen’s Servant?”
“She showed potential for being both a Fabrikator and Corporalnik, but I cultivated her particular abilities and gifted her to the Queen at a young age.”
“So she could have had power and respect and you damned her to the exact opposite.”
If she held such potential, she should have been admitted to the Second Army, not the Queen’s parlour.
“We all make sacrifices, Alina. We are all someone’s slave,” he said ruthlessly. I shook my head in silence. Genya was never his sacrifice to make.

We moved towards the Grand Palace. When gravel turned to smooth stone and tall grass turned to flat lawns, I knew we would arrive there soon. The marbled monstrosity that towered over us was also a giveaway of sorts.

The entry hall was decked with gold and mirrors. Our footsteps struck against the marbled floor in a uniform clatter. Tall walls of pale blue, white and gold flanked us constantly. I craned my neck to observe the intricate ceiling, glimmering chandeliers and paintings coloured with more gold than anything else.

Sturmhond would have loved to raid this place.

As we moved forward, I collected ludicrous details to write to Mal about. The jade tree with diamond leaves was definitely on the list. So was the painfully random fountain in the middle of one of the halls. Why there? But why not, all the extravagance seemed to say.

The throne room was about three stories high, sparkling windows and all. I was completely tired by then; this was far too much gold for me to witness in the span of a single morning. We followed the pale blue carpet to face the divisions of rank.The members of court were on a dias at the end of the room and further above them sat an extremely bored man.
The Grisha arranged themselves to the right of the carpet.The gentry were decked with all things glamorous; men wore military attire, new ones that probably hadn’t ever witnessed a battlefield, and women wore their silk gowns with plunging necklines and practiced smiles.

The man on the highest seat looked a lot less bored when he saw me on the Darkling’s arm. His watery blue eyes widened and he straightened his slouch.

“Goodness..so you are?”

“Your Highness, Moi Tsar, this is Alina Starkov, the Sun Summoner,” the Darkling announced. The King rose from his seat with a start. “So it is true! Bring her to me,” he ordered. When we reached the base of the dais, his eyes slid over my features. I felt a slight shiver; I had faced this type of unflinching male gaze before. I instantly disliked him for it.
“Pretty girl”, he said, a languid smile forming on his face. The way he had said it amounted to- “Pretty girl, but not pretty enough to deserve my attention.” I took a good look at him and felt grateful for his assessment. And I wasn’t without charm, no. I had my ways of gaining a man’s attention but they all involved weaponry.

“Show me.”

I cast a glance at the Darkling. The King wanted a demonstration? The Darkling nodded.

Fine by me.

I called for my light to slowly stream through the windows and gathered it in my palm. The crowd gasped. I wasn’t done yet. I willed the small ball of light to split into thousands of rays, drenching the hall in gentle light.

When the light dissipated, the crowd erupted into cheers. Some stood and shock, others cried and hugged one another. It reminded me of my time in the Grisha tent at Kibirsk, which seemed so long ago now. The King nearly jumped in joy.
“It’s a miracle! A complete miracle!” He rushed down to greet me.

“My dear, lovely Alina,” he had taken my hand in his and pressed his lips to it. I forced a smile and wondered if he would have done the same if I had decided to blind the entirety of his court instead. He then slapped the Darkling on the back heartily and proceeded to steer him away.
“Come, come, now we must discuss several matters at hand.”

I turned to navigate the rest of the room, but a robed man stopped me. Upon meeting his intense eyes and dark robes with the King’s crest drawn on the centre with gold, I divined that he was the Apparat. “Do you believe in miracles?” He asked as though my answer would change the world.

“We make our own miracles.”

He suddenly grabbed my arm and I flinched. This man was dangerous. I had heard the whispers already; he was rumoured to have a hand in the Sun cult that continued to grow with fervour. He was another man whose influence I would have to navigate while living here. I snapped my arm out of his grip and gave him my best glare. He gave me an intense knowing look and slunk back into whichever corner he came from as the rest of the court moved to greet me.

To some, I was their salvation. To others, I was their shiny new thing, an object of curiosity. I was used to it by now. Fingers brushed across my sleeves, lips curving at me as I tried to make my way out of the room.
I didn’t know how she did did it, but Genya managed to clasp my hand in hers and weave through the crowd effortlessly.
“The Queen wishes to see you,” she then said.
Oh. I steeled my nerves; this was going to be tedious.

We moved past the doors of a side hall and made our way into a glamorous sitting room.
I scanned the room and added another thing to the list I was going to write to Mal about.
3) Emeralds stuck in walls for no good reason.
The Queen waved her perfectly manicured nails at us impatiently. The ladies of her court were lounging around her on lush cushions, wrapped in spun silk, satin and velvet. They glimmered in unison like the jewel of a necklace but were still eclipsed by Genya’s beauty, her red hair still ablaze like the warming fire of the hearth.

She called me closer to get a better look at me me, and I looked back in return. Something about her perfect blonde curls, smooth skin and feminine face was overwhelmingly perfect; like the artist working on her had brightened the hues too much. Unnerving.

I realised at that moment that nobility and royalty were bowed and curtsied to. I lowered my eyes, gave a short bow and greeted her, “Your highness, Moya Tsaritsa, I am Alina Starkov.”

Her ladies giggled at that. I looked to Genya and her expression said it all-she was supposed to introduce me first. The Queen then whispered something to the lady to her right, and then said- “It’s so lovely to see that an ordinary girl like you could rise to become Ravka’s shining hope.” Shining hope? Was she taking a liking to me? “Your family must be proud; it’s an honour any commoner family would kill to earn.” I didn’t like the way she’d worded that. I thought about the scars my ‘honour’ had brought me when I was shunned as a monster.
“I am an orphan, Moya Tsaritsa.”
This certainly amused her. She clapped her jewelled hands in excitement.

“An orphan! A lovely, young orphan! How humbling indeed!” She exclaimed. Her ladies smiled sardonically, nodding their heads. A sharp anger started to bubble, rising into my chest slowly. Genya smoothly took my arm in hers again, her expression betraying nothing. I calmed a little. I was then told to sit in the middle of the ladies that surrounded her in a half circle. The Queen took my hand in hers, and showed the glimpse of a sardonic smile.

“How much suffering you must have seen! All of this must seem so strange to you, be careful not to get lost. In a palace so big,” she cast Genya a cold glare, “it’s so easy to lose your way.” She placed her had to my cheek now, her multitude of rings pushing against my skin. In her view, she was being gentle.
“If you ever need a friend, I’ll have you know that the doors of my court is always open to you.” The words sounded strange to me and I searched them for undertones. Her perfect politeness betrayed nothing, but that was what had bothered me in the first place.
Her ladies gushed and murmured praises of her, and then themselves on their sudden act of grace and generosity. I clenched my fists through the rest of the niceties. When we finally reached an empty hallway, Genya had much to say.

“That old hag,” she cursed. I nodded with vigour.
“What did she mean then? That she wanted to be my friend?” I asked. Her eyes widened slightly-she looked as though she had been expecting a different question.
“She thinks you’re interesting. She might try to collect you,” she explained. “Not that the Darkling would let that happen, though.”

“She’s right.” We turned to see the Darkling approach us. He looked mildly amused.
“I take it things went well with the Queen?”
“If that’s what you’d like to call it, yes,” I said, looking around. No one else was here.
“I don’t know. But I didn’t like a single second of it,” I admitted.
We walked together down the hallway in silence.
“When we were in the Throne room,” I managed to say. “I felt like I had gotten away with something. Is the King really that shallow or did you have something to do with it?” Genya drew a sharp breath. Insulting the King was a crime that warranted death.
“A bit of both.” That wasn’t enough of an answer for me but I decided not to push it.
We parted ways soon after but before we left, the Darkling parted instructions to Genya. “Have her fitted for her kefta. She’ll start training tomorrow.” We had turned away when he called back-“The kefta will be black, Genya.” Genya was stunned, frozen in her place and we watched the Darkling retreat into the opposite direction. I turned back to her.

“Would black really suit me?”

“Saints, Alina. Is that all you care about?,” She breathed, exasperated. I eyed her carefully. She took my arm and we headed towards the entrance.

On our way back, Genya explained to me the significance of a black kefta.
“Only the Darkling wears a black kefta. Other Grisha are forbidden to wear the colour, Alina”, she said matter of factly. This was obvious to me as well. I had known for quite a while that only he wore black. Yet, it hadn’t surprised me in the least that he was willing to share the colour with me. Why was that?

“I am..shocked,” I said. “It’s just been a bit tiresome for me, that’s all. I think I’ll manage more disbelief next morning.”
Colour depicted rank here. I knew that this was something that affected Genya greatly; her white and gold kefta matched the colours of the liveried servants in the Grand Palace. It explained the sneers, the laughter, the Queen’s attitude-although her pointed glare seemed to suggest something else entirely.

Genya called for a maid when we had reached the third floor of the Little Palace. She ordered her to fetch a seamstress and then gave me a long look.
“Would you like to have a tray brought up to your room? You could choose to eat with the other Grisha.”
I briefly imagined rows of tables, all colour co-ordinated.
“Would you be there?”
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly be wel-“
“So you won’t be there. Let’s eat together, then. Here.”
Genya smiled at this, shaking her head. This was probably an exception she was making. She instructed another maid and we retreated to the quietness of my room.

As soon as I had sat on the bed to remove my boots, Genya started reciting the obscure social codes of the Grisha here. “Corporalki don’t sit with Etherealki, Etherealki don’t sit with Fabrikators and-“
“Slow down, Genya.” My head was filled with thoughts already. Too many powerful people in a single day. The order by which Grisha ate together seemed trivial in comparison.
“You’ll have to adapt to the rules here,” she said smoothly. I raised an eyebrow at her.
“There are about a hundred social cues that you’ll need to follow if you want to belong, Alina. You will wear The Darkling’s colour. It is important that you set an example on his behalf. Associate yourself with high order Grisha and act the part you’ve been given to play.” Genya looked a bit worked up now. This was important for her. Her loyalty to the Darkling shone through her tone of voice. Her expression fell slightly when she added,
“Which is why it may lessen your status if you associate yourself with me.”
I smiled at her in reassurance.
“Good thing I have a knack for disregarding rules.”

After the fitting, I ate in silence as Genya chattered about court gossip and random facts she summoned to her head because she thought they might be of use to me.

“You should get some rest,” she said to me before leaving. “After all, you’ll meet Baghra tomorrow.” Her eyes betrayed a wicked glint.
“Baghra?”
“Do tell me how it goes!” She was gone in a flash, leaving me a little confused. Who was Baghra?

I closed the doors, locking them. Tiredness crashed into me again. I changed into a cotton slip and slid into the bed. Remnants of yesterday’s ache still remained. My thoughts sped across all that I had been doing so far in Ravka. I had believed I was ready for all of this. And yet, a small flicker of doubt burrowed into my heart. The maddening politeness had taken a toll on me. I knew how to hide in plain sight, move through villages unnoticed, wilderness untouched. I made connections, friends, I adventured with them, saw the world with them. My bones ached for action and my fingers twitched for the next job to crack. I was hardly a diplomat and the game they played here was one in the shadows, no swords drawn or hands raised.

The discomfort twisted in my chest and I recognised it as fear. I twisted a lock of my hair in my finger, observing its newly obtained lustre.

“This is just another job,” I told myself. I sounded like an idiot. I would stay here, train, somehow destroy the Fold and then maybe grab a drink with Mal. Take Sturmhond’s offer on another adventure. Fight alongside Lorena for the Fjerdan Grisha.

I stared at the canopy above me and placed my hand over my eyes. Who was I kidding?

Chapter Text

The sound of my pen dragging against the paper was one sharp scratch after another, in complete disharmony. Unlike the words, the ink flowed smoothly, only stopping to conjugate the indecision of its writer with black puddles. A small orb of light hovered above my table, witnessing my attempt to keep my promise, piecing the words together only to still with regret as soon as the ink has dried.

Erasable ink would be a good idea.

Mal, its Alina, I'm alright. I need you to know that I had no choice but to leave you the way I did, both then and recently. I need you to know that you're still..you're still Mal to me, and I'm still Alina, despite everything and if you're afraid, I want you to know that

He deserved better than this.

A few minutes later, I had gone back to staring at the bed's canopy, focusing and blurring my gaze to watch iridescent shadows dance on its surface, mirroring the back of my eyelids.

The job. 

I couldn't just walk into Os Alta, train and then blast the Fold into bits in the span of a few weeks. Being their Sun Summoner was a commitment, a duty. It felt uncomfortable on me, like a jacket that was tight around the shoulders-and yet, it was a part of me. My power was mine and mine alone, but the Sun Summoner belonged to all of Ravka. My chest flattened with a long sigh, fingers feeling the soft linen of the bed covers. 

I couldn't run. Not now, not when I had so many things that I could accomplish. Not when he was here; he was an enigma, connection, mystery and meaning, all at once. I couldn't leave this place; my work here was far from over.

At any rate, it wasn't like they would let me walk out the front gates.

What would I have a girl in my position to learn first? She would need more than adequate knowledge of the small science, history and military strategy. She would also need to know the major players in this space and their motivations.

I eyed the slip that Genya had left for me; it was my schedule for tomorrow-and several days after it. I would hold on to my reservations and find out what these sessions held in store for me.

Training with Baghra in the morning and Physical combat in the afternoon, it said. It didn’t look terrible, but Genya’s sneaky smile had betrayed that something would be.

My day started with an echoing knock on the door. A servant, a young woman with mousy hair delivered a kefta made of  rippling black material and my fingers were eager to acquaint themselves with it already.

Fancy material. Definitely corecloth.

I couldn’t help but admire the garment in my hands. The cuffs were emboldened with intricate embroidery made of gold threads. I gingerly placed the kefta on the bed, but wore it upon reconsideration.

I checked my reflection in the mirror now. Less of Alina Starkov, more of Sun Summoner. Strong. Almost..menacing. My fingertips dragged the skin underneath my eye, trying to alter it's shape to something softer, at least for a moment. They gave up immediately afterward, and I settled on satisfaction instead of insecurity.

Could a wolf truly look like a sheep? 

Would I have to try?

My hands moved to twist my hair into a bun. I had no idea what I was supposed to ‘look’ like but the bun seemed formal enough-Genya was nowhere around-I made a mental note to find her during the day to ask her of what was appropriate. I entered the domed hall for breakfast and the room stilled, familiar gasps echoing.

The realisation that I had clearly underestimated the impact of my black kefta crawled in like a spider with broken legs. A swarm of Grisha crowded to me in an instant, asking me things as mundane as if I had slept well, or where I’d prefer to sit. The latter was an actual conundrum, though. I was a Summoner-and Etherealki sat together in one of three long tables. The two others, representing the remaining Orders, were just as tempting to me. After all, where did a Sun Summoner truly belong? Considering that I wasn’t truly like anyone, except for the Darkling perhaps, I could attempt to break the rules.

The Grisha were very close to arguing, their bristling energy rippled across the crowd as they exchanged verbal jabs. My fists clenched in the hopes to strengthen my next action.

“Please.” I maintained my coolest voice. “When I eat here, I will take turns sitting with all the Orders.” I cringed internally-I sounded so conceited.

This seemed to appease the crowd somewhat. Characters like Sergei and Marie weren’t as happy, but learned to cut their losses. Making associations with all three Orders seemed like a good idea; I could sit anywhere I liked and by default, so could Genya. And I would love too see them try and bully Genya then-I was always aching for a good fight. The scene dissolved almost entirely, and I chose to sit with the Summoners today.

Ada-the girl who had backed Marie during the Accession sat to my left. I looked around and Genya was still nowhere to be seen. Marie and another girl, Nadia, flanked my right. They looked too cautious to ask any questions but as soon as I had given Marie a small smile as a greeting, she had started rattling off. Marie talked animatedly and turned so often to Nadia for a firm nod of approval that she barely noticed that I had started a small conversation with Ada instead. Ada’s blue kefta was lined with red embroidery, which was how I ascertained that she was an Inferni, much like Marie was.

“Does she always-“

“Talk this much, yes.” Ada cast her a sharp glance, one she was too oblivious to notice.
We shared a comfortable silence, only to be broken by Marie’s chat with Nadia, who now commanded all of her attention. I eyed an empty dark table that guarded a large set of ebony doors. The Corporalki and Etherealki tables angled towards it, the end meeting the edges of the table. Ada followed my curious gaze.

“The Darkling sits there, but we never really see him here. Its a great honour to be seated next to the Darkling,” she explained. My gaze lingered on the ornate doors, animals in vines covering the Darkling’s symbol. He was probably in there somewhere, wasn’t he?

Some other Summoners that had observed me for long enough decided that I didn’t bite and approached me eagerly.

There was a smattering of questions; a lot concerning where I had come from and where I had been all this time. I managed to weave my way out with half truths, dodging specific questions and elaborating on generic ones. There were several oohs and ahhs for my narration of what had happened on the skiff-I steered clear of dangerous details. I wasn’t going to let them know that I had been travelling, or anything else that would be used against me. To them I would be a girl that lucked out, but I didn’t know how long the impression would last.

Knowing my now weaker impulse control, probably not long.

When they asked about the Drüskelle ambush, I barely said a word of significance. The volcra were monsters. The Drüskelle were men. Once they had gotten their fill of me, the small crowd dispersed. Ada gave me a pitying glance, her hand playing with a lock of light brown hair. 

“You barely ate”, she said. I looked down at the table and gathered a fist full of plums.

“This will keep me alive,” I joked. I really did love plums. She shook her head in motherly disappointment and smiled.

“To balance what falls on your shoulders, you need to eat a lot more than a handful of plums.”

“She’s right about that,” a voice piped in.

Genya regarded my attire before giving me a dazzling smile. “For what it’s worth, you’re a lot easier to spot in a crowd,” she said lightly. Marie and Nadia had stopped their chat to grimace at Genya, as though the food in their mouths had soured immediately. What exactly for, I neither understood nor liked. I cast Marie a hard look before rising from my seat, plums in hand. A servant had rushed to help, but looked sheepish when he saw that I had managed perfectly without him. I felt apologetic; it would be hard getting used to things like this.

I bid Ada goodbye and walked with Genya, who would now give me a tour of the Little Palace. Either that or I would have wandered on my own and broken into a room filled with explosives by pure instinct for disaster.

We walked past a hallway with different rooms housing different types of Grisha. Red lacquered doors hid the training rooms of the Corporalki. I had trained extensively with Tamar and Tolya when I was with Sturmhond’s crew, which helped ease my aversion to them. I wasn’t too comfortable with the concept of healers either; if you knew to fix what was broken, you’d also know exactly how to make it worse. The Corporalki trained in secret, which was understandable considering the somewhat gruesome nature of their abilities.

Glass windows displayed a Fabrikator workshop in full swing. Busy figures robed in purple moved around and about, taking readings and experimenting with strange materials. Genya pushed one of the painfully intricate double doors and entered the room swiftly. I followed suit.
The room buzzed with a curious energy, almost inspiring me to take up a vial and learn something from everyone in it. A few Fabrikators stood over a half cut diamond the size of a melon, muttering amongst themselves. Light streamed through the glass panels and upon contact, the diamond burst the light into millions of iridescent rays. I briefly imagined a dagger made of diamond in my hand, splitting the light and distracting the target before it pierced for the kill. Then I realised that owning a weapon that would motivate people to try and kill you so that they could take your weapon for themselves probably wasn’t that great a weapon to begin with. Besides, glass worked too, minus the obvious disadvantages.

Genya had reached the other end of the room by then and I followed her, glancing at the different experiments that took place. Genya’s eyes fixed on a wiry man who was arranging a number of glass discs in a particular order. She then cleared her throat and said, “Hi David.” David muttered an incoherent response, but apparently that was expected. Genya continued on.

“This is Alina, the Sun Summoner.”

“This will be yours soon,” he said without looking up. I surveyed the glass discs and frowned.

“You barely know what I’m capable of. How could you design something for me if that were the case?”
David raised his head to look at me for the first time.

“The theory is strong. You will find this useful.” His tone was a little clipped, like he wanted to explain this theory to me but erased the words in his mind to spare me confusion. Genya gave me a slight shrug.

“I’ll see you around David,” she said. Another mumbled response left his lips as he continued his work. As we exited the room, Genya told me more about David. I understood two things then; David was a bit awkward but was incredibly
talented-he understood metal a lot more than humans. The second was that Genya was completely mad for him, which warmed my heart immensely. If she could fall for David, there was still hope for love in the world.

We reached the last corridor on the floor and I could see the lake clearly. A smidge of white buildings lined it.

“Those are the Summoner’s pavilions,” Genya explained. “Summoners train outside because we can’t risk someone burning the place down in here.” That was understandable. “Would I train there with them?”, I asked, curling my fingers on the railing.

“I’m not sure, actually. Summoners are split as partners and since there’s no one like you.. I think the Darkling is yet to make his decision on this.”
That didn’t sound particularly reassuring. What was the point of being near all these Grisha in training if I couldn’t test my strengths against them?

We took a path that curved until the end of the lake and the beginning of a forest. A small stone hut stood there, almost hidden Genya gave my arm a short squeeze and I turned to look at her.

“I can’t go further than here. Have fun with your lesson!,” she gave me a knowing smirk and walked back. I eyed the hut warily.

It couldn’t be that bad, right?

When I opened the wooden door, a blast of heat rushed out of the hut. I slipped in and slammed it immediately. I could barely see a thing; the single exception being the glow from the fireplace. The heat was intense and formed beads of sweat on my forehead. It didn’t help much though. Shadows seemed to shift ever so slightly in the solid darkness, and I decided to say something.

“Show yourself.”

A guttural laugh came, but I couldn’t place the exact direction from which it emerged.

“Show yourself, she says..Show yourself first you dull child!” I wasn’t sure what the voice had meant, but decided to end the charade anyway. I called for light to drag this place out of darkness.
The edges of the door filled with an intense light, rushing through to swallow the dark in a single flash. I could see the room now, and the old woman who stood across me. Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed me.

The woman betrayed very little signs of the weariness that shrouded the elderly. Her hair was dark and her face was timeless; it held youth and age in the same place. I wondered if I would look like her in my old age. She angled a stick in her bony hand and walked around me in circles, eyes still narrowed. The colour of her kefta had faded, its original colour unrecognisable now.

“So the Sun Summoner has arrived,” she crowed. “Thankfully it was convenient for her to do so, otherwise we’d just have to wait for another to save us all.”

Ah. Yes, I had seen this coming.
“Can’t imagine it matters,” I said coldly. She tapped her stick in disagreement.

“It matters, you dull girl. Every move you make matters. You may have roamed around freely until now, but you will have to stay focused if you want to see the Fold destroyed.” She stood in front of me again.

“Where are you from?”

“Keramzin.”

“Where are your parents?”

“Dead.”

“What killed them?”

“Fire.”

“Whose fire?”

Bile rose in my throat. Baghra continued on.

“Where did you go?”

“North of Chernast.”

“What did you do?”

“Train.”

“Why are you here now?”

“To save my country.”

“Are you strong?”

“Yes.” Baghra tutted at that.

“I’ll see it to believe it, girl. Outside, now,” she barked.

We stood on the ground right outside her hut. The sun wasn’t at its highest quite yet, but it’s rays reached us well enough.

“What are you waiting for?” Baghra snapped. “Show me!” I glared at her and clapped my hands together in a swift motion. The idle grounds stretched before us was the target. I called for the sun to strike the ground ahead of us and a column of light larger than Baghra’s hut struck the ground. I willed its intensity, its heat to increase and the column of light became an overwhelming pillar of sunfire, drowning everything around it in a white light. I forced the light to dissolve into a single strand, the column thinning in seconds and disappearing, leaving a cloud of smoke and ash.

I half expected Baghra to snap at me for stopping without her instruction but she gave me a long look instead. She quickly turned to her hut, frowning and muttering something. Soon after, she said,

“Come with me, girl.”

I followed her back inside. She turned to look at me, an unreadable look on her face. She then grabbed my arm and a surge of power rushed through me. I knew what she was then-a human amplifier. The Darkling was said to be one as well and I briefly thought about the effect his touch on me had had.

“Do you believe that you can destroy the Shadow Fold?” She asked as soon as her hand left my arm, leaving me feeling hollow all of a sudden.

“I do.”

“Then there is hope yet,” she said, and then turned to rummage through a pile of books in a dark corner. Surety rushed through my veins. If this woman could show a sliver of optimism, then I truly did stand a chance.

She handed me a piece of parchment. I looked at the names scrawled on it-names of books.

Baghra looked at me again and sniffed. “Don’t waste your time with these classes of yours. Your path is different. Read these books in your spare time. I expect full recollections of what you have read every time I see you.”

My heart started to race. This was progress.

A small silence fell.

“What are you waiting for, girl? Get out,” she barked. I exited the hut as swiftly as I could.
When I walked the path back to the palace, I noticed that the ground I had trained the light on had blackened completely, marring the otherwise beautifully verdant field. I felt a twinge of regret-perhaps the Summoners grounds had a more appropriate space for me.

My pacing slowed with the realisation that I had time to kill. Now could be the time for some fruitful exploration-Slipping between halls, listening in for words of interest, these were things I had grown to enjoy. 

It struck me then that I was yet to see the library-something I would fix immediately. Few things felt more satisfying than the acquisition of knowledge-and knowing was essential if I wanted to keep my mind sharpened during my stay here.

The palace stood in the distance across the grounds and the sight filled me with a buzzing anticipation. This was the beginning of something new, after all.

Heads turned as I walked in every available direction to find the library. I had made too many attempts to now confess to a bystander that I was in search of a place that probably had an obvious location, leaving me to take turns into new corridors in pretend-curiosity. Someone managed to notice my struggle and approached me.

Someone I wasn’t too fond of.

“Searching for something?” The intensity of the Apparat’s eyes always suggested an underlying meaning with his words, which annoyed me immensely.

“Just the library.”

“Knowledge is power indeed.. follow me, Miss Starkov.” Sheer instinct would guide me to smack him on the head, but I restrained myself.

The library was a few stories high with an ornate skylight covering its roof, filled with an almost perennial stream of books, flowing across the walls of the hall and stacked in rosewood shelves on the floor, rife with the sweet, musky smell that books inherited with age. My heart skipped at the sight, bones suddenly aching to run a finger across the leather-bound spines, studying the script on them. The library in Duke Keramsov's mansion could have never compared to the grandiosity of this place. I would have marvelled at it just a bit longer, but the Apparat’s unnerving gaze didn’t let me.

“Searching for something in particular?”

I froze. Whatever Baghra wanted me to study, I didn’t want this man to know of it.

“Just browsing,” I said smoothly. The Apparat then walked past me to reach a book on a shelf right above me. He held the scent of an old book too-only this one I had no appreciation for. He smelled like a book that had been damaged by constant flooding, mixed with mold and incense. Something dangerous to breathe in.

“I would like for you to read a little on our Saints,” he said. He placed a few books on a circular table with curving benches. He then retrieved a book from his black robes and handed it to me.

I was familiar with this one. Istorii Sankt’ya- The Lives of Saints. I had frequented churches for food when I travelled across Ravka. My fingers brushed across the pages, often stopping to study a detailed illustration. If people were remembered for how they had lived, Saints were remembered for how they had died.

“They call you Sankta Alina, did you know?”

My legs stiffened.

“Yes, and no, I don’t think I’m a Saint.” The Apparat smiled and I sincerely wished that I’d never see it again.

“They build Altars in your name. They worship the Sun, and now they worship you.”

I knew that he had suppressed the urge to say ‘we’ just then. Was he trying to gauge my reaction? I narrowed my eyes at him.

“People will take what little hope they get. I don’t blame them for that.” My heart turned heavy with understanding; my existence meant something to people, and while the fact made me extremely uncomfortable, a small part of me wanted to be someone they could truly believe in.

“However,” I said firmly. “I won’t be ruled by the hopes and expectations of others. I will do everything in my power to help my country.” I refused to be controlled by anyone, especially this man. I stared into his eyes, daring him to disagree.

The Apparat had run out of space for slippery words.

“We must be good friends, Miss Starkov...You may not see it now, but when your spirit requires my guidance, I will be there to help you.”

When he left the library, I sighed. Why was this man so confident about being so creepy?

I felt too rattled by the Apparat’s words to search for the books on Baghra’s list. This trove of knowledge would have to wait a little longer; and I would attempt to devour it greedily as soon as the opportunity presented itself. When I reached the domed hall, Genya was waiting for me in one of the velvet sofas that lined it.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Baghra.”

Ah. I briefly recalled my interaction with Baghra this morning.

“Pleasant. Perfectly pleasant woman."

She laughed and I shook my head in exasperation. We then moved to our table, where Ada gave us a small wave, gesturing to us to sit next to her.

“First day with Baghra, right? Genya told me,” she grinned. I sighed and they exchanged knowing smiles.

“It wasn’t too bad, actually,” I half realised out loud. “She just wasn’t very...well..”

“Nice?”

“Civil?”

“Human?”

I smiled. Ada and Genya then started on different accounts of Baghra’s classes.
“I heard that she rolled a Tidemaker down the hill once.” Ada grinned at that.

“That’s nothing. Once she locked an Inferni in a dark room for three days.”

They started adding more accounts, almost competing with eachother on who had the most entertaining story. Having met Baghra, I could see all of them being true.

Halfway through my third piece of bread, the doors behind the Darkling’s table opened. The hall froze. Anticipation built in my heart as I shared a glance with Genya.

Out of them came Ivan, looking as pleasant as he usually did. Hollow whispers filled the room, all eyes trained on me now. Ivan walked towards me. He reached the table and executed a sharp bow that I could only imagine caused him immense grief.

“Alina Starkov, come with me. Please,” he said between gritted teeth. I flashed him a sardonic smile.

“If you ask of it, I have no choice.”
I looked at Genya hesitantly, but she squeezed my arm to give me some courage. Ada gave me a grin and waved her hand frantically, gesturing for me to get going. I steeled myself for second and followed.

Chapter Text

Perfect silence continued to echo as I followed Ivan into the dark corridor. A sudden chill caught hold of me as I followed the black intaglio vines that crawled across the wallpaper. Golden frames hung over the walls with no paintings and the familiarity of the space filled me with an indescribable emotion. Two Oprichniki closed the doors as soon as we had passed. The corridor turned in three ways, none of them surprising to me.

We reached the War Room soon enough. The Darkling had a chair pulled up to a set of maps and documents that laid on the large table. He gestured to Ivan to leave us and after another sharp bow, Ivan disappeared.

Panic seized me briefly-one that had me feeling like I had been dragged into this place by another vision of mine. The physicality of being here satisfied and disturbed me equally, as though my body had meant to come here all this time, but my mind was opposed to the concept.

And why was I here now?

“I assume this room is still familiar to your eyes, Alina,” he said as his quartz eyes met mine. I tried to smile.

“What did you call me for?”

He frowned slightly.

“I didn’t realise I needed a strong reason to see you. I wanted to eat lunch with you but if the idea displeases you, you can return to your friends immediately.”

Oh. Eating food was one of the strangest power struggles in the Little Palace for sure.

“I would love to,” I said brusquely. He gave me another one of his faint smiles and left his chair to open another door near the corner of the room.

“Seen this place?”, he asked as I stepped in. I shrugged. The room was as large as mine, except it was a library-rows of shelves housed hundreds of books, enveloping all the walls of the room. A long table with two chairs at each end centred it. Food was already on the table; the same I had seen in the domed hall.

He knew I’d say yes. Damn.

“I can’t fully remember what I’ve seen and what I haven’t,” I told him. He cocked his head at that slightly, studying the tone of my language. I fixed my gaze on the bread I had previously abandoned.

“What did you eat when you were younger?” My eyes widened at the question. 

“We ate whatever food rations were left over. Bread, porridge, things like that," I said.

“And this was in Keramzin?”

Enigmatic man. Why was he asking me this? 

I stilled, realising that I had never asked Mal how much he had told the Darkling about me. I nodded stiffly and searched my plate for a place to hide. The porcelain had small blue vines painted around its curve and I wondered if its make was Ravkan.

“What was your life like there?” I looked up to see his face angled in curiosity.

“It wasn’t too bad,” I said, a wave of nostalgia flooding through me as I spoke. “We climbed trees, stole fruit, skipped pebbles and got into loads of trouble.” An emptiness followed soon after, taking whatever caution I had and turning it into something much heavier. It hadn’t been too bad, yet things had ended the way they had.

“You keep saying ‘we’. Do you mean you and that tracker?” He mused. I noticed that he had hardly touched his plate, all his attention focused on getting answers out of me, answers that should be inconsequential, and therefore irrelevant to a man like him.

“If you keep asking questions, you won’t be able to eat a single thing,” I told him pointedly. He hummed in acknowledgement-a beautiful, dark sound. I took my turn to study him as he finally turned his attention to his plate. When I'd least expected it, his eyes caught mine in a split second, warming my cheeks in the process.

“No questions of your own?”

“None appropriate for now, no.”

“You’re not curious?”

“You’re not hungry?”

I had already emptied my plate. His lips curved again and he pushed a small porcelain bowl in my direction. I left the chair to see what was in it.

I removed the bowl’s ornate lid to uncover a dozen sugar plums. I immediately took one to my lips until I remembered that there hadn’t been any on the table in the domed hall. At breakfast, there had been plums, but not sugared ones. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion, despite the trill of my traitorous heart.

“You like sugar plums?”

“Not particularly, no. Do you?” Something glinted in his eyes.

Oh, saints. Was I being watched?

“Yes,” I said, and then bit into one. It was achingly sweet. I leaned on the table and studied his expression, hoping that my resistance to the pull was enough to keep me from leaning any closer towards him. He looked a little amused like he was challenging me to accuse him of something.

I didn’t say a word-I couldn’t bear to give him the satisfaction. This was a minuscule thing but it bothered me immensely-heart more than the mind.

“How did it go with Baghra?” I had expected this question around the very beginning. I shrugged slightly, plum still in hand.

“She’s tough but she said that there’s hope yet for me, which I have decided is a high compliment coming from her.” The Darkling’s eyebrows almost raised in surprise. His features then broke into a devastating smile and I remembered him as my company from all those years ago. My heart stirred and I was a girl again, feeding my loneliness off of the slightest slip in his cold expressions. 

“It indeed is.”

A knock sounded against the door. With the Darkling’s permission, Ivan stepped in and handed a single sheet of paper to him. His eyes ran over it and he waved a pale hand at Ivan to leave.

“We’ll meet again soon,” he said as he got up from his chair. He gave me a small bow and I made my way to the War Room’s entrance, my mi Before I could exit the door, his voice rang through the room.

“The kefta suits you, by the way.”

If I had turned back, he would have seen my blush. I mumbled a weak “Thanks,” and shuffled out of the room quickly.

I exited through the Darkling’s main doors and immediately felt burdened by the mere spectacle of the action. Good thing was that Ada rushed me out of the hall quickly as the chatters echoed behind us.

I asked Ada where Genya had gone.

“She has to be at the Grand Palace now,” Ada replied. “The Queen fusses a lot when she’s not there.”

I felt annoyed on Genya’s behalf.

We walked around the grounds near the lake. The sky was a clear azure and a crisp breeze gave us company. We had an hour until Botkin’s class. I kicked a small rock into the distance.

“So”, Ada said, a familiar grin on her face.

“So.”

The questions started then.

“What’s it all look like? Why did he call you? I was really worried at first but Genya told me that it was probably nothing serious!”
I explained what I had done for the past hour.

When Ada learned that I had eaten lunch with him, her cheeks puffed a little in disappointment.

“Eating with the Darkling alone is almost unheard of, but I was hoping you’d hear something more interesting,” she said dejectedly. “There have been rumours that Fjerdan delegates are somewhere in West Ravka now. But then again,” she sighed, “I don’t think you could retrieve any information just like that.”

I said nothing at that.

“Interested in politics?”

“It affects where Grisha get stationed after they leave the Little Place. I won’t be leaving anytime soon, but I prefer keeping an eye on things.” That made sense. If you didn’t serve noble houses, you would be stationed somewhere alongside First Army troops. If not that, then travelling with political figures and delegates was interesting work for sure.

Ada and I walked towards the west stables, where Botkin’s class awaited us. The man was a former Shu mercenary and the more I heard about him from Ada, the more excited I was at the prospect of fighting him.

We entered one of several spacious training rooms. I noticed the multitude of weapons that lined the walls and my hands reached for my scabbards by instinct. I missed them.
Perhaps I could bring them here. I would ask Botkin later.

Other Grisha started to gather, most of them stopping to give me a long look-something I was used to by now. Ada and I took turns examining the impressive collection of weapons.

We started with endurance drills. Running across palace grounds helped dispel a bit of tiredness that still lingered in my body. It was always good to have fresh air in your lungs. When we returned, Botkin paired us up for sparring. When he paired himself with me, I wasn’t surprised.

“I will test your strength now, Sun girl.” His eyes and the glint in them briefly reminded me of Tamar and Tolya. He was a fighter.

We had stepped inside one of several rings that filled the room. Some of the Grisha gathered to watch. Botkin stood in front of me now, his frame eclipsing mine. From the gruesome scar on his neck, I could tell that he had seen and partaken in real violence. A man like that restricted himself when he fought without bloodlust. The idea that he would hold back annoyed me, despite all logic. I would have to force him to call forth his ruthlessness if I wanted a good fight and I wasn’t sure if I could accomplish such a thing. If I did, I wasn’t sure that I wouldn’t regret it.

He opened the fight with a fist rushing straight to my face, which I swiftly avoided. If any of those made contact, it would hurt. A lot. The realisation motivated me as I continued to evade his attacks. Even a block would cost me something, but Botkin would eventually give me no choice. That time wasn’t now, though. I dodged, dodged some more and when he had expected me to evade, I lunged to sink my fist into his lower abdomen, pain rising into my shoulder with a sharp stab. He staggered back and barked a laugh, which couldn’t possibly be good.

“Girl can fight, but can she win?”

It was hard not to take that personally.

A minute in, the clarity I had held onto so carefully had dissolved into a blur of pure rage. My body moved without me willing it, striking blow after blow, pain rippling through my bones as I swung at him, fists bruising. Botkin met me with his own counters, but my heart wanted him to let his anger bleed into his bones the same way mine had. I swayed between his attacks, possessed by a violent element, pushing me to push him, to tear him open and give me the blood that both of us needed to see.

He slipped past my punches and landed a swift blow to my right rib, scattering my balance. My feet staggered back, but my body still screamed for blood. I threw myself forward and feinted a punch-I then stopped my momentum with my left foot, put all my weight into my right leg and attempted a swift roundhouse kick to his neck. The kick connected and Botkin staggered to the side, my intensity reflected in his eyes.

I would take him to the edge, and I would kill him there. The fight devolved into a flurry of punches and kicks, the air now turned heavy with a pulsating heat, waiting for us to catch fire at any moment. Rage had become me entirely, swirling in my body like wildfire smoke. I needed blood-and when I would draw out his, I would see that he was the same. That he was just like me.

In all my blinding anger, I couldn't react in time after Botkin had decided that he had had enough. He swiftly moved aside and grabbed the back of my kefta’s collar. He then sent me flying out of the ring with a single throw, rattling my bones as I rolled onto the ground. I coughed into the dust and looked at the high ceiling above.

That’s when I knew I had gone too far. I knew and yet, the cold rage still rushed through me, begging me to slice him open, to show him what I was truly capable of. I closed my eyes for a second and then got back up, dusting myself as I did.

Botkin had a mixture of concern and rage on his face. More of the latter.

“Animal girl. Old injuries made worse!” His voice shook with fury. My hand rushed to my rib and he was right; a sharp pain shot through like an arrow. I had been too reckless.

Animal girl.

I looked around. All the training had stopped; my classmates had been drawn in by our fight, all eyes widened, thrilled, horrified, entertained by my spectacle. Botkin called for a Grisha in red to escort me but I waved him off, opting to walk myself to the infirmary instead. Beyond the rage that still pulsated in my blood, pain seeped in, accompanying a swarm of darker, uglier things. My body felt a searing chill gnaw at me from within, as though trying to tell me that something was terribly, terribly wrong. But was it? As I walked out of the ring, the murmurs of the Grisha around me had started to increase, all dirty, convoluted comments, all eyes watching, waiting for me to trip, waiting for me to collapse, to conclude their entertainment for today. Had they thought I’d lost? That I was weak, stupid?

“Shut up.” My voice was a harsh growl. They just wouldn’t stay quiet. Fear rippled in the air, its stench satisfying me greatly. The murmuring stopped abruptly, replaced by a tense silence. I walked towards the entrance, nails digging into my palms. Why was I so angry? Why did I feel this itch in my bones-one that would only leave if I tore someone apart?

Botkin instructed me to wait outside for him but I couldn’t stand still anymore, not for a single second. Sweat ran down my forehead as I paced towards the main building. Another wave of annoyance crashed and I could barely hold onto my sense of reason. Too slow. Too frustrating. I flashed rapidly towards the building, reaching the interior in no time. I had landed behind two Grisha who then knocked themselves over in surprise.

“The infirmary,” I exhaled. “Where is it?”
One wide-eyed Fabrikator stammered out directions. I stormed through to face the entrance of a hall with rows of beds inside and another door at the opposite end.

A man made his way through it, his dark eyes scanning me for obvious damage. He stopped briefly, bowed, and then asked me to sit on one of the beds. I did as he asked and he hurried out of the room.

Sitting still was hard when you wanted to swing a blade at a thousand people. Every other moment I asked myself what had happened for such rage to fill me, yet before I could answer the rage returned. A handsome man in red entered the room, drenched in sweat and I recognised him as the Corporalnik Botkin had instructed to assist me. He held on to the door frame, panting, dark eyes widened.

He had run all the way here, clearly. Had I put him in trouble? He gave me a short bow and immediately placed himself on the bed in front of me, all while steadying his own breath.

“Miss Starkov, please allow me to do this one thing.” I hadn’t understood his breathless request but he had taken my wrist in his hand by then. He circled his thumb over it very slowly and then closed his eyes. I froze a little. This was a Heartrender, and I didn’t know what he was doing to me.

Before I could react, things started to slow. Or to be specific, my heart started to slow. The rage, the endless abyss of rage that I had felt started to melt away. Slowly, I felt my restless energy ebb out of me, leaving my body to feel the full weight of the tiredness and pain it had been carrying so long. There was so much pain, a blanket of it above me, a poison swirling in my bloodstream, telling every nerve in my body to scream. The worst of it was the ache in my heart that would have killed me if I had recognized its presence even a second earlier. The man pushed my shoulders down gently and all of it retreated, leaving its hollow host in darkness. 

When I woke up, the sky had darkened considerably. A comforting hollowness had settled in me, telling me that whatever I had felt was no longer here. My feet dragged me across the infirmary but the Heartrender from earlier had caught up with me this time.

“Miss, let me come with you.”

Come with me where? A pang of hunger struck me then, and I realised that I hadn’t eaten in a while.

“Fair enough. We’ll walk to the domed hall together.” I took a good look at him when I said it. He gave me a small smile and then bowed slightly.

“My name is Ellyott.”

“And you know mine, so call me Alina.”

”You’re impossibly fast, Miss Alina.”

“Well, you caught me this time.” We exchanged smiles at that.

The thought of eating in the domed hall started to vex me already. I would have to get used to the attention I received from other Grisha; I had developed an instinct to dislike people watching me due to the nature of my work and well, my own nature. My hands traced the soft material of my kefta and small part of me wondered if I should have opted for Summoners' Blue instead.

I parted ways with Ellyott when we split towards our respective tables. My eyes found Ada’s smile soon enough.

“That was some fight, Alina.” She sounded genuinely impressed.

“Not scared?”

She laughed at this heartily.

“I’m terrified, but I still think you’re impressive. When I saw you fight Botkin, I realised why you wore the Darkling’s colour.”

I didn’t know how to interpret that.

“And the others? What do they make of it?” I looked around the room and most of the eyes that had dared to stare at me to chatter seemed to avoid me now.

“Well, a good number of Grisha saw Botkin call you an animal, so I don’t think anyone has plans to mess with you. Except me,” she said brightly. “I would love to spar with someone like you.”

“And physical combat is important but it’ll never count the same as using our abilities,” she added.

I nodded in silence and surveyed the table. Roast chicken and vegetables. Not bad at all.

“There are rumours that you grew up as a slave and became a fighter, though,” Ada said, then gestured her head to Marie, who had decided to sit two paces away from us.

“That’s lovely.” I bit back my laughter.

The table was fully blue (except for my black) tonight. Genya wasn’t here.

“I should really expect Genya lesser than I do,” I said. Ada nodded and stabbed at her plate.

“Her place isn’t here, Alina. We can’t change that. I did see her earlier, though. She had visited you in the infirmary.” My eyes widened at that but gratitude settled in soon enough. That was why I had recovered so quickly. Genya had come to my aid. The thought warmed me immediately, and I felt a surge of affection for the redhead.

“Of course, I tried to see you as well, but the Oprichniki outside wouldn’t let me.”

I groaned internally. I knew what that meant.

I would have to answer him tomorrow.

Chapter Text

In an ideal situation, I would have time to prepare my defence for getting injured on my first day of training.

Sadly, fate had other plans for me.

I felt the pull; much stronger than before and my dreams shifted me into a beautiful ebony furnished room. A space that I knew. Still, I searched its contents for confirmation. The ceiling held panels of hunting scenes with intricate vines crawling from the corners. A large canopied bed stood in the centre of the room and a table with piles of documents stood close to its farthest wall.

Against said table leaned my shadowed man, eyes gleaming in the dimly lit room.

“It worked.”

My eyes instinctively searched for the door and found it soon enough-threads of light still made it into the windowless space.

“You..you called me?” My heart skipped a beat. Not good.

“Yes.”

I didn’t know how to escape this. I didn’t know what would happen if I opened the door and ran. Would I find myself in my room, asleep? I stood still. This was too dangerous.

I would just have to wait until time ran out.

“Well, now that’s just inconvenient.” My voice betrayed some of my anxiety.

“Is it, now?” I could imagine a smirk forming on his face. “You have been watching me for years and I learn now that you’re the inconvenienced one..how surprising.”

He had a point. I shrugged and even though there was hardly any light, I had a feeling that he could see me just fine.

“How are you feeling, Alina?” He asked suddenly. I remembered Ada mentioning his Oprichniki standing outside the Infirmary.

“I feel alright.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it was good enough. I felt exposed; like I had been forced to confront my nature for the very first time.

“If that is the case,” he said airily. He walked towards me now, all darkness.

“A bruised rib, a fractured wrist and bloodied knuckles, all in the span of a few minutes.” His voice turned dangerously low.“The precious Sun Summoner that I waited years and years to finally reach, my ghost finally materialised into a girl, the only glimmer of hope I have, that we have and yet.” I held my breath and the weight of his presence sat on my lungs.

“Yet, you found yourself in the infirmary on the very first day of your training.”

I said nothing. A chill crawled up the tips of my fingers.

“Either you really are that reckless, either I have to control you,” His voice cracked like a whip just then. “restrain you, and never let you out of my sight,”

“Or something was wrong with you today.”

He stood in front of me now, searching my expression. I couldn’t hide. Not anymore.

“The anger, it just took over.” My voice shook. “By the time I realised, It was too late.”

“Has this happened before?”

“No.”

“Explain exactly what happened.” He crossed his arms and listened intently as I narrated the fight. He gave it some thought, expression as unreadable as always.

“Alina, you’ve lived a difficult life. You’ve survived on instincts alone and mostly fought to kill.. perhaps it’s understandable why you displayed bloodlust when fighting Botkin-you may have recognised a kindred spirit.” My eyes widened. I hadn’t thought of it like that. I loved a good fight but it was true-I fought to survive more than anything else.

“I just wanted to push his limits,” I admitted.

“Good thing it didn’t kill you,” he said dryly.

“Doesn’t matter, I would have finished him quickly in a real fight.” Botkin may look like he’s made of steel, but my blade of light wouldn’t care if he was steel or not.

“Sour grapes.”

“Oh please.”

He laughed and I saw the glimpse of a human being then. Warmth flooded my cheeks.

The pull’s inverse had started its work. I had to go. The Darkling recognised this.

“Before you go, I’d like to confirm one thing.”

His pale hand seized mine and I felt the same rush of power I had felt in Baghra’s hut, only a thousand times stronger. I gaped at him.

He could touch me.

“Goodnight, Alina.”

Genya was at my door the next morning and a part of me really wanted to talk to her about my encounter with the Darkling.

“Where have you been?” I asked as she immediately took my hair in her hands for inspection.

“Busy. The Queen will meet ambassadors from Novyi Zem tomorrow and she’s trying to ‘get a certain look done’ before that happens,” she said bitterly.

“It makes sense for a royal pain to be the greatest pain of them all.” She smiled a little while placing her jars on the table.

“Sit.”

“Whatever for?”

“Oh you know, to give you horns.”

That did sound interesting. I sat on the chair and Genya started her work.

“Also,” she said almost nonchalantly, “you can’t attend Botkin’s class today.” My eyes narrowed, which she saw in the mirror. “You can observe, but if you want these injuries to go you’ll have to stay put.” I sighed. Despite what happened, I did enjoy Botkin’s class yesterday.

Genya carefully braided the locks of my hair and pulled them back to create a half-crown. The rest of my hair cascaded in waves. I admired her work in silence.

“You know, the Darkling is pleased with your current capabilities.” I raised a brow. Was he now?

“He didn’t sound too happy about it last night.” I realised my slip as soon as I said it.

“Last night?” Her golden eyes fixed on me.

“Not what you think. He just wanted to hear my account.” Genya’s eyes narrowed still, but then returned to normal as she slid an ornate golden pin into my hair.

“Is that-“

“Real gold, yes. It’s for you.”

“Thank you.. and thank you for helping me yesterday. You’re better than all the healers they’ve got.” Her perfect lips curved.

“It’s no matter. With a disaster like you for a friend, I at least have someone to practice my skills on.” She called me a friend. I felt warmed.

“How good of me to do that.” I grinned. She focused on my face, removing scratches from yesterday.

“Alina.” Her voice turned sombre.

“Please be careful.”

“Careful of what?”

“Powerful men.”

She was right. Powerful men ruled the world and there were more than enough in this place alone.

“But the way I think you’re turning out, they should beware of you as well.” I saw her sly grin reflected.

“I won’t let anyone get the best of me. You shouldn’t either, Genya.” Genya was an astonishingly beautiful woman. Anyone could tell that most men desired her. A shadow crossed her features.

“One day, Alina. I know it for sure.” Her voice was laced with venom and bitterness. I turned to look at her, blood rushing to my head. Was she..?

“That story is for later, Alina.” She read my thoughts. But I didn’t care. Shreds of yesterday’s rage started to grow in my heart again.

“Just give me a name, please.” I would kill him. I would kill him for sure. I would hunt him like one hunted an animal. I would let Genya watch.

“This is my fight,” she said, shutting me up effectively. “But I’m glad that I have you on my side.” Her hand reached my shoulder and I tried to relax. I reached the tips of her fingers with mine. My rage dissolved-for now. If she needed me, I would be there for her in whatever way required.

We sat with the Materialki today. My decision was mostly based on a thin man in purple who sat at their table’s edge. Genya glowed at the very sight of him. I was good enough to let them converse awkwardly and focus on my perfectly decent bowl of porridge.

The other Materialki were happy that I had chosen them over the Corporalki. I wanted to tell them that I really wasn’t that important but they didn’t seem like the type that would believe me. A few talked to me, mostly inquiring about the nature of my power. I wasn’t going to give them a list of my abilities but it was interesting to converse about the aspects of the sun that my powers reflected. I made a mental note to research more on this myself.

History and Grisha theory were extremely interesting. It was a little disappointing that no instruction for Sun Summoners existed in specific-It meant that I would have to continue learning on my own. My instructor-a kindly old man in red-left me to study on my own and I hoped that the Apparat wouldn’t slip in to interrupt me. I then took to source the list of books Baghra had given me. An hour in and I couldn’t find even one of them. The library was humongous but it still had sections. I looked at the titles again-I didn’t know if I could ask anyone to help me find these. I would ask Baghra about this later.

Lunch was uneventful. I saw Ada from a distance and gave her a small wave. She waved back. “So, will you attend Botkin’s class today?”, she asked as we walked out of the domed hall in unison. I told her of my fate and she snickered.

“Fair enough, fair enough.”

When Botkin saw me, he came up to me and slapped me on the back, hard.

So much for being injured.

“You will rest and observe. Fight to disarm, not kill,” he said gruffly. I looked at his arms and the shadow of a bruise remained on both. I smiled apologetically.

“Next class, we fight again.” My smile grew.

I strolled around, watching pairs of Grisha spar. They looked a little uncomfortable fighting without their abilities but managed a clean show regardless. Befitting of Second Army soldiers that would leave the Little Palace when the time came. Ada was on a rampage-she moved from one opponent to another the quickest. There were clear advantages to being a hothead after all.

The rest of the day was a blur. I retreated to the library to continue my search. The floor above held a registry of the books it housed and while it navigating it alone took me two hours, it still helped narrow my search. It occurred to me then that the books Baghra wanted me to find might be dangerous. They could be locked up somewhere, or someone could have taken them before I did. I looked at the list again.

Small science and Magic.. Balance Theory..

The names looked innocent enough, but if that was the case, why couldn’t I find them? Perhaps I did have to ask the librarian-an elderly Grisha man in purple who occasionally walked by to offer his assistance. The man approached me when he realised that I needed him.

“How may I be of assistance, Miss Starkov?”

I gave him the list and he frowned.

“I’m afraid we house no such books here.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. We were surrounded by an organised tornado of books.

“And you’re sure about this?” He nodded and I didn’t see any tells of deception. Alright then.

“Are there any other libraries nearby?”

“Only the one in the Grand Palace, Miss Starkov.” The Grand Palace couldn’t possibly house a book on Grisha subjects, but then, it would be the perfect place for one to hide one.

“Would I be allowed inside?”, I asked tentatively. He placed a bony finger to the top of his chin, and then said:

“Perhaps you would need to request His Majesty first, Miss Starkov.” The mere thought of that annoyed me. I didn’t want to owe that man a thing.

When I walked the dark corridors, I realised that I had missed dinner.

The Grand Palace library.. surely I would find a way in.

An idea occurred to me then. It would take some time, but I would make it work. I would be a little patient.

Time passed by and my classes went swimmingly. Baghra wasn’t pleased with my earlier stunt with Botkin-“What do you think you’re here to do? Swing your fist at the Fold?” but lessons continued anyway. She had me focus light-light without heat on larger and larger areas. This may have confused a few Grisha when they saw sunlight flood through a single piece of land despite heavy rain.

She wasn’t thrilled that I hadn’t found the books either. Apparently, I had ‘eyes, hands and legs’ and that I should be able to manage to find a few measly books.

Sparring with Botkin was truly wonderful. I admired him for his skills and knowledge. He would tell me more about fighting styles and what would I could use best. We also sparred with wooden swords now, which increased my affection for him greatly.

I made different acquaintances across the tables of the main hall. Genya told me that I garnered a decent amount of respect, despite new rumours that I was secretly a Fjerdan mercenary.

I never saw the Darkling at day and I had a strong feeling that he was avoiding me in my dreams as well. Maybe he had learned to control the pull. I wasn’t sure.

I continued writing to Mal. No responses came, but I wasn’t giving up. He would reply when he had the time. Or the heart.

As Genya braided strands of gold into my hair one morning, I informed her of my plan to reach the Grand Palace. I didn’t tell her the reason or any specifics.

“And how exactly will you get in?” She asked.

“Last time I met a certain someone, she said that her court was open to me.” Genya looked alarmed.

“Alina, maybe you shouldn’t-“

“No, I think I will.” My grin seemed to worry her more.

“Why don’t you ask the Darkling? Whatever it is you need, surely he can help,” she then said.

“I don’t need him for every little thing. Besides, is he even here?”

“He returned yesterday.”

I wasn’t going to talk to him, let alone ask him a favour and reveal the book list to him. He didn’t bother to see me even once. I would handle it myself.

“Well, apparently I can’t stop you.” Her expression turned grim. “Just be careful. She might seem vapid but she can be cunning when she wants to.” Genya then turned to leave.

“And Alina?”

“Yes?”

“Do tell him that you’re going to see the Queen. The consequences will be severe if you don’t.”

The doors closed and I contemplated in silence. I realised it then. Genya was my friend but as soon as she saw him, she would tell him.

Genya was my friend. But I couldn’t trust her.

Too late. She knew and if she knew, he would know too.

If I asked him myself, he would want to know what I was searching for. I couldn’t have that happen. And consequences? I would deal with them later.

I spent the early parts of the morning in the library with my instructor. He left me to my own devices soon enough, and I swiftly exited the library to start making my move.

The funny part of the plan was that Genya probably thought that I couldn’t reach the Grand Palace without being noticed by guards. At times like this the black kefta was a clear disadvantage.

What she didn’t know was that I had a way to make myself invisible.

This wasn’t perfect by any means but paired with an ability to fast travel, I would be able to reach the Grand Palace without any eyes falling upon me.

The heavily ornate halls were decked with liveried servants in white and gold. I didn’t know if I could make it into the throne room (the Queen’s sitting room was connected to it) but I figured that her court would be a separate part of the palace that could be reached without it. I caught the sight of a few women in flowing silk and decided to follow them.

It had turned out that finding the Queen wasn’t much of a task after all. All I had needed to do was follow the scent of perfume and the sound of vapid conversation.

How these women managed to not see me was a wonder in itself. I couldn’t use refraction in the shaded corridors and I wasn’t doing much to conceal myself either. They walked and gossiped and I followed silently, stalking their shadows.

They opened the bejewelled doors to a room and curtsied right before they entered. This could be it. I walked up to the room as bravely as I could.

Thankfully, I was right. The Queen lounged on her diwan, flocked by the ladies of her court and again, there was something very deliberate about her beauty. She looked like a beautiful sculpture that the sculptor had put far too much effort into making. Her blonde hair was in perfect ringlets that rested atop her head and her silver gown shimmered as she adjusted it.

When she saw me, I stepped into the room and bowed. Her ladies wore amused looks on their faces. The Queen looked somewhat surprised and then impressed that I had found her.

“Dear girl! Please, please come in,” She beckoned. I approached her and she gestured for me to sit on the cushions that
surrounded her.

“Your majesty, Moya Tsaritsa, please forgive my impudence. I merely wished to visit you,” I almost cooed. Would this work?

She looked pleased with me and then herself. Mostly herself. Her hand reached my hair, tucking a lock of it behind my ear.

“Of course, my dear. My court does not discriminate against ordinary folk, no,” she turned to her ladies who nodded gracefully. “But then again, I know that you aren’t ordinary either.” Her eyes glinted. “Please demonstrate your ability. I’m sure my ladies would be thrilled to see it.”

The thing about demonstrating my abilities was that the people who asked me to do it weren’t quite aware that my ‘abilities’ could also take their heads off in a second or blind them permanently. They wanted golden ribbons of light instead.

I brought my palms together gently and called for the light. It bounced into the room and reflected off of the jewels on the walls, then the chandelier. Her ladies gasped and the Queen looked on, a curious smile on her lips.

“Marvellous, dear,” she nearly sang. I gave her the most lady-like smile I could imagine and lowered my head in mock humility. She was a Queen. She should be ruling her people, not lounging on divans idly.

“I assume you are training hard.” She then squinted at me, probably searching for traces of Genya’s work. “You look a little tired, child.” I showed her the hands that I refused to let Genya fix.

“For the sake of the country, Moya Tsaritsa, I will not rest until I complete my duty.”

How long would I have to do this until I could slip into the library?

“You’re a brave girl, aren’t you? You’re honest and innocent enough to visit me unannounced-just because you just wanted to see me.” She laughed-an an annoying tinkling sound. “I admire that..yes..” She then looked at her several rings in a moment of contemplation. “Perhaps, after you complete what is asked of you.. I would have you join my court.” Her ladies murmured and I couldn’t tell what they were saying even though they were sitting right next to me.

“Oh dears, you couldn’t possibly mean that, no.. I’m sure our Sun Summoner will be able to finish her destined work.” A sharp glint reflected in her eyes and I remembered Genya’s words.

“With His Majesty’s and your grace, Moya Tsaritsa, I will.”

That had been the right thing to say.

The Queen chattered on about humility and other attributes she had no personal experience with. I smiled, nodded, answered with a vaguely generalised statement that most people would agree with, had everyone agree with me and repeated the process. She then exchanged glances with her ladies and decided to part me with some information.

“You must be wondering why I have a certain glow to me”, she said. I gave her a good look. There was no glow.

“Moya Tsaritsa, your radiance is always constant in my eyes.”
She laughed and fanned herself gently.
I was getting good at this.

“How sweet of you to say..Well, do keep it to yourself, dear, but the secret is that my younger son will come home in a few days.”

As much as I disliked her, now she just looked like a mother who longed for her son. I blinked and my dislike returned immediately. She looked like a mother, yes, but not like a peasant mother that longed for her son-one she would lose to conscription, senseless conflict or famine.

Her son was returning. The younger one. Sobachka or puppy, they called him. He was no hero but I supposed that there would be some significance to his arrival regardless. Royalty were good at overselling themselves.

“I am happy to hear of it, Moya Tsaritsa. My lips will remain sealed on the matter.”

“In my happiness, I wish to give you something.” A gift?

I managed to leave the room a few minutes later. My fingers went to the thin necklace the Queen had gifted me. It was a simple chain with a silver dove pendant. Her choice surprised me; perhaps it was simple to maintain my sense ‘humility’. I had a feeling that the dove somehow represented her.

This library wasn’t too hard to find. I paced towards the doors discreetly.

The idea behind visiting the Queen instead of sneaking into the library directly was that if I were spotted, I would have a reason to be in the building. The consequences wouldn’t be as bad.

If the library at the Little Palace was grand, this one was a worse offender. I immediately recognised the flaw in my plan. I wouldn’t have nearly enough time to find what I was looking for.

A good place to start was the restricted section. All the fun libraries had one. I took a few turns in, trying to navigate the expansive maze of books. A dusty door stood in the shadowed corner of the hall. Unlocked. A storeroom, perhaps?

I would have a look in, then.

The room was a bit shabby, which was a good sign because it meant that servants weren’t allowed often. It was filled with teak bookshelves forming neat rows. The room itself had a single-window; a grate through which light streamed gently. I stepped in between two rows and started my search.

A few minutes in, a single book’s purple spine caught my attention.

“Found you,” I said to it.

“Have you now?”

I raised my hands, ready to call the light. A man stepped into my line of sight-a servant.
The only thing was that he didn’t talk like one.

We said nothing.

“Read much?”

“Every now and then.” I studied his eyes. His face was quite handsome and he stood out, even in a uniform.

“And you’re here for..”

“Some light reading, really.” I considered knocking him out and making a run for it.

He smiled with sarcasm and it looked good on him.

“Well, you don’t need to introduce yourself, do you? Black kefta and the fact that you’re not the Darkling is good enough for me to know that you’re none other than Alina Starkov, our Sun Summoner.”

He got me there.

“Nobody ever told you that you usually don’t talk in libraries?” The light was so close, I wouldn’t have to call it at all. It already fell on his cornsilk hair, setting a thin halo around his head.

“Nobody ever told me any of the rules-and if they did, I didn’t bother enough to listen.” He flashed a smile and he looked like a heroic prince.

This was starting to get awkward. I had to make my getaway but this ambiguous man stood in front of me. I wasn’t sure what to do. Then the strangest thought occurred to me, and I said:

“I’m searching for books and you’re in the way, stranger. Either help or leave.”

This was ridiculous. I was ridiculous. Everything about this was just ridiculous.

Surprisingly, he answered with:

“Alright, tell me what you’re looking for.”

Four eyes searched faster than two. Soon enough, we had found four out of five books.
I marvelled at the odds. Why were they even here?

“You’ll be happy enough with this, I assume.” The stranger’s hazel eyes twinkled.

“For now,” I said. I didn’t know what Baghra would call a four out of five but it would probably be something foul.

The same conundrum struck again now. We were done. What would I do with this man now?

“You don’t have to kill me, you know.” He read my thoughts smoothly. I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Clearly you’re no servant.”

“Everyone’s someone’s servant.”

“And you won’t tell me who you are either.”

“Nope.”

“I could force it out of you.”

“Bad idea.”

“Alright,” I said. This was a weird stalemate. I wanted to know more, but my instincts told me that this man wouldn’t be a problem for me. If anything, he would be a problem for the Grand Palace. I placed the books into my rucksack. “I’ll return these when I’m done.”

“You do that, then.” I left the room and he didn’t follow.

The afternoon sun was good enough to show itself and I managed my way out of the library just fine. Beyond that, I didn’t have to hide. I had come here to visit the Queen. Simple as that. My thoughts returned to the strange man from earlier. There wasn’t anything sinister about his presence; he was probably a prat from some noble house, sneaking around in servant’s clothes for the fun of it.

I wondered if Genya was here. She probably was. Snippets from our morning conversation came to mind.
That bastard would be here too. If I could find him, I could finish things in a minute.

But I wouldn’t. Not now. I headed towards the Little Palace, fists clenched.

The first thing I did was hide the books inside the cupboard in my room. I would have a look at them at night. Lunch had already passed. I would have to spar with Botkin on an empty stomach.

I joined Marie and Nadia, both headed towards the stables. Marie seemed to have a lot to say about some girl she didn’t like.

“She’s incredibly annoying but she’s incredibly powerful so..so that annoys me even more,” she huffed.

“She’s incredibly beautiful too,” Nadia added.

Well. She sounded incredible for sure.

“It’s just that she’s so snobbish, I hate it!”

I drowned out the rest of the conversation-I was more concerned about what Botkin might say if he knew I would be fighting him on an empty stomach. His instincts really were that good.

The training room buzzed with excitement. My appearance was no longer a spectacle, though. Most people had accepted me as an ambiguous outlier of sorts. All the faces were familiar to me now because I made it a point to sit with everyone, one table at a time.

I joined the crowd of Grisha and Ada found me soon enough.

“Everyone’s excited,” she observed. She looked excited too.

“Clearly. About what?”

“Oh, you’ll see. They think Botkin will make you fight her.”

Her?

Botkin ran with us on our routine endurance training. My hunger had me eyeing some of the trees we passed. If I could grab some kind of fruit, that would be an improvement.

No fruit. I was going to continue starving.

I sat on the ground to stretch as soon as we returned. I then connected what Marie and Ada had said earlier when a raven-haired Squaller sauntered into the room and greeted Botkin. They looked quite happy to see each other and started chattering away in Shu.

I recognised this person. She had been on the skiff that day.

I suddenly thought of Mal and his silence. Considering where she had been stationed, she could know something about his whereabouts.

Botkin called me over as the others settled into sparring practice. The girl gave me a polite smile, one that didn’t reach her stunning blue eyes.

“Sun girl, meet Star Pupil.”

“It’s an honour to meet the Sun Summoner at last,” she said as she pulled me into a hug, but didn’t let me go before whispering “You’re too filthy to wear his colour, orphan.”

Honestly, I wasn’t sure why this girl didn’t like me. I didn’t like being hated by beautiful girls. But there were clear advantages to being hated by a strong one.

Good fights.

Ada’s prediction came true. Botkin paired us up and stood outside the ring to observe. This was a fight worthy of being observed, apparently, because the other Grisha thought the same.

I took a deep breath. I would have to finish this quickly.

The girl moved like a swift dancer, punch after punch trying to reach me in different paths. I blocked one after another, my arms feeling the weight of her blows. She tired for a second and I feinted a punch to her face and landed a swift kick to her exposed abdomen when she closed her eyes at that moment. She fell and a furious look on her face blossomed. This one I liked more than her smile.

The real fight started here. She barely gave me space for an offensive charge, constantly attacking with punches in different paths. I realised what she was doing then; she was pushing me to the limits of the ring.

My stomach growled with hunger. This would have to end now. She landed a perfect blow to my abdomen and I winced in pain. Things wouldn’t go well for me if I prolonged this fight. When she pushed forward for a final punch, I sidestepped her and swept her front leg. She lost her balance and fell on her back with a thud.

The crowd cheered for some reason. Either this girl was that strong, or that hated. Botkin looked cheerful; probably because I hadn’t tried to kill her. I walked towards him for his feedback.

The girl had other ideas, though. She clapped her hands and pushed a strong gust of wind towards my back.

All bets were off then. I turned, flashed instinctively out of range and to her side to land another kick into her abdomen, gasps rippling in the crowd as I did it. She yelped and fell back- and I considered giving her another before Botkin’s voice stopped me.

I sighed. There went my peaceful streak.

“No using powers inside!”, he roared at the two of us.

I then said the most mature words known to mankind.

“She started it.”

News of my fight with the girl, who I learned was named Zoya, reached the domed hall before I did. I sat with the Corporalki-who were thrilled that I had done such a thing.

“You didn’t have to kick her, you know,” murmured Ellyott. Sergei seemed to disagree.

“After what she tried to pull, she definitely had it coming.”

A good point from both of them. But Ellyott was right. Kicking someone who was on the ground wasn’t the most honourable move.
But then again-

“You’ll never see honour on a real battlefield,” I said to both of them.

As soon as dinner ended, the Darkling’s doors opened-which I had been expecting and dreading at the same time. Ivan barely had to step out-I had reached him already.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Chapter Text

Ivan was tempted to sneer but didn’t. He took my arm and we walked in.

The trepidation numbed me. I knew this would be trouble. And I had wanted it anyway.

When I entered the War Room, I was alone with him. Ivan had barely closed the doors from the outside before it started.

“So,” said a cold voice. “Someone has been adventuring in the Grand Palace.” The Darkling stalked towards me, anger radiating in waves around him.

I quickly consulted the plan I had run through in my head when I had started my way into the Grand Palace.

‘Deal with consequences later’, it had said.

I cursed the girl who made that plan.

“When the Sun Summoner meets the Queen for no apparent reason, it represents something, Alina.” My shadowed man loomed over me like a storm over a small field. I could feel his energy, a dark mass, aching to spill over. I wanted to speak but the words wouldn’t come out. I felt possessed by a brief urge-to either fight or run away. A shadow of a third urge lurked underneath the two.

If we fought, wouldn’t it be glorious?

“And when the Sun Summoner that wears my colour is seen sweet-talking the Queen while drinking her tea,” he leaned in and I could feel his breath on my earlobe. “It represents something, Alina.”

His fingers raised the pendant on my chain.

“And she has given you a gift...how..touching.” A chill rushed through my spine and I held my breath in a futile attempt to slow my heart.

“Perhaps I should give you one as well.” His cold lips brushed against my neck and a small gasp left mine. I struggled against the sheer gravity of his presence. I wanted to give in, I wanted to beg for his forgiveness. I also wanted to fight him, to defy him.

Doors right behind me, yet no escape.

In my confusion, he continued to place harsh kisses on my neck. I closed my eyes at the sound of my own gasps. Whatever this was, I needed more of it.

No, I didn’t. Yes, I did.

My hands found the strength to reach his shoulders but betrayed me when they wrapped around his neck instead.

“Become obedient now, have we?” I could feel him smirk into my skin. My anger led my right hand to dig into the back of his neck with my nails.

I could give gifts too.

He had made it to the base of my jaw. I felt a trickle of his blood on my nails. He wasn’t deterred, not in the slightest.

He then stopped and my arms released him. I opened my eyes again, breathless.

“If only you could see the way you look now,” he said silkily. My fingers went to my neck and noticed that something was missing.

“You wear what I give you.” He dangled the necklace in his hand and pocketed it.

I wanted to fire a good comeback but I couldn’t. Instead, I felt like my body had been set ablaze by an ocean. Confused. Heated.
I looked back at him, half angry, half helpless. I then turned away. I didn’t want him to notice.

“Look at me,” he ordered. I couldn’t. It was unbearable. His fingers seized the tip of my chin and forced it in his direction.

“Alina.” I met his stormy gaze.

“There is no one like us. This connection..it is unheard of.” His voice was dark and delicate.

“Please.” The word sounded foreign on his lips.

“Please..Do not defy me again.”

I couldn’t sleep. I feared running into him in my dreams. I sunk my face into my pillow and kicked the mattress in frustration. I didn’t want to think. The weight of my memories of him would crush any willpower I had to stay afloat.

My shadowed man. My painting. His lips on my neck.

'Please..Do not defy me again.'

I would defy him a thousand times, then. I would give him no choice but to raise his darkness against me. In a fight, I was sure that I could win.

In desire, I wasn’t as sure.

I opened the cupboard to remove the books I had ‘borrowed’. If sleep wasn’t an option, I would find another way to utilise my time. Or distract myself. Definitely the former.

I started with balance theory. This book weighed small science against magic from a few observational standpoints. If small science was the manifestation of that which already existed in nature, magic was its opposite. It had a cost. All of it was forbidden; it was believed to be a perversion that disrupted the balance of the world.

I thought about how I used my powers. What I felt when I called them. I made use of sunlight-that which exists naturally. However, in order to become a medium for the transition; to manipulate matter and manifest it, an unseen force from within governed the process. Did I call the sun? Or did I call for everything to turn into the sun? I would have to rethink that. This force sounded important.

Another book explained Amplifiers in a similar context. They were said to have more of this unseen force than others, which allowed them to draw more out of a Grisha than they themselves could.

I tried to process this information as I paced around. The parts about magic, merzost, would have to wait for later.

Dread took over when Genya knocked on the door hours later. My fingers moved to the bruises on my neck and a dull ache registered when they applied pressure.

Too late. Plus, she would have to help fix it. I covered my neck with my hair anyway and opened the door.

“Didn’t sleep?” That was the first thing she asked as she entered the room.

“No.” I paced into the bath alone. Genya followed and leaned against the shelled wall as I attempted to sink into the bathtub.

“Drowning yourself won’t help.”

“Help with what?”

She grinned wickedly.

“Those bruises on your neck.”

We spent the next half hour talking about the Queen, the weather, everything but the elephant in the room. I sat in front of the mirror in my robe and I saw her beautiful smirk in it when she took my hair in her hands.

“Shut up.”

“Alright.”

Her smirk continued to widen.

“I said shut up.”

“Expressions don’t equal words, Alina.”

I sighed as she worked on the bruises.

She wouldn’t let me live this down.

Training with Baghra had gotten a lot tougher now. She said nothing when I explained what I had learned; almost as though she was expecting me to reach some grand conclusion on my own. As for my abilities, she was never satisfied. She was training me to summon a column of light and stretch it into a wall. Around the entirety of the Little Palace. Easier barked than done.

She also made me show her all my abilities and told me to work more on ‘the cut’-my curved blade of light.

It was beyond exhausting.

I couldn’t keep up with Botkin after that. He didn’t want to push me either; my training sessions with Baghra were quite public to anyone who had eyes and existed somewhere on the grounds. He knew what I was doing.

“Sun girl needs rest,” he said. I scowled at him because he was right. Taking a nap in the training room seemed downright disrespectful so I searched the grounds for a decent tree to sleep underneath instead.

The grass tickled my neck and I laid there in half exhaustion, half contemplation. My fingers raked into the ground and I thought about Mal.

Mal and I were never complicated. We were natural and when we were young, we had been inseparable. Then I had made it complicated and now, I felt like I had lost him already. Maybe I’d lost him the day I ran away. Or when he saw what I could do.

Some things can’t be fixed and even if they could, I had to restrain myself with the truth that Mal, my Mal, deserved better.

When I awoke, darkness ruled the sky. I groaned out loud. Flashing at night cost a lot more energy and I had no energy to spend. It was too late for dinner. I would have to start carrying food around at this rate.

I considered sleeping more but dragged myself across the grounds against my own wishes. The air was crisp and I appreciated its stillness. Lamplights guided the path to the Little Palace and I savoured the sound of my boots against the rustling gravel. I loved the darkness that engulfed all things big and small. It didn’t care about who you were.

“You look exhausted, Alina.” I jumped at the sound of the Darkling's voice. How had I not noticed?

“If you saw the light shows I’ve been putting up, you’d understand why.” My voice was hard. I would give him nothing. I heard his footsteps accompany mine but refused to look at him.

“I have.” I paused at that very briefly before continuing to walk. “Your power is truly exceptional..in fact, I doubt that any of my soldiers would hold up against you.” Admitting that flat out..what was he thinking? I felt weakened by the revelation.

“Is that why you haven’t paired me up with another Grisha? Afraid I’ll slice their heads off?” I recalled that he had seen my fight against the Drüskelle back then. The coldness of the air filled my lungs and I wanted to keep it there.

“Baghra’s training takes priority. Your purpose is more than being a fighter.”

“And as a fighter, Botkin claims that he has never met a Grisha like you,” he added.

“If he had, he would have died.” I sounded even weaker now. I was a speck of dust inside his hand. I could barely hold up against the pressure his energy created.

He laughed-and I hated how much I loved the sound.

I walked faster but stopped when he called my name.

“Alina.”

My heart twisted. I wanted to run but my legs didn’t listen.

“Alina.” I could see the dark embroidery on his kefta’s lapel, now illuminated by the lamplight. Dark and intricate, much like the man that wore it.

With whatever energy I had left, I fixed a glare on his porcelain perfection. My painting’s beauty was surreal. But this man wasn’t just my painting. He was an enigma. He was powerful. He was too many things. He wouldn't show himself, let alone give me himself. I wondered what I would do if he did.

His now-onyx eyes glittered.

“What?”

“I see you've erased the gift that I had given you.” A feverish chill seized my body. Desire would snake its way in soon and I didn’t want to be here when it happened.

“It wasn’t that great a gift,” I bit back. I wouldn’t show him my feelings. I couldn’t give him anything. He would take it all if I did. “And what did you do with the one I gave you?”

His lips curved. “Perhaps you should check for yourself.”

I stood on the precipice of surrender. In a single moment, I wondered if this were a crossroads and if the path I chose would change everything. I was weak. I was tired. I walked past him but his hand grabbed mine, and I flew into his arms like a rag doll.

I had fallen by then. His lips returned to my neck and my fingers found the cuts I had given him. He had kept them after all. The kisses were much slower this time; he took the time to suck on my skin just until his work elicited a weak moan. His face then hovered over mine, his eyes fixed on my lips. He looked so impossibly gentle then. I wanted to memorise him and read his expressions out loud. I wanted to curl into him like his shadows.

That was when I knew. This was the pull, same as the one that dragged his reality into my dreams. The ache in my heart became a piercing stab and I staggered back. His arms held me in place.

“Alina?” He sounded concerned.

I placed my hand on his chest and pushed as hard as I could. His arms dropped and I started walking but not before I said:

“Please..please don’t follow.”

I walked and this time, I heard no footsteps accompany me.

Chapter Text

“Too much heartache to focus, girl?” Baghra snapped at me. I kept burning up the ground accidentally, unable to split light from heat anymore. I placed my hands on my knees to give myself a break.

The very literal ache in my heart had become worse in the past few days. Baghra was not happy-a monumental surprise, really, about this new development.

The broken bones and bruises I could work with. This, I had no answer for. Baghra seemed to think that the ‘unseen force’ that I had read about might be placing pressure on my heart. She also thought that my ‘infatuation’ with the Darkling didn’t help. How she had known was beyond me, and I was happy that we were alone when she said choice words like:

“The Fold doesn’t need a romance, it needs the Sun Summoner to be able to destroy it!”

“You don’t have time to act like a little girl! There can be no rest until Ravka is saved.”

She also managed to tell me that it was quite unoriginal of me to like the Darkling, as most women did. All low blows, but much needed to restructure my ego.

How much would I let slip before being taken off the board completely? He wasn’t my enemy-I wasn’t sure what he was. I remembered how much I had..how much I had needed him back then and closed my eyes when I thought of the pull I felt when I was near him. Whatever he was, whatever we were, I couldn’t be an infatuated maiden with him. I had to stand as an equal, all while still daring to explore us. I slammed a whip of light into the ground and light washed off of the impact like a wave, flowing outwards.

This was new territory. Baghra was guiding me to create forms with my light. A slicing pain ran through my hand and I dropped the whip, shattering the light completely.

Blood.

The problem was that solidifying light took it to resemble the cut. Holding the cut took a great amount of concentration because the line between solid light and solid light that could slice you in two was incredibly thin. It meant that the cut would have to stay harmless in my hand and turn deadly the moment it left it.

Can't do that with a whip that you're holding.

“Infirmary!” she cried in exasperation and swiftly retreated to her hut. I tied my palm with a rag cloth to the best of my abilities. Tying one hand while using the other wasn’t easy.

I flashed halfway and dragged myself through the other half. A crowd of Summoners bore witness to my walk of shame-they probably thought I just got injured often.

“Saints Alina, your hand,” Ada swore.

“Yes, lovely colour, I know,” I said with teeth clenched. Blood dripped onto the cropped grass and I continued my walk to the infirmary.

Sergei patched up the wound and tied some gauze cloth around hurriedly. He half threatened me to stay longer, which I realised most healers did, and I ignored him anyway.

Part of me considered hiding in my room for a bit. If the Darkling knew that his precious sunshine investment injured herself again, he wouldn’t be thrilled. I briefly imagined his reaction. The same feverish heat filled me from head to toe. I didn’t think of him. I had never needed to. In the space where I had no thoughts, he was the darkness that filled it. He had always been there and the encounter in his War Room forced me to realise that there was no cure for something like this. I was being drawn in, forced to answer to the strange thing, the visions that dragged me into his consciousness. The same thing demanded my surrender to him.

And what if I did surrender? What would become of Alina Starkov then?

I wasn't going to find out.

The domed hall housed enough cushions and divans for me to lounge in one of its lonely corners. I leaned against the wall and thought of the man that was probably behind it.

I then thought of Mal; more man than boy now, more bitter than sweet. I got up to my feet with a goal. I wanted to see Genya and ask her about my letters.

As I walked onto the perfectly laid path to the Grand Palace, a voice caught my attention.

“A bit early for a stroll, isn’t it?”

The servant from earlier emerged from a manicured hedge.

“A bit early to pretend you’re a garden plant, isn’t it?” I fired back.

“There’s never an appropriate time for things like that,” he mused.

This man was delightfully weird and if he weren’t so suspicious, I’d probably like him for it.

“Something moves you more than the gentle breeze, Alina Starkov. What brings you here?”

“To your plant?”

“To the Grand Palace, silly.”

I bristled at that. Silly? Every bone in my body told me that this man was a loose end that I should silence immediately. And yet, I found his mannerisms somewhat interesting. Who was he?

“Who are you?”

“A simple man behind a simple plant, my lady.”

“I’m thinking I should throw you into the rows of servants in the entryway and see what happens,” I said coolly.

“They’d definitely break my fall and catch me, bless their souls.” I glared at him.

“So, what brings you here? Wicked wound, by the way.” He grinned. I sighed.

“I’m here to check on some letters I’ve been sending.” He raised his brow slightly.

“Love letters?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, boy.”

“Let us walk,” he said, and we set off towards the palace.

“Letters to a friend?”

“Yes.”

“A friend you love?”

“You keep coming back to that.” I gritted my teeth.

“There are several types of love in the world,” he said, opening a soliloquy that no one asked for. I gave him a sharp glare.

“I could help you with those letters, you know.” I stopped. This was ludicrous. I pointed a finger at him and he seemed affronted by the action.

“You were in a bush just five minutes ago, doing no one knows what. You want me to accept your help?”

“I could have been gardening, you know.” He winked at me. I wanted to whack him on the head.

“You seem just the type,” I snapped back.

“Trust me.” His face promised seriousness. “Give me your letter and I will make sure it reaches your friend.”

“Find him first,” I croaked, and then cleared my throat. “Find him first. If you can tell me where he is, I’ll give you the letter.” I gave him Mal’s name and his division number.

His eyes twinkled. He then gave me a curt bow.

“You have my word, Alina Starkov.”

I never completed my journey to the Grand Palace. Instead, I had the stranger escort me back to the Little Palace. He refused to come in further and I respected his odd decision. Everything about him was odd. As I looked over the grounds, I noticed that the Grisha stirred about more than usual. I asked Marie about it during lunch.

“Prince Nikolai Lantsov is returning from no one knows where, but we might have to receive him.” So much for a secret. The Queen was so melodramatic.

“All of us?” I asked. That seemed a bit much for a younger prince.

“Not really, but the King wants Grisha representing the three orders. Or the Queen. I’m not sure who’s doing the wanting here.” She stabbed a sweet potato and I copied her.

“I’d probably have to go,” I realised out loud.

“Of course,” she snorted. “There’s only one of you, Alina.”

“And thank saints for that.” Her eyes widened but she laughed anyway.

“You know, I wanted to thank you for showing up Zoya like that back then.” Guilt pricked my skin. I didn’t really dislike Zoya. She was beautiful and strong-most people hated women that were like that.

She also told me that I was too filthy to wear the Darkling’s colour, so she wasn’t exactly helping her case either.

The point was that she was too easy to hate, and I just wasn’t interested.

The day went on as usual until a young Grisha informed me that Baghra wanted to see me after dinner.

Before I opened the door to her hut, I heard muffled voices inside. An argument? I slipped in to see the Darkling and Baghra in the middle of a heated discussion.

“Good that you’re here, girl,” she said gruffly. “You’ll be training with me at night here onwards.”

Night? Perhaps this would increase the difficulty for me.

“Alright, then.” I trained my focus on Baghra, trying to ignore my shadowed man standing right next to her.

“You know what she’s capable of,” She then snapped at the Darkling, who bristled at her tone. “She will destroy the Fold in two years if she continues at the same pace.”

I froze. Two years. Two years? West Ravka could starve in two years. All the Grisha there could disappear in two years. We didn’t have two years.

“Two years is too long, Baghra. I’m getting her an amplifier.”

“So you think she can’t do it? You think she needs one of your amplifiers?”

The atmosphere was beyond tense. I could feel the darkness in the room shift towards the Darkling’s anger.

The same anger filled me in a second. Baghra thought I had to train two years longer. The Darkling thought that I should get an amplifier. Both of them thought that I wasn’t strong enough.

I wasn’t strong enough.

Something about the swirl of darkness in the room nauseated me. I placed my hand on my chest-the pain had started.

Something within me snapped just then.

The animal rage started to build in my bones again. I said nothing as I stormed out of the hut.

I felt dangerous. I felt volatile. I paced away and the Darkling followed, as quiet as the night itself. The moon was full tonight and gleamed in the empty sky, daring me to call for it. Baghra walked out, stick in hand.

“I wasn’t done, boy!” she growled. He felt enraged and I felt even more nauseated, all emotion swirling, telling me, threatening me of the storm that awaited me. There was too much energy here. The air turned static, threatening to burn us all.

They thought I wasn’t strong enough. They were trying to make decisions for me.

I wasn’t strong enough?

Wasn’t I?

I clapped my hands and the pain from earlier drowned my body entirely. I called the sun, and it made its way through the moon to me. The pain in my chest rose again, but I didn’t care.

I would show them.

Moonlight clouded over my head like smoke. I waved my hand, willing every inch of energy I had into it. The smoke hardened and took shape.

A giant crescent moon had formed far above my head. Only thing was that it wasn’t an imitation.

It was the cut.

Baghra’s expression was grim. My shadowed man looked..awed. And then alarmed.

“Alina,” he said carefully.

I wasn’t done yet. I wasn’t going to gather this much power just to leave it hanging over my head. I was pure energy, a manifestation of rage and pain.

I was going to cut something. The Little Palace almost blinked in response; illuminated by specks of light. Perhaps I would test its strength.

My heart was in my throat now and I nearly collapsed in pain. I stretched my arms and the cut widened.

“Alina.” The pain had reached its pinnacle. If I fell, would the cut fall on us?

“Let it go.” I met his silver eyes. 

Why did he look so beautiful in the moonlight?

His hands found my shoulders.

How unfair it was.

My focus broke and the cut shattered into a million shards of moonlight, disintegrating over us.

He made me feel turbulent-storm and calm at the same time.

The last thing I remembered was the strength of his arms.

This was the stunt that truly cost me. I could barely recall doing any of it; only the cut hovering above and the searing pain that wouldn’t let me faint in peace.

If I was dangerous before, I was unstable now.

I awoke in one of his chambers. Genya was with me and the first sinking feeling came through like a bolt of lightning. She was watching me. They were watching me now.

The implications weighed on my throat like a pair of hands.

A few Grisha had witnessed my ‘spectacle’; they thought I had created a second moon like I was some primordial goddess.

The truth was a little more dangerous than that. I ate in silence.

Genya could tell that I was in a bad mood. She could also tell that the Darkling was responsible for it. Her alabaster fingers trailed over my left hand and I relaxed, and then bristled at myself for relaxing.

This one had too many abilities.

“The ceremony is tomorrow,” she reminded me.

The ‘ceremony’ in question was one where the second Prince returned. Why I had to be there to receive him was a real mystery on my part, but I imagined that the court wanted an excuse to show me off.

I would have nothing else to think of. I had been confined to the Darkling’s quarters now-the lone exception of which was that I could eat in the domed hall. My training had been suspended and Baghra had refused to see me. I wasn’t well enough, apparently.

The Darkling had the sense to leave me alone. I would hear him pacing through the corridor with his men every now and then. My heart danced at the thought of him opening the door to my room.

It was good that he wasn’t here. I was torn between cold cordiality and wanting to sink into his arms-and I was afraid that he’d make the choice for me.

I stared at the painted ceiling and traced my fingers over the details from the bed. It didn’t bother me that Baghra didn’t think I was ready yet-she had made an estimation with her years of knowledge and experience.

It bothered me that he thought the same, despite all logic. Or that he believed that I couldn’t get stronger without an amplifier.

Baghra still trusted my abilities. He didn’t.

He wanted to control me. I wanted to best him. He also wanted me, and I wanted to not want him. There was also the matter of wanting to destroy the Fold and save Ravka. The contrast between my idle morning and the weight of responsibility on my shoulders was staggering. I felt like a stranger everywhere. I felt burdened with a purpose that was too great for me.

I pushed my bowl away and leaned into Genya’s shoulder, surprising her. She wrapped an arm around me in silence.

Too much for the heart to handle. Or at least my weak, wretched one.

When the Darkling swept into the domed hall with his guard, I knew he’d come to me. We would have to enter last. Together. I didn’t like it.

People were excited to see what had become of the now returning prince. The people loved him dearly. It wasn’t a terribly serious occasion on our end; there was almost no tension in the air. A handful of select Grisha from each order stood in single file and I noticed that the Darkling’s favourites were all present, which included Zoya, all beauty and haughtiness rolled into one.

The Darkling knew better than to talk to me but when his arm circled mine, I felt balanced. I looked up at his pale facade and he met me out of the corner of his eye, testing the waters. I looked away and no aching ensued this time.

The journey to the Grand Palace was a silent one. We would witness the ceremony only when we saw a horde of uniformed guards lining the entrance of the Palace. The Palace glittered even more than usual and even as the Sun Summoner, I had to avert my eyes from all the light it reflected.

The Throne room was just as bad. Golden curtains with pale blue borders and the King’s double eagle banners lined the room. The ceiling held blue and white ribbons that snaked around the chandeliers. I lowered my eyes and let the Darkling’s arm guide me.

I saw the Apparat on the dias and instinctively wanted to throttle him. He looked too slippery and dangerous, even on a day where he didn’t have to be. But then again, he might think to be slippery and dangerous every day. He gave me an almost imperceptible bow when he saw me.

The King looked bored-which I assumed was standard procedure but his wife glowed with pride. She was probably partial to this son of hers.

Prince Vasily bore a striking resemblance to his father-in appearance and manner. He looked terribly bored. His watery eyes moved across the room and then fell on me. Perhaps he hadn’t seen me before.

The Grisha flanked the left and right of the carpet in single file. I stood with the Darkling, closest to the dias, still arm in arm. The stiffness between us was unbearable.

In a moment of idiocy and boldness, I decided to whisper something to him.

“If I fall asleep while standing, it’s your responsibility to get me back safely.” The corner of his mouth twitched.

“I make no promises,” he whispered back.

I closed my eyes. I wanted to smile but I didn't.

I was awoken with a nudge, followed by blaring trumpets. My feet lost balance but the Darkling pulled my arm into his side.

“I did try to warn you,” he said. I looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

The second prince walked in, followed by more soldiers. He was incredibly handsome, quite unlike his brother, and was dressed in white military attire with a strong sword at his waist.

He approached the dias and I froze.

Cornsilk hair.

Hazel eyes.

All too familiar.

He kneeled and exchanged words with his father, but I didn’t hear a single one. I recovered from my disarray with a sharp glare when he turned in my direction, grinned, and said:

“And who might you be, young lady?”

Alright. I was going to kill this rat bastard.

Chapter Text

Even with my shadowed man on my arm, I could barely restrain my anger. Actually, I wasn’t entirely convinced that his presence helped-he was literally an amplifier. I turned to the Queen when she decided to introduce me. Again, more words. Probably my name and something about the Sun. I couldn’t be sure.

The Darkling stepped away from me and bowed to Prince Nikolai. “Moi Tsarevich, we are pleased to receive you,” he said and I almost believed the humility of his tone. I quickly realised I had to follow suit, but the prince had taken my hand in his by then. A family trait, clearly.

“I must say, Miss Alina, that if your abilities are as radiant as you are, then Ravka is saved already.” He kissed my hand gently.
The Gentry had the nerve to ‘ooh’ at that.

I blushed. Then I thought about how my swords would look inside his guts. This was humiliation. Prince or not, this man had played me for a fool. For the last time. I smiled, but I imagined I looked diabolical in his eyes. Before he left me, he managed to whisper in my ears-

“I’ve found your man. I’ll meet you soon, sweetling.”

My pulse quickened. It hadn’t been long. He’d found Mal. What did that mean? I would find out the truth soon. I knew he was alive, an unshakeable surety remaining in my gut, but was he alright? Had he gotten my letters?

Had he read them?

As we left the Grand Palace, I could think of nothing else. Unfortunately, my thoughts were interrupted when we reached the Little Palace grounds.

“You know him,” the Darkling stated. I paled slightly. He had been there the entire time; how much had he heard?

“I may have met him once.”

This answer didn’t satisfy him. I saw a glimpse of a dark and dangerous man then. I didn’t know what scared me more; his power or his beauty. He wouldn’t let this go.

Part of me didn’t want him to.

I waited patiently for the Prince/Servant/Local Creep, but there was a good chance that the eccentric was testing my limits.

“He’s just annoying,” I told Genya as she threw an orange into my hands. We would step outside together on occasion. We were still in the Darkling’s quarters. Well, I was. Genya had come to visit. Others had tried, but they weren’t allowed. I got notes from Ada on occasion.

“You still haven’t told me how you know the Prince, you know.” Genya reminded me as we walked towards the entrance of the grounds.

As much as I cared for Genya, I wasn’t going to give her any information that the Darkling could take from her. Her position was one that she couldn’t help and I couldn't risk.

We were on the brink of Winter and the heavy snow which would have shown itself earlier decided to finally set in. These were significantly colder times. The sky was ice blue and the ferns shivered with the occasional wind. But I didn’t care about the cold. I had lived through enough of it to find myself indifferent. The kefta was impossibly light but the weight of responsibility that came with it was the contrast that bothered me. I decided I would go without it for a while. The frost bit right above my ankles and I closed my eyes as I tried to navigate the grounds through memory alone.

I wore a white linen dress with a thin brown coat. My hair was in braids that had been pinned up. I probably looked like a normal girl from a small town. If I looked like this, I could slip into a crowd and disappear. No one would care if I could destroy the Fold or not. I could live in peace. I could have.

But without my abilities, my nature, I wouldn't have left Keramzin. I wouldn't have met different people, seen different places and learned different cultures. Without my nature, my shadowed man would have passed me by without notice. There would be no connection that bound us.

Without my nature, I would have had Mal. We would stuck together through everything. We would have been inseparable.

I would have suffered more than anything. I would have hidden it all for his sake..I would have deserted my destiny.

Abandon your nature and suffer, embrace your nature and suffer.

I couldn't win.

Genya called after me. She wore a fur hat and gloves, grimacing her way through the snow.

"Alina, we have to get back. Now," she said and paused to take a breath. Her cheeks were flushed. I turned back with her hand in mine. We parted ways there; she was needed at the Grand Palace. A dark thought crossed my mind and I stored it away.

I crossed my legs to sit on the War Room's table. A few years ago I could have never imagined that I would be in this room, my presence fully known. I had a purpose here. The fires in the grates filled the room with a warm glow. A map rested in my lap and I traced the lines faintly.

Fjerda, Shu Han, and Ravka with an ugly scar marring its landscape. Fjerda had full access to the Grisha in our port cities. The ones they couldn't reach, certain Ravkans would reach on their behalf.

Faith was a dangerous thing. The people of Novyi Zem believed that Grisha were blessed. The Fjerdans believed the opposite and the Ravkans-they were tired and needed someone to blame. They were Otkazat'sya-the non-Grisha, the orphaned ones. I didn't know if I believed in that particular sentiment. In the end, we all bled the same.

The Darkling entered the room with Ivan. I continued studying the map.

He muttered instructions to Ivan and from the footsteps, I could tell that Ivan had left. From the energy, I could tell that the Darkling had remained.

"Have you eaten?" The mere sound of his voice was warmth to me.

"No."

"Will you eat?"

"I'll eat when I've done something that warrants eating. Like training." My voice came out as resentful.

"You've trained almost every day since you have arrived here, Alina. Some rest won't hurt you."

I looked at him now. I could never tire from studying his perfect face, always impassive, always cold. He was close. Too close. Without thinking, I pushed a stray strand of his hair back into place. He caught the arm that did that with his.

"Will you not eat?" His voice was a gentle attempt at a threat. It still worked.

The pull. I wanted to dive into his arms and stay there forever. I also wanted to stand on my own feet and fight.

Couldn't I have both? Greed engulfed me for a moment. I wanted both.

"Have you eaten?" I asked him. He raised a brow and gently retrieved the map I had been cradling.

"Is this the beginning of a bargain, Alina Starkov?"

"I'll eat if you eat."

"Alright then." His lips curved and a feeling of foreboding washed over me. He probably had an idea.

I had never wanted to punch a man more, and considering the men I've met so far, that was saying something.

We walked into the domed hall together.

If it were big enough a deal that the Darkling had come to dine with his Grisha, it was even bigger a deal that I was right by his side when he walked in.

His table had two chairs now; twin high chairs carved from ebony. I would sit to his left.

The Grisha that normally settled into whichever seats they could find now shuffled into an order of importance in each table. His favourites sat closest to his table. In other words,

Zoya. Ivan. David.

I wasn't sure if David was a man that the Darkling could truly collect, but his genius was apparent to most Grisha. The Materialki table couldn't connect to the Darkling's table the way the other two did-they flanked both sides in a V formation. He seemed a little relieved at that. Zoya wasn’t very happy with my seating arrangement. I remembered that I’d wanted to apologise to her. I heard from Ada that the Darkling hadn't been happy with her attempt to attack me when I had my back turned. Good thing for her, I hadn’t been injured.

I searched the tables for my friends and smiled when I found them.

The hall continued its silence until I realised that they were waiting for the Darkling to take the first bite.

Forget the Sun cult, there was something quite similar going on here that the Apparat should look into.

Things settled and halfway in, he had the nerve to ask-

"Satisfied now?"

I frowned.

"Don't tempt my tongue. I have nothing nice to say," I said and hoped that enough venom had sunk into my voice. I couldn't stop there, though.

"When I said that I would eat if you did, I meant that we could eat-"

"Together? Alone?", he added delicately. I hated the way he'd said it. I hated the way it made me feel.

My cheeks heated. He saw my face and smirked slightly.

"Don't tempt my tongue," he then said. "I have nothing to say but many things to do."

I turned away to hide my blush. I would make him pay for that somehow.

The reason for my detention of sorts was that I couldn't prove that I was entirely stable. There was a more complicated version from the Corporalki but I couldn’t bother with the details. I tried not to worry. My mind was in a state of unrest. I resisted the urge to scream. Another Grisha may not have been treated with such caution but if I were to go off tangent, I could do some real damage. They couldn't risk it.

This was where the Darkling's Heartrenders helped. Fedyor would assess my condition daily and test me by manipulating my emotions. The process annoyed me greatly and reminded me that if you ever came into a real fight with a Heartrender, you’d either have to stop their hands from connecting or throw a dagger into their heads faster than their attacks. Whatever you did, it would have to be fast.

“You’re doing quite well, Miss Alina,” Fedyor remarked. I hadn’t seen him and quite a while-he had been stationed in Kirbirsk for a while and I listened to him carefully for bits of useful information.

“Our General wants us to keep track of all the Grisha assigned in West Ravka. Things are starting to stir, Miss Alina.” I cupped my face with my palm and sighed.

“I know. We have to be ready when the tide crashes.” And if I could destroy the Fold by then, I could change everything. “Fedyor, I think we’ve seen enough together for you to just call me Alina.” I smiled at him gently. He grinned sheepishly.

It didn't look like he had recorded anything abnormal, and I was confident that I would be released soon.

I returned to my room a few days after that. The first thing I did was bathe myself. I then followed the rest of my rituals and braided my hair into a single braid that I swept to my front.

I took my swords and fastened them over my trousers. The kefta I would make a compromise with; I let it hang on my shoulders like a cape rather than wear it. I attached the chain link to make sure it wouldn’t slip.

I examined myself closely in the mirror. Perhaps some antimony for my eyes.
My eyes were a simple brown. Some black around them could help me look sharper.

I was interrupted by a knock on the door and opened it to see Genya beaming.

“Welcome back.”

Genya took over from here. She left alone what I had already handled and helped me solve the conundrum of what to do with my eyes. She used the antimony to create small shadows on my eyelids.

When she turned me to check my appearance, she was pleased.

“You look far more dangerous than usual, Alina.” She sounded almost wistful. I tried not to smile. It would ruin my ‘dangerous’ image. She tightened my sash for me and gave me a knowing look.

“Do be careful,” she said. Her golden eyes brimmed with worry. I didn’t know what she was talking about in particular, but the advice held true universally.

“I will.”

I had outgrown the need for History and Grisha Theory, apparently. The Instructor seemed satisfied with my progress, recommended several books and parted ways with me. I snuck out the book on amplifiers that Baghra had assigned me. I had a stronger understanding now, but the contents still left my mind buzzing with questions. I closed the book a few minutes later and looked around.

I had a free morning.

Time for some scheming.

The Darkling wasn’t anywhere to be found, so it really wasn’t my fault that I didn’t ask him permission.

Would that work as an excuse? Who knew.

I stepped into the Grand Palace, trying to maintain as much authority and grace as possible. I then thought of what the most suspicious, dark corner in the Palace would be, and decided I would learn via exploration.

I’d suppose it wasn’t unnatural for a church to exist inside the Grand Palace. Considering half the things that happened inside of it, I wondered if it would be of any use. A replica of the churches I had seen in smaller towns stood behind carved wooden doors with panels of saints.

I found the Apparat kneeling in front of an empty dias. There would usually be an image of a saint or two hands, but this church housed nothing.

Nothing the Apparat wouldn’t want people to see, anyway. After all, it was my suspicion that this man lead the Sun cult. He turned to look at me and immediately rose to greet me.

“Miss Alina Starkov, it is good to see you.. has faith brought you to my humble church?”
I did something I knew I would hate then. I took his hands in mine and looked into his eyes.

“Yes.”

The Apparat struggled to control his elation. His dark eyes sparkled.

“I heard you were unwell recently. Could this perhaps be about that?”
How this man knew of my condition was a mystery to me. I’d suppose the Apparat could slip between the two palaces without notice. His position was a unique one.

“I just wish to understand the role I have to play, concerning the Fold.” I said innocently.
He took my hands and pressed them to his closed eyes. He then sat on one of the pews and gestured to me to sit next to him.

“They call you the daughter of the Fold, Miss Starkov. They call you many things. Alina the Bright, Sankta Alina of the Fold.. what you are to the people is a beacon of hope. You must destroy the Fold, yes, but you must also be the guiding light of Ravka’s starved.”

Starved. Starved for faith. Starved for hope.

“I want them to know,” I said with resolve. “I want them to know that I hear them, and I will be the light that brings them out of darkness.” I wanted this weasel to think that he owned me.

“Noble words, My lady.” My lady? “You are proving to be exactly who you need to be. Your destiny will guide you on the path of the people.” He then looked at me, familiar intensity in his eyes. “You have suffered greatly, and yes, you will suffer more.”

I looked him square in the eye.

“For the people, I am willing.”

The Apparat gave me a beaded rosary with a small charm attached to it. It was of the Sun, roughly carved in wood. Small waves around it marked its rays.

“My lady, I wish you good health.”

The Apparat had switched terms for me. It sounded innocuous but I had a feeling that it wasn’t.

My lady.

Our Lady Of The Light.

I started eating a plum as I walked into the Little Palace grounds. If I ate it fast enough, it wouldn’t get colder. Bad logic.

I had time to spare but couldn’t think of any more scheming to do. The day’s quota had been completed.

I paced into the snowed fields. A few Inferni were clearing the stone pavilions near the lake with their fire. I watched in silence until I noticed a familiar figure walk towards me.

“Too cold to do gardening, hm?” I drawled. This man was as annoying as he was handsome.

He scratched his head apologetically. “Perhaps you could forgive me one day.” He exhaled and I could see his breath turn into mist. “Besides, there’s more you’ll need to forgive me for.” What was that supposed to mean?

We walked until we hit a row of trees. Prince Nikolai leaned against one as he removed a paper from beneath his white fur cloak. He handed it to me.

I read its contents and sighed a breath of relief. “Malyen Oretsev, tracker, stationed in Kirbirsk under the 16th regiment of the First Army. Status: Alive.”

“Your boy’s alright, sweetling.”

I felt a surge of gratitude for the man. He was definitely some category of idiot, but he had stayed true to his word.

Mal was alright.

“Were you able to contact him?” He shook his head at that.

“He travels further up North now. It’s hard to stay in touch with any of them.”

So ‘stationed’ was a term of no use. Well, he was a tracker. I looked at the Prince with determination.

“Could you get a letter sent to him?” He grinned slyly at that and I knew I had asked something of a man that bargained.

“I would like something in return for this, Miss Starkov.”

I sighed impatiently. What did this one want?

“Name your price.”

“Be my friend.” I laughed out loud before I could stop myself.

“You’re joking!” I looked around and surveyed his handsome face but no, his hazel eyes held sincerity.

“I’m not.”

Oh.

I walked into the domed hall after having made the strangest deal of my life. Prince Nikolai, or Nikolai, as he had insisted me call him, waited patiently for me to bring him my letter. He then bowed swiftly and waded his way through the snow.

Ada fully approved of my changed attire. She had much to say-we hadn’t spoken in a while.

“You look like a hawk, a really elegantly decorated hawk,” she said. I smiled at the compliment. She chattered on about what I had been missing out on; Marie’s disdain for Sergei had turned out to be some form of affection instead. Ada had managed to impress Botkin with her improved footwork and everyone was interested in the King and Queen’s Fete that would approach us in due time. I would hear more about it at the banya.

Baghra was severe when she saw me. She poked me with her stick and told me that I couldn’t control a thing if I couldn’t control my own emotions. I was just relieved that she still trusted me. Or at least, that she seemed to. She still wouldn’t speak of the books I had been reading, and I assumed that it was for my betterment.

“Planning to slice the Fold open with those swords, girl?” She barked. A twinge of annoyance sprouted.

“Considering that I’ve killed hundreds of volcra to your zero, I think I can pick my own weapons.” I snapped back. She stiffened at this and harrumphed.

“At any rate, it looks like you won’t be killing volcra for a long time. Or anyone else,” she added darkly and I realised that she probably knew that I had killed people. She sat on her armchair and I took to the floor.
The comfortable darkness embraced the hut and the fire crackled to keep the place warm enough for Baghra.

Which was to say, hot.

“Time is running out,” she seemed to say to herself as she adjusted her cloak. “Time is running out and for the sake of everyone, you better be ready to fight for your people.”

Was she still talking about the Fold?

“Baghra,” I said suddenly, “if there’s anything I should know-“

“What you learn is up to you, girl!”

Well. That was good to know.

Before I left, Baghra told me that my lessons with her had come to an end. A part of me understood and another part didn’t. Was she suspicious of me now? Did she think I would succumb to my emotions?

It didn’t matter. I looked back on her hut, completely hidden by the snowy trees. She had given me more than enough to work with.

Botkin was happy to see me. He slapped me on the back and told me of the weapons training I had missed out on. He wasn’t as happy about how I had been maintaining my swords.

“This steel is tired. Change it before it changes your fight.” I surveyed my blades for myself. They’d looked fine to me but I would take Botkin’s advice and have them looked over at the Fabrikator workshop.

Later that evening, Ada took me to the banya. The hot steam felt soothing to my skin but Ada attempted to kick snow into the room and at me, earning laughs from the Grisha surrounding us.

She handed me a mug of kvas and I appreciated her presence of mind. I wasn’t too fond of drinking and avoided it in the domed hall but here, I decided to indulge a little. My eyes narrowed when I tasted vodka in the mix.

“I’m thinking of what we’ll do for the demonstration,” she said, and then giggled with giddiness. We had reached a long room filled with heated pools. She explained to me that the King and Queen’s Fete was some type of exhibition/ball where the nobility would watch Grisha display their abilities in semblance to a performance.

It sounded ridiculous but a ball and dancing didn’t. This would be interesting. I waved at Marie from a distance and she waved back.

“You know, some people spotted Prince Nikolai on the grounds earlier,” Ada whispered to me, only that she was slightly drunk and had yelled instead.

“Is that so?” I asked. I felt really warm. It was the banya. Or the kvas.

“He’s not bad on the eyes, is he?” This was Marie-wasn’t sure when she’d gotten here.

“A better sight than his brother for sure.” Nadia was here too.

“I think he’s good at gardening,” I said suddenly. Everyone gave me a long look and started laughing.

I sat down and leaned against a wall as the others continued chattering. I felt warm. And normal. I closed my eyes and a strange peace washed over me.

This wasn’t bad at all.

If only Mal could be here with me, a small voice said. 

If only.

Chapter Text

The days dropped by quickly, like the dried leaves that abandoned the twisted branches they had once clung to. The reds and yellows scattered across the grounds in a gentle gradation, rustling with the slightest breeze, crushing underneath the boots of its travellers. The steadily building snow, creeping, returning to cover the grass told me that winter was on the precipice of engulfing this sight, its melancholia on its way to kiss the sky a muted shade of grey. Every year, seasons would struggle against each other, and winter would always win. The grounds were unlike the gardens and greenhouses here; Fabrikators did nothing to keep the trees warm or the grass verdant. And what need did nature's beauty have for their interference? I would have no other way of knowing how long it had been since I'd first arrived here, no hint as to how far from any semblance of the word 'home' I truly was. The chilly air failed to fulfil its intended effect on me as I ventured past the grounds towards the Summoner's pavilions, where the Etherealki trained. I was careful not to use the cut-it was too dangerous to be used around people. The others were curious about my abilities; whatever they had seen was from a distance. Some already knew, though.

“You have to show us your walls of light,” Ivo told me. He was visibly excited that I was here. I obliged and drew a short wall that lined a part of the lake. People cheered and at that moment, I realised I didn’t like being made a spectacle.

If only Botkin were Grisha. There was only so much I could train with him now. If he were a Grisha and a Summoner at that, we could have a proper fight. Maybe it was disrespectful of me to think that way; Botkin wouldn't complain if I used my powers against him in a fight. After all, no fights were truly fair.

I walked past several pairs of Grisha training with eachother. I had no partner. I stopped when I saw Zoya swiftly knock out a Tidemaker with a spiral of air.

She was strong.

I would shoot my shot then.

I walked up to her and she stiffened but recovered with her practised smile.

“Drop it.” Was the first thing that came out of my mouth. Her brows raised but she needed no explanation.

“What do you want?” She snapped at me.

“To give you an opportunity.”

“Opportunity to do what?” A familiar sneer played on her beautiful features. I smiled my winning smile.

“To kick my ass.”

My proposition had worked. Zoya looked perfectly happy with the idea of fighting me. We walked further into an unoccupied area.

“Whatever happens,” she then said, “The Darkling must know that this was entirely on you, not me.” She faced me and settled into stance.

“You have my word.”

Our practise was the day’s highlight. Zoya was particularly ruthless with me, and I enjoyed it very much. I couldn’t beat her without flashing. I also realised that she called her element faster than I did. I bounced beams of light onto her to blind her temporarily and she weaved through them with grace.

“I’ll end this soon enough,” she growled. Her silver bracelet glistened in the sunlight-an amplifier. I returned a smile, which annoyed her greatly.

As elements, light and air couldn’t do much to each other. The air could move the heat that came with my light but not at its original intensity. When I removed the heat, they were useless against each other. The neutrality of our elements didn’t apply to our bodies. I could blind and incinerate her; she could cut me into ribbons with sharp currents and blow me into the lake. She was a powerful Grisha and I knew that I could learn something from her. She stopped to catch her breath and I flashed in for a final attack. Whatever her strengths were, she wasn’t faster than my light.

No one was.

She walked with me to the infirmary-which wasn’t necessary for either of us. She was probably doing it to stay in favour with the Darkling. Good diplomacy.

“You know,” I said, and she looked aghast that I had decided to say something to her.

“I’m sorry about what happened in Botkin’s class. I didn’t have to attack you like that.” Her blue eyes widened and then narrowed in suspicion.

“The fault was mine," she admitted after moments of silence. "I attacked you first with my element.” Her voice was strained. “I don’t care that you’re the Sun Summoner. I found you annoying and that was all the reason I needed." 

“That’s fine with me. I just felt like apologising.”

“Well I’m telling you that you shouldn’t,” she said heatedly. I smirked at her.

“I felt like apologising, but I never said that I felt like meaning it.”

The look on her face then was priceless.

We split ways soon enough. I headed straight to my room after dinner. When I noticed that the doors were unlocked, my hand reached a sword and I pushed in slightly to see if anyone was in there.

I rushed in, sword drawn.

“Hopefully this isn’t an ambush,” my shadowed man drawled. My heart trembled at the sight of him. His face was lit by the moonlight, casting shadows on his cheekbones. He was the moon and its dark side, all at once.

I narrowed my eyes. He was the one leading the ambush here.

“Please tell me you don’t have keys to my room.”

“Alright,” he said. “I don’t have keys to your room.”

I sighed and closed the doors. This couldn’t be good. He leaned against my bedpost and studied me for a long moment.

“You look well, Alina.”

“Thank you,” I replied stiffly.

“I spoke to Baghra. She says there’s nothing left to teach you.”

I nodded and removed my gear, placing them on the table. “I’m on my own now.”

“You’ll never be on your own.” I met his intense gaze.

“You will train with me now.” My heart jumped and a new energy coursed through. I would train with him. I could fight him.

“Alright,” I said. I couldn’t say anything else. I was too focused on studying him, anticipating his movements. The pull tried to drag me forward and I resisted it, fists clenched.

I wondered if he felt it too.

“Alina, that night-“ I froze. Which one was he talking about? “when we were at Baghra’s hut.. I apologise if I had hurt you back then. It was not my intention.” His eyes glinted with silver as he spoke. “I only sought an amplifier as a tool that could help you.” I bristled at the word amplifier, Baghra's books striking a warning blow at me. 

“They aren’t tools. They will make you stronger but they will set your limits in stone.” Amplifiers did expand your powers, but the idea of relying on an object seemed to clash against the idea of small science itself. Grisha manipulate matter. Even if an amplifier fit into that equation, it would only inhibit the growth of a Grisha’s ability to manipulate matter on higher levels. It was a foreign object-it could get in the way. Was this the conclusion Baghra had wanted me to arrive to?

He disagreed but didn’t say a word.

“You saw what I did that night," I muttered.

“I did,” he said softly. “You were incredibly powerful.”

“I was an animal.” I laughed bitterly. I had lost control. I could have destroyed the Little Palace. I could have killed innocent people.

I realised then that I had been inching towards him. He held his palm to my cheek and it felt cold to touch. Why was he always cold?

“You were beautiful.”

When he kissed me, I didn’t protest. His lips crashed into mine and I understood that if anything was ever meant to be, it was this.
His arm wrapped around my waist firmly and a part of me wondered why I had tried so hard to resist this, this calling, this connection. I could feel his energy so clearly now; he was all power, all beauty. His hands moved to the chain link of my kefta but his lips never left mine. I heard it drop to the floor with a soft thud. I pulled back to catch my breath and turned away for a moment.

“Why do you resist?” He breathed. I turned to look at him. His cheeks flushed gently and his eyes held several emotions. Confusion. Hunger. Anger. I laced my arms around his neck in a silent hug and he stiffened at my touch. I had to know. I had to ask him.

“Do you feel it? Do you feel the pull? Like you might die if you don’t have me?”

The response was a soft whisper.

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand it,” I whispered back. I didn’t. I pulled back again and he placed his forehead against mine, arms still around me.

“We are opposing aspects, Alina. I have lived a long life and I have never met someone like you. We are bound together.” It was true. Darklings lived long lives. And if I was anything like him, it meant that-

“Will I live the same as you?” My voice was strangled. I didn’t want to be the only one that survived, not when I had so many people to lose.

“You will,” he said, and I felt his breath on my neck, almost ragged. I closed my eyes and held him in silence.

Perhaps that’s why I had reached him. Or why I had these dreams of him. If I hadn’t, I would have been alone back then. And he..he had been alone all this time.

All this time.

I couldn’t bear it anymore.

I released him and we stood in a moment of silence. Eternity took a slow breath, waiting for us to reunite.

And then my lips claimed his. My hand raked through his hair and his slid underneath my tunic. There was no stopping this. He swiftly propped me up on one of my tables. I raised an eyebrow.

“There’s a perfectly good bed right there, you know.” He laughed darkly and kissed my collarbone, sending shivers all over my body.

“I am going to make this slow, Alina.” His hands undid my sash, all while his lips continued their assault. I closed my eyes in fervour.

“Painfully, painfully slow.” I burned underneath his kisses. He was undeniably cruel.

We stilled when we heard a knock on the door. I opened my mouth to say something but when the Darkling moved to answer it, I realised.

“You told Ivan you’d be here?” I half whispered-half shouted.

How did that conversation even go? I shuddered at the thought of it. Before he could open the door, I had scrambled my way out of sight.

A painfully awkward minute later, he walked back into the room. Too bad. I had already decided to hide in the bath.

“Alina,” he called.

“I suddenly decided that I don’t like you very much,” I called back. Soon enough, his arms found me.

“Is that so? Perhaps..I should put an end to your indecisiveness,” he murmured. I trembled at his silken threat.

“I must leave now,” he said. Ah, but of course. Good work Ivan.

“Why? Is Ivan going to pick up where you left off?” I enjoyed the audacity of my words. He didn’t.

He claimed my mouth in a harsh kiss that literally took my breath away.

“I ought to tame that tongue of yours. And one of these nights, I will.”

I sighed as I heard the doors close.

Another sleepless night.

I was the most sinful in Genya’s eyes. She gave me a hard look the next morning when she appraised my appearance.

“Perhaps I should just wear a scarf,” I told her. It was winter-scarves were a reasonable accessory.

“Perhaps you should teach him to restrain himself a bit,” she admonished. Her fingers moved swiftly and I realised that she was braiding my hair into a crown.

“Oh yes, a perfectly reasonable idea. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

We looked at each other and burst into laughter.

“Alina,” She then said.

“Don’t.. don’t give your heart up. The Darkling.. until now, I believed that there was no one like him. But when I see you, I think that..” She didn’t complete her sentence.

“Just, be careful.”

“Of powerful men.” I looked at her when I said it.

“Of powerful men.”

At breakfast Genya told me that I was to train with the Darkling that day at the Summoner's pavilions. Ada was thrilled at the prospect of watching me face off with him.

“I don’t think there’s been a rarer circumstance,” she said as she bit into a piece of bread. “Just try not to destroy the place, will you?”

“If it can survive you, I think it’ll be fine, Ada.”

Marie and Genya broke into laughter. I stared at them quizzically. Was this the start of a friendship?

I smiled to myself.

We talked about the upcoming Fete and how each order had been preparing for it. The Fabrikator workshop had started working overtime; Genya had tried to visit David earlier and found him behind a pile of specification sheets. Marie talked about a performance-Summoners took precedence because of the nature of their abilities. I wondered if I would be preparing for this thing. I probably would.

Fedyor was waiting for me at the hall’s entrance.

“Miss Alina-Alina.” He corrected himself. “I will escort you to the pavilions now.”

Talk about unnecessary.

On our journey, I took the chance to ask Fedyor more about the situation on ground. His expression turned grim.

“Grisha are disappearing at a faster rate. We have been unable to contact some of our Second Army soldiers. Our spies are yet to report on the specifics but it doesn’t sound pretty.”

The wheel kept turning. I had to get stronger if I wanted to stop any of this.

The farthest section-where Zoya and I had trained earlier had been cordoned off with a line of Oprichniki. When we reached there, I saw the Darkling stand amongst his men, muttering something to them. He quickly parted instructions to them when he saw me approach him.

“Good morning Alina.”

“Good morning.” He fixed on my face for a second.

“You look a little tired.”

“Couldn’t sleep last night.” I gave him a hard look. The edge of his mouth twitched.

“Ready to test your limits?”

“Let’s get started.”

I hadn’t met someone as strong as he was. I wanted to swing my swords at him in a frenzy but he was keen on assessing the extent of my powers first.

“When I call for your power, don’t resist,” he said. I nodded. He placed his hand on mine and I understood his meaning. A surge of energy rushed from within, pushing for me to release it. I let it go and a column on light engulfed us immediately. I felt limitless, like I could light up the entire country. I wondered what would happened if we did this within the Fold.

The brightness had turned the entire landscape a blinding white. He fixed his eyes on mine and I could see the light reflected in all of his features.

And then came the heat. I tightened my grip in warning.

“The heat, it can-“

“Kill us all, yes.” he said smoothly.

“Hopefully that isn’t the point.”

“You paint me a cruel picture, Alina.” A cold smile played on his lips.

I could tell the temperature rising. It wasn’t dangerous. Yet. Sweat ran down his forehead and I cursed him for his beauty, even in moments like this.

He released his hand from mine and our scenery returned to us, blinking back into existence. His Heartrenders approached us immediately out of concern for their General.

I looked around and noticed that we were standing in a perfect green circle where snow used to be. My shadowed man was lost in thought. He then looked at me to say:

“We’re a lot closer than you think, Alina.” I recognised his meaning immediately.

We were closer to destroying the Fold.

But how close was 'closer'?

I was moody by the time we had finished. We hadn’t fought. The Darkling escorted me across the grounds alone and I caught a glimpse of Ivan’s smirk when we walked past his guard, definitely a reference to last night.

The audacity.

I walked faster and then realised he had linked his arm in mine. When I slowed the pace again, the Darkling made an observation.

“You’re upset,” he stated.

“I wanted to fight you.”

“You wanted to rip into me.”

“Same thing.” I smiled at him, half light, half menacing.

“You will get the chance,” he then said. A thrill rushed through me. Would I?

“I give you my word, Alina. But first, there is something we must work on.” I raised a brow at him.

“The way you call your power..there is a simpler way to manifest it.”

He refused to explain more. Apparently he would show me soon enough.

We had nearly reached the entrance when a familiar figure called out my name. I stopped, closed my eyes, and then opened them to meet possibly the dumbest man on the continent.

Nikolai was on the steps of the grounds entrance.

Chapter Text

My shadowed man felt dangerous on my arm again. He dipped his head in a bow and asked, “What brings you here, Moi Tsarevich?”

Grisha or not, Nikolai must have felt the pure menace that emanated from the Darkling as he spoke. My eyes moved between the two men, searching for any subtext I could find. Judging his behaviour from so far, a part of me understood that Nikolai had a sense for bravado. He seemed the risk-taking type.

That was impressive. And stupid of him.

“I’m just here to visit Alina.” He wore a brave smile but his tone betrayed a twinge of nervousness. I mentally slammed my head against a wall. If the Darkling found out that I had been talking to him..well, I had already been found out.

Nikolai held my gloved hand in his and placed a chaste kiss on its back. The tension raised the flesh of my skin and I prayed for this to be over soon-we were inviting suspicion with every prolonged second. The Darkling stepped aside to deliver a chilling smile. He then bowed once more and slithered away. The look in his eye before he left warned me that I had a storm coming.

Nikolai shuddered as soon as he was out of sight. "Even after all these years, I find him terrifying." I nodded absentmindedly until feeling started to return to my fingers and I recognised my own anger. What had he been thinking? I grabbed his arm and dragged him into the nearest abandoned corridor.

"You have exactly one minute to tell me why you're here," I threatened. He smiled sheepishly, moving strands of his hair with his finger.

"I just wanted to see you, Alina."

My eyes narrowed to slits. I knew a schemer when I saw one. His waiting at the entrance wasn't a bumbling accident, it was calculated. Being seen by the Darkling had been his intention. He sighed in mock frustration and I thought about killing him for the third time in that minute alone.

"Walk with me, won't you?"

"I won't."

He frowned a little at that and a feeling of wonder settled in me. I was either witnessing an idiot or the greatest actor of all time.

"The price for me sending your letter was friendship, if you can recall," he reminded me.

A steep price. Being seen with the Prince suggested..involvement. In other words, political leverage.

I thought about Mal. I thought about studying his scrawl as I read his letter.

I took a deep breath. This was going to be a mess either way.

"Walk with me, won’t you?”

I could barely taste the quail on my plate. My fingers tapped nervously on the domed hall’s table in cold anticipation. I tried to smile as Sergei told me another one of his jokes but my mind danced in circles madly, reminding me of the fact that soon enough, the Darkling would want answers. Answers that he could force out of me.

Being summoned by the Darkling was becoming routine. My fingers traced the dark vines painted onto the wall as they extended into the corridor and I revisited the idea that I had problems with authority.

The doors to the War Room were open this time. I stepped in to the familiar scene and took account of the single variable present.

My shadowed man said nothing at first, his silence the one before a deadly explosion.

“I didn’t realise you had made a friend out of the young Prince, Alina.” If there was anger, his cool tone disguised it completely.

“It’s the other way around, really.” I continued to watch him as I circled the room towards him. The Darkling hadn’t raised his eyes from the document he was writing on. I leaned in to read it. Orders of Inquiry. Missing Second Army officers.

“It’s worsening,” I realised out loud. Fedyor had been right. He said nothing, but considering how tightly curled his first on the table was, I knew that he was frustrated.

Moments passed.

“I saw him on the Grand Palace grounds after the time I had spoken to the Queen. We spoke briefly. I had no idea who he was." No lies spoken there. The Darkling’s mouth hardened into a thin line. Was he going to say something?

When I realised that he wasn’t, I sat on the edge of his table. He didn’t look up. Perhaps he was too occupied with his work to be angry at me. That would be good news.

“I trust you, Alina.” I looked at him. Trust? That was a lie. If he trusted me, he would confide in me. Neither of us trusted each other. A silence fell.

“You think I’m lying.”

“I think I don’t know you.”

“I think you will.”

“Don’t make promises-“

“That I can’t keep? You think I would break a promise, Alina? Do you see me as cold, as unfeeling?”

I saw a boy with bitterness in his throat. Ready to be hated. Ready to hate back.

Instinct guided me to say “No.”

He sighed and looked up at me for the first time.

“Darklings are always hated or feared, surely you must know that. The sin of my ancestor continues to weigh on my legacy.”

He was talking about the Fold. A Darkling had created it.

“Darklings have always led the Second Army. There is honour in wanting to protect your people,” I told him. He said nothing. The air felt heavy with stillness and a strange loneliness filled me. I took in his appearance once more and kicked my legs off of his table to leave.

“Stay.” Neither order nor invitation. A request. I felt the pull beckon me towards him, magnetic, soft and pleading. I returned to my previous position and in a moment of boldness, gingerly placed my hand on his clenched fist. His cold hand relaxed under mine and yet, he didn’t meet my eye. I could sense his power and the warmth of my hand shift to his. I fell into my habit of studying the maps on the walls and wondered how a man could feel so close yet distant at the same time. The maps I already knew.

About him-I wanted to know more.

I couldn’t tell when he had completed his work. At some point, his hand stirred underneath mine and my eyes fluttered open to meet his.

“You ought to sleep on an actual bed,” he said.

“Anything’s a bed if you’re tired enough.”

His eyebrow arched, an amused smile reaching his lips.

“Are you always this optimistic?”

“Hardly.” He chuckled at that.

My shadowed man left his seat to collect more documents from a nearby cabinet. The tiredness had taken some of my balance from me. Something about the early hours in the morning laid your feelings out bare. I felt the same lingering affection I had felt for him all these years, only more intense now. I felt weak. We stood in front of each other now and I felt the pull again.

He reached down to collect me in his arms and I let him. The feeling was warm, intricate. I couldn't understand why that was.

“I want to trust you,” I told him. He nestled his face in the curve of my neck.

“Tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine,” he said softly.

Another human glimpse. Another slip from porcelain perfection. I wanted to believe it. I wanted to believe him.

“Soon enough.” The promise left my lips without command. He stilled for a second.

“Don’t make promises that-“

“I can’t keep? We’re doing this again?” I felt his sly smile on my collarbone as I said it. Would this ever start to feel wrong?

“I should go,” I realise out loud. Genya would be waiting outside my room soon enough. I would go back to meet her and figure out what to make of my day. His arms loosened and I stepped away.

“I hope your day goes well, Alina.”

He looked as though he wanted to say something, but stopped himself with a small smile. I paused in a moment of scrutiny.

Anyway. Onwards.

When the Darkling’s doors had opened themselves to me, I had realised what he had been tempted to remind me of.

I had walked out of his doors. First thing in the morning.

The few Grisha that had arrived early for breakfast froze at the sight of me and then broke into furious whispers. I cursed him and then myself.

This was punishment for yesterday. That cruel man.

“They’re calling you the Darkling’s bride, you know?” I aimed a pillow in Genya’s direction. A muffled sound told me that I had succeeded.

“Is bride really the term that they’re going with?” I mumbled into my pillow. If Nikolai had made a move by being seen with me, the Darkling had reversed it. Or made it worse. I would find out soon.

Games. How much I hated them now.

“And they’ve seen you with Prince Nikolai as well, you know.” Ah yes. I was proving to be a terrible player.

My response was muffled by the pillow. Genya had the good grace to change the subject.

“How far have you come along with your training?” I flipped over to lie on my back and noticed her sitting on the edge of my bed.

“I’m closer than I used to be, but it’s not nearly enough to destroy the Fold,” I said bitterly. It was beyond frustrating.

“They say it was created with a forbidden science,” Genya said, twirling a lock of red hair in her finger.

Merzost wasn’t exactly a science, but Genya wasn’t far off on the fact that it had been forbidden. I had tried to learn more about the Fold and Baghra’s books had proved useful.

The Darkling had lusted for power above everything else. He had wanted an army-which resulted in the creation of the Fold.

The Fold itself-as much as I preferred to not think of it during my travels, felt otherworldly. Monsters like the volcra had never been recorded until they materialised in the Fold.

Merzost had a price. That separated it from small science almost entirely-while small science requires energy to manipulate matter into a select element, Merzost had potential for terribly great things, with a terribly great price attached to it.

A perversion of balance. You cannot give what was never yours to begin with.

“It’s like a world of its own,” I voiced my thoughts out loud.

“I wouldn’t know,” she said, her feet swinging from the bed now. "I’ve never travelled through it.” That made sense considering she had been in the Queen’s service from a young age. Perhaps it was a good thing that Genya had never seen the inside of the Fold. The volcra were unlike anything else on earth.

Corrupted monsters, one book had called them.

Corrupted monsters.

I jolted upright with a start.

Could it be?

No.

“Where are you going?” Genya called after me as I rushed to the door. I looked at her confused eyes and swept the hair that had fallen on mine behind my ear. My body had gone numb entirely.

“I’m going to see Baghra.”

My thoughts flooded in as I rushed onto the grounds, the revelation giving my legs more energy that they’ve ever had. Did I even want to know? I stopped for a bit to catch my breath and consider pretending that the thought hadn't crossed my mind at all.

No. I would find out, whatever the cost.

I barged into Baghra's hut and found her on her armchair.

“Shut the door, girl, you’re letting the heat escape!” I shut the door. Baghra gave me a long look, her bony fingers closed the book she had been reading shut. She eyed me with expectation. She knew what I was here for. When no words came out, she said-

“Does knowing cause you pain, girl?” I felt the weight of each word stand over my chest.

“The people that had died when the Fold was created..they..”

“Say it, girl,” she snapped, her voice crackling like thunder.

My fingers dug into my palms and I steadied my breath. Merzost had a price. If something was 'corrupted', it meant that it had a previous state before it reached a state of corruption. And people had died. Thousands of them. The volcra hadn't manifested out of thin air. The words came out in a strange, muted tone-

“The volcra used to be men.”

“And women. And children,” Baghra added quietly.

Unease. Horror. Guilt. All rolled in like dark clouds before a storm.

“Have I.. have I been killing-“

“No, you have not killed innocents. You have killed volcra. There is no saving them, child.” Her voice was grave but softness slipped when she said the word 'child'. I sunk to the ground. Was that true? And even then, they had been innocents. Ravkans. I had been killing my own people.

"The Fold is a wound that festers. You may not see it now, but when you do, it will be too late for all of us.” I could barely process the words. This was too much.

“You can destroy it.” She rose swiftly to take my arm in hers. I met her sharp eyes, darker than black.

“You must destroy it, without fail. This Fold, this tear will not stay quiet. Let no one stop you, girl.” Her voice was harsher than ever.

“If anyone stands in your way, kill them.”

Baghra noted my confused expression and removed her hand from mine. She then retreated to her chair like nothing had been said so far.

“Leave. I cannot help you any further.”

I left her hut in a daze and my knees threatened to give way. If dread had sprouted in my heart earlier, it filled me now completely. Who would try to stop me? Why were those books hidden?

Merzost followed a system of exchange. Was it always corrupt?

Despite her words, I could help but think of the people the volcra used to be. What would their screams sound like to my ears now.. I would be too numb to process it. The Drüskelle had been people too-and still, this was different. This was haunting.

And Baghra had known. Why hadn't she told me?

"Alina?” I snapped back to look at David's face. We were in the domed hall now. The wiry Fabrikator regarded me with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Are you alright?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

He looked down at his plate and said- “If..if there’s anything, you can always..” I looked at him in surprise and noticed that he had kind eyes.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

“Genya speaks highly of you,” he said, and I could see a tinge of pink on his ears when he said it.

I smiled to myself. They deserved this gentle love.

“She’s a good person.” Despite her circumstances, Genya managed to stay strong and kind. I still wanted to help her, even though I knew she couldn’t be a loyal friend to me.

David smiled weakly.

“She is.”

“Could you take a look at my swords?” I asked abruptly, remembering Botkin’s words from earlier.

“The blades need reinforcement,” he said quickly. I arched a brow. They were in their scabbards-how had he known?

“I have an instinct for these things,” he mumbled. I smiled at that. Genya had good taste.

I noticed that afternoon that the Pavilions were now occupied with busy Summoners preparing for the Fete. I grimaced when I remembered that I would have to contribute as well.

Perhaps a sprinkle of sunshine. Compared to what I had to face, the demonstration felt like a bitter joke.

And even then, my view of a good performance would be if they allowed me and a band of Inferni to burn the Grand Palace to the ground. Now that would be a sight worth seeing. I gave Ada my opinion and she agreed wholeheartedly.

“We would secure the alcohol before burning the place down, though. That kind of event deserves an after party.” I nodded-That made perfect sense.

I bounced light off of the lake, sweeping it towards the shore like a thin sheet of paper. My fingers twitched and instead of restlessness, I felt hollowed out completely. Could a fight restore feeling to my skin? I surveyed the crowd for an opponent. Zoya's annoyed voice rang through-I found her bossing around a few other Grisha, barking instructions at them. Ada had disappeared out of sight completely. I realised that I couldn’t fight anyone here today. The Fete was priority now.

Well. I still had one option left.

Botkin wasn’t surprised to see me enter the training room. The Darkling was right; he and I were kindred spirits.

“Today we fight for real, Animal girl.” The name didn’t faze me anymore. I took two longswords off of the wall, no wood this time. He mirrored my movements.

The thrill of a fight was the risk of death. It was the mortality involved in putting yourself up against another, no rules, boundaries. One lives, one dies. Botkin was always careful with his students but he was willing to make the exception for me. We fought, if not to kill, for absolute defeat. We would find out what that meant very soon.

This would definitely cost Botkin if he injured me badly. He knew that this would motivate me to stay ahead of him, though-his thinking was beyond unconventional and I loved it. I concentrated on my breath and buttoned up my kefta for this one.

I opened the fight this time. My physical combat may not be as strong as Botkin’s, but I doubted that he could match my actual swordplay. He parried my strike perfectly, the sound resonating through the room with a sharp clang.

I stepped backwards to recover as I realised that my estimation of his skills had been wrong. Perhaps he was as good, and we would suffer for my mistake. My back foot moved to strike his shin and I managed to retrieve myself. I would then sidestep his lunging strike and swing diagonally at his left shoulder. He predicted this, nearly knocking my sword out of my right hand.

I tightened my grip and rolled into the ground to reposition. Botkin turned to face me and then, I saw a monster in shape of a man. No taunts this time. He roared and the chills reached my bones in an instant.

A mad grin found the edges of my face. This was a fight worth dying for.

I laid myself on the ground and Botkin sat next to me, almost just as tired. We had run out of energy in less than an hour. Neither of us could continue the fight. Everything in my body screamed in pain and yet I felt relief that they were still capable of screaming.

“Monster,” I managed to say. He surveyed me in silence.

“Monster,” he replied gruffly. An acknowledgment. Fair enough.

I raised my hands to survey the extent of damage. They were bleeding. Again. The kefta had protected me from the swords, but my gloves hadn’t. Were my gloves not corecloth? I would ask David later.

I got up on my feet and Botkin started to dress my wounds. He looked a lot worse; I had slashed through his tunic a few times. They didn’t look good for surface wounds. I half closed my eyes. I wanted to rest. I also felt more alive than ever; I had felt every particle of air on my skin, every breath that had left my lungs and every grain of sand that had trembled underneath my feet. I wanted to hold onto the feeling.

Before I left, Botkin entrusted me with a dagger. Apparently, steel was earned. He then bowed to me, and I bowed back. He was a man who stood for discipline in war, but he had managed to set aside his ideals to fight with me. I was grateful.

Sergei was no longer surprised when I entered the Infirmary. He sighed deeply.

“We don’t have a spare Sun Summoner, Alina,” he reminded me. A sickening feeling overtook me then. I had slipped again. Was this a lapse in control or just my nature? The image of the volcra sunk into my mind and I decided that I would avoid thinking of such things for now.

I scrambled into the domed hall where Genya was waiting for me-a new but welcome development.

“Free evening?” I asked her. She gave me a small smile.

“I just slipped away when the Queen wasn’t looking.”

We sat with the Materialki and Genya was more than happy to listen to David ramble about the latest orders the workshop had been receiving. I placed my head on the table and wondered if the Darkling was in the palace at the moment.

“He isn’t here, Alina.” I stared at Genya in disbelief, followed by disdain as she returned to her conversation with David.

As we left the domed hall, Genya took my hand in hers and brought it close to her face for inspection.

“You will let me fix you,” she stated. I grimaced. She had noticed my pain as well.

“They’re-“

“No."

“If you’re worried about your grip, I’ve already talked to David about it," she added. I looked into her eyes and recognised my friend.

“Alright.”

That night, I dreamed of Mal. We were small again, laying on our backs to count clouds. An apple lay idle in his hand. In another, he held mine.

“Where are you?” This voice was older, rougher. This voice knew pain.

I listened to insects chirp and birds sing from the distance. I curled my toes into the grassy knoll.

“Alina?”

A different scene. Fire. Destruction. Screams. Mal, eyes wide open, covered in blood that wasn’t his.

The acrid smell of fear. 

I woke up in a cold sweat. The pain in my heart was searing. I couldn’t move. I closed my eyes. This would pass. My eyes opened to the sound of knocking.

When I opened the door, Genya’s wide eyes took in my current state.

“Alina, we have to do something about this.” I sat on the bed as she placed her things on my table.

“We?” I echoed. “It was just a nightmare, Genya, I have no idea what you want me to do about that.” Genya stared at me in contemplation and dragged me to face the mirror.

I understood her meaning then. The girl in front of me looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks. She looked like a ghost of herself.

“Why...” I touched my cheeks with my palms in disbelief. I hadn’t looked like this yesterday.

"I don’t know yet, but we have to find out,” Genya muttered as she started to work on my eyes. She then said,

“If something happens to you, we-“

"You’ll lose your only hope for destroying the Fold, I know,” I interrupted. My voice was heavy. I knew this. I knew what my actions meant. I knew what I was.

“Things continue to stir," I told her. "Our enemies are making their moves while our idiot King lazes on the throne. One lavish event after another, half of Ravka wastes away while the nobles bathe in jewellery. I don’t know how much I can-“ I stopped speaking when I realised how bottled my resentment had been.

I don’t know how longer I can withstand this.

"Not for long.”

Genya walked across the room to pull a chair and my eyes followed in suspicion. Not for long? I sat on the chair and she sat facing me. She couldn’t take my tiredness from me, but managed to restore my features to normal.

Her fingertips finally settled on the scar on my left palm and her eyes searched mine to learn of my decision, which surprised me. I had told her to leave my hands untouched but I hadn’t told her of the scar’s importance.

I nodded silently and she continued her work. I didn’t need a scar to hold on to Mal with. My heart constricted at the thought.

After all, I still had the pain.

Chapter Text

After years of travelling, the reminder of Ravka’s lack of sunlight in the winters felt bitter on my tongue. I stretched my arm out on a small spot of cold sunlight that had found the edge of my bed. The snow had appeared long ago, but the temperature had decreased drastically since then.

I had adjusted well to the cold, but I imagined my being the Sun Summoner could stand as reason for my preferences.

Nature showed a darker, more delicate side of itself during these days. The surface of the lake had frozen solid. The white sun hid behind a cloak of ashen clouds and the sky had been drained of most of its colour.

I still appreciated the early darkness and the tall fires dancing on the furnaces. The instinctive huddling, holding of hands and hiding in darkness cast far too early in the day added warmth to the comfortable melancholy of the season.

With that same melancholy, I thought of my shadowed man. I drowned in the depths of my memories of him but every time I resurfaced, I was reminded of a single truth.

He wasn’t here.

He told me that he’d felt the pull too. And yet, I was writhing alone, wanting alone. The same mad impulse that turned me into an animal wanted me to reach him.

“Tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine.”

I recalled every moment of intimate weakness I had offered him, and all the sweet darkness he had offered in return. And yet, he had given me nothing but smoke. I wanted to scream out loud. I wanted to know all the answers. I wanted to see the intensity of my connection mirrored.

Shadows seemed to dance on the canopied ceiling. My eyes followed their movements.

The bond had stayed somewhat the same. I could sense when he was near and sometimes, I could feel his energy spill into mine. When I couldn't, I could sense that he was responsible for it. And as for what he felt, I could only take his word for.

My feet kicked the mattress in frustration. Anger ebbed and flowed within me steadily. I closed my eyes with silent determination.

I could reach him, I knew it. I had to focus..I had to feel for the string that connected us and follow.

As I drifted into sleep, I tried to maintain a grip on the same thoughts. My hand was on the string now and I would either follow or pull it.

I was close.

Closer.

I got up with a start, only to recognize the contours of my own room. I fell back into my pillow in disappointment but when I noticed my surroundings darken, a chill that raised my skin told me that I had succeeded.

"This is certainly..unexpected," a voice piped in. The Darkling stepped out of the bath and circled my bed slowly, a shark in the water.

I placed a palm over my eyes. I should have planned this a bit more.

"I imagine you were busy," I said, propping myself against the bed frame.

"You imagined correctly." I narrowed my eyes at him. All my frustration at this man and his enigmatic existence, his shadowed words, dark kisses, started to bubble inside my chest.

"You've been stopping the dreams," I half accused. He leaned against the wall opposite, half covered in shadow. Despite his own attempts at restraining his influence, the gravity of his presence stirred within the pits of my stomach.

"Would you like it if I had you in my bedroom every night?,” he asked softly. He prowled towards me as I winced at his play of words.

"Or does my Sun Summoner prefer to do her dark deeds in the day?” His voice was a searing chill now. I watched as his fingers curved around the bed post, eyes watching me like an animal waiting to start its hunt. The action angered and thrilled me in equal measure.

"You're too far away.” A girl’s complaint slipped from my lips. Wanting. Pathetic. "You're too far away and I don't understand it. I don't like it either."

His cold facade briefly held confusion, then..agony. He turned away and looked back at me again. My heart twisted at the sight. Why was this so difficult?

"I don't understand you," I said softly. And I wanted to.

No response. An aching minute passed in silence, until an impossibly soft voice sounded out the words-

"You're too.."

I'm too what?

I reached forward to take his hand but he stepped back, hollowing my heart out in the process.

What was it? What was it that had him kiss me in the moonlight, whisper in the dark, only to turn away now? I wanted to tear him open and spill his thoughts to me.

And even if he turned away, I still saw him. I saw him unlike anyone else, and I sensed that the thought bothered him.

"You said you felt the pull too..But if you felt what I feel, it wouldn't be this way," I realised out loud. The bond was real but his allegiance to it had been a lie.

He leaned back against the wall, his expression colder than ever.

"Goodbye, Alina."

He dissolved into the shadows.

My heart stirred with bitterness and something foreign.

Betrayal.

I hadn’t cared about who we were. We were held by something unspoken, something that was sacred to me. Now I understood that everything I had been feeling, I had truly felt it alone.

I would no longer accept his shadowed games. A deep rooted anguish threatened to rip me to shreds, but I kept it buried. I was Alina Starkov and he was the General of the Second Army. We would work together to destroy the Fold. We belonged to the cause, not to eachother. Baghra had been right. It was time I snapped out my dreams.

I changed into my clothes and stepped out of my room with a new strength. I had gone cold entirely, but I would wear the feeling out until my body recovered. I was going to train.

The lake’s icy surface glimmered as though it had expected my arrival. The sun was nowhere in sight, but that was no matter. I think I had figured out what the Darkling had intended to teach me about manifesting my power.

I didn't have to rely on an actual sun or moon. I didn’t have to call for anything. I remembered Zoya manifesting her abilities much faster than I had.

Matter was everything and everywhere. Light could be that everything if I willed it to be.

I placed my palms together with a new determination. I felt the energy surge from within me, sharper than ever and released it. A blinding light burst all around me, painting the landscape a stark white. Idle memories flashed by. I remembered climbing trees. The crashing of waves against a ship. A cave made of ice. Skinned animals.

Fire. Blood.

Why was I seeing this?

I tried to push the light further, allowing the heat to unleash itself violently. My focus faltered when I felt the edge of my abilities-and the searing pain in my heart when I tried to break through it.

I sunk to the ground with a gasp, breaking all the light I had summoned. The ground was more water than snow now. The colours had started to recover their original hues. More confusion swept through me alongside the pain and I realised it for the second time.

Something was broken.

Something twisted a knife into my heart, and I didn’t know what.

“Alina,” Zoya’s voice snapped me back to reality. The lake. I was here now. The sun’s rays glided over the rippling water on its surface. I had woken them up.

“Any particular reason why you’ve decided to melt the lake and all the snow here?” Her eyes were reading me for signs of a threat. She thought I was unstable.

Was she wrong?

“Just testing my limits, Zoya.The lake may not recover for a while but the snow definitely will.” Was that convincing? I eyed her carefully, searching for hints of suspicion. There were none left.

She offered me her hand then.

“Get up,” she said gruffly. “We’re going to eat.”I accepted it, the pain now a dull echo.

We said nothing as we ate in the domed hall. Marie and Nadia had decided to observe the rare occurrence from the other end of the table. They exchanged whispers and looked at me for signs that I needed saving. I raised a hand in reassurance.

“That tracker,” Zoya said halfway through. My ears rang at the word. I knew who she was talking about.

“Are the two of you friends?” I studied her averted eyes, her seeming nonchalance.

“Childhood friends.”

“Is that so.”

A realisation struck. Zoya was interested in Mal.

I tried not to smile. Poor Mal. I wasn’t sure if he could handle a girl like her.

When Zoya then said that they had been involved in Novokibirsk, another feeling swept in-one that I couldn’t understand. Bitterness? Estrangement? I watched her fox-like expression.

Why was she telling me this?

I told her I would tell her if Mal contacted me regarding his whereabouts, which seemed to please her.

My thoughts lingered on the topic of Mal and Zoya as I retired to my room.

Was it a surprising that Mal had changed? Was I still expecting him to be the boy I once knew him as? The idea that he would like a strong Grisha girl after..his aversion towards my abilities irked me. A part of me wished I didn’t think of him at all.

Mal was my friend and I had left him. How much he had truly changed since was something I didn’t know well enough. Two conversations with him couldn’t fix the life I had missed out on.

I slipped into my night dress and took to staring at the ceiling again. The weight on my heart didn’t allow for sleep.

How long had it been since I worked jobs in Kerch? Or sailed across oceans?

There was some pain in knowing that I had no place to belong to. My place was people; and my people were different and far from reach. Suffocation coiled around my lungs like a snake. This role I was playing-how long would I have to keep playing it?

Times had been different when they were with Mal. I had the orphanage and Ana Kuya’s scoldings. I had green fields, trees and innocence. A small part of me wanted to run back in time and never let go of Mal’s hand. The rest of me knew that at some point, I would have dragged myself across a thousand Folds to answer the call of my shadowed man. The thought that once gave me willpower gave me anger now. How could I give so much to a man I knew so little?

"What kind of deranged fool would I be if I let this continue?", I asked myself out loud. Shame stung the insides of my skin. I had let myself slip so far, but no further.

Ravka was facing destruction from within and its people believed that I could destroy the Fold. This was something that the luxury of palaces could not distract me from.

My feet ached for movement. I had to push harder. I had to destroy my limits and create new ones-then repeat the process. I buried myself underneath the covers and waited for darkness to drag me into sleep.

This was the job-and I’d be damned if I let myself forget it.

My companions in red said nothing as I ate my breakfast in silence. Perhaps it was my new attitude that depicted me as someone on edge that bought their quietness-that or they had nothing to say at all.

I felt Genya’s hand on my wrist then.

“You train with the Darkling today,” she said.

Anticipation welled for multiple reasons. I wouldn’t deny my heart the whirlwind of emotion that the mere thought of him inspired.

I would let myself feel. And then I’d raze him to the ground with my light.

“I never thought I’d see the day where someone would want to fight the Darkling while sincerely believing that they could win,” Ada said. She had walked up to our table, a few books nestled in her arms.

“It’s because she’s the Sun Summoner,” Genya said with a small smile.

“No,” I corrected her. “It’s because I’m Alina Starkov.”

Win or not, I ached for a fight already. And the odds of winning a fight with the belief that you couldn’t win-they had never looked good to me.

The windows in the Darkling’s coach had been sealed shut and I resented him for it slightly. Having a look at Os Alta’s streets would have done me some good.

“I hope you have been well,” he said to me. I nodded stiffly.

A lovely sentiment.

We were headed towards a Materialki workshop-where they dealt with explosives. The idea was that their testing grounds were safe enough for me to use my powers without restraint.

I did enjoy the notion but as I felt the coach rumble over the stony pavement, I couldn’t help but feel estranged from the world outside the Little Palace. With closed eyes, I imagined the exterior of the coach as we moved on. Grand buildings gradually shrinking with humility. Bustling crowds and marketplaces. A gunsmith stopping an argument in front of his shop. New gossip at a dilapidated bar.

Whispers of prayer to the Sun, and the girl that represented it.

These were, of course, just my imaginings. I wasn’t sure if grounds associated with the Little Palace would stray from the glimmering Os Alta that far.

When we exited the coach, we were greeted by an expanse of elegant white buildings forming the outer lining of a curve. The facade was somewhat simple but the elaborate carvings on the pillars bore a striking resemblance to the ones in the Little Palace.

The Darkling’s guard escorted us into the building and I noted that considering its purpose, the place seemed awfully quiet. The walk into the field was a short one and I realised why. The Materialki had placed their facilities across the curve of buildings for either privacy or efficient observation. Every room had a clear view of the grounds. Panels of a material I assumed only was glass-like in appearance lined the inner curve that faced the expanse of the field. I could see rooms filled with tables and rounded glasses and a few Fabrikators scattered around. I touched a marble pillar and realised that it felt a little rougher than it looked-perhaps there was some kind of reinforcement.

“Let us start, then.” The Darkling cast me  an appraising look and then gestured for his guard to stand by before we walked towards the middle of the field. It took us a few minutes to reach the point.

“What are we starting with?” I laced my fingers and stretched my arms in an attempt to shake the nervousness off. If the pain returned to stop me again.. this could mean trouble.

“We will test your limits again,” he said.

I extended my right arm and he took it with his left, the action sending sparks of energy through my body.

“But this time,” His voice turned cold. “I will take you to the edge.”

I fixed him a defiant glare. If he wanted to know my limits, I would let him find out.

“At your own peril, General.”

The light flooded across my field of vision and I knew that this time, there was no stopping the wave of heat that came with it. The air shimmered with it, enclosing us in a vortex of heat and light. I watched the Darkling’s expression through the light dancing in his eyes-lustful, curious, triumphant.

Not for long.

I sharpened my focus, trying to pull as much as I could from around me. His grip tightened and I knew that the heat was starting to get to him. His face glistened with sweat but he stayed determined, trying to dispel the heat away from us with his shadows.

I refuse to let him.

"Alina," he warned.

“You wanted to take me to the edge, General,” I laughed harshly. “Here it is.”

A blistering wave of heat left me and his arm, now covered with tendrils of shadow, slipped away from mine. I immediately felt the absence of his influence but it was no matter. I would just burn more out of the matter around me.

“Alina,” he almost shouted. He had summoned his shadows to cover him and they struggled to hold their form against the light. He might have called my name a few more times, but I could no longer hear the sound. This was my element. I was pure sunfire. I would stop for no one.

Pain shot through my heart like a bullet then, the impact bringing me down to my knees. The light was leaving me now-I could feel the energy around me dissolve into nothing. When exhaustion slammed into my body, I wanted to scream in frustration, at the pain that kept getting in my way. Why couldn’t I go farther? A darker thought swept in and I realised that this could be my limit.

If this was the limit, I couldn’t destroy the Fold. My mind fell into disarray at the realisation. This could be the end.

What would I do then?

What would they do to me?

The sharp odour of corecloth burning brought me to my senses. I placed a glowing hand to my chest in an attempt to calm my heart. I would have to calm down if I wanted my element to leave me. When the last of the light had dissolved and I could see my hands again, I scanned the bleached field for the Darkling. He stood a few paces away from me, still cloaked in his darkness. He looked.. pleased. Something about his expression made my hands feel numb.

He walked towards me and with the strength of his gait, I assumed that he was angry. His face was glimmering marble, filled with curiosity. He moved to take my arm but stopped himself at the last moment, causing me to flinch internally.

Could he not bear to touch me?

When I got to my feet, I noticed his contemplation. Gears were whirring in his head and I wanted to know what he was thinking.

“What made you stop?,” he asked quietly. My throat went dry at the question.

I decided to answer with honesty. There was no avoiding this.

“Pain.”

We walked towards the buildings in silence, smoke still following us. The Darkling eyed me strangely as we walked up the stairs of the entrance. His guard flocked towards us and I saw Sergei rush in to assess my condition. From his widened eyes, I assumed it wasn’t a good one.

“Alina, your-“

“Don’t touch her,” the Darkling commanded. I frowned at him. What was that for? I then realised what Sergei had been concerned about when I looked down on my kefta. My fingers took in the state the garment, or whatever was left of it.

The material had started to melt.

I looked back at the Darkling. He was lost in thought for a few moments, but recovered soon enough. He looked at me and said,

“Wait here. The Fabrikators will attend to you. We will leave in an hour.”

His tone reignited my earlier frustration.

“Yes, General,” I bit back. His brow raised slightly at the title on my lips but settled immediately. He then walked past me, most of his guard following him.

“I had wanted to fight him,” I realised out loud. Was he avoiding it? Sergei sighed his usual sigh of exasperation.

“There’s enough damage to deal with already, Alina. The Darkling might permanently assign me to you if you keep this up.”

I followed him with the hope that he was joking.

Sergei managed to remove whatever ‘damage’ I had done to myself; it was mostly him checking if I hadn’t fried my internal organs by turning into a living furnace. As for the pain, a ghost of it still lingered. I spoke nothing of it.

Afterwards, I was ushered into a separate room by a set of Fabrikators wearing black gloves. They quickly sat me down on one of their tables and removed my kefta gingerly. Half of them were clearly fascinated by what I had done to it and the other half were fascinated by me.

“Has this ever happened before?” One of them asked me while surveying my arms for notable debris.

“No,” I answered. “Is David here?” I asked the man. I could use his company; the Fabrikators were starting to unnerve me. Every question of theirs came with an intense gaze that wished to dissect me on the spot.

He nodded, which relieved me greatly. “David is still documenting observations,” he said. “You’ve given us a lot of consider, Miss Starkov.”

Observations?

Wait.

“I thought I was here for training,” I told him. My spine ached when I stretched my limbs.

“You have been training in the Little Palace just fine, the reports say. We needed you here to study the nature of your abilities.” He eyed me with the same unnerving curiosity that had me asking for David in the first place.

“Which I’m sure you can forgive us for,” he continued. “Your type of Etherealki was considered a myth until recently. And yet, you are here, with powers unlike anyone else’s. Studying you will also help us develop answers of our own to the Fold.”

He was right, but the Darkling had told me of no such thing.

The thought stayed with me on our way back to the Little Palace. The Darkling and I were alone in the coach now.

"Disappointed I didn’t fight you?” He asked, leaning his elbow on the window frame. My fingers took in the edge of my exposed tunic, which my kefta had managed to protect. I looked at him.

“No.” A lie. He angled his face into his hand, brows furrowed.

“Liar,” he said smoothly. And what was he? The patron saint of the truth?

“If you’re expecting a reaction, you’re not getting-“

“If I expected a reaction, you would give it to me.” His lips curved wickedly and the tip of his boot brushed mine slightly in an attempt to prove his point. I controlled my reaction but he seemed to have caught it.

“I know better than to expect anything from you though, especially not a fight.” I said sweetly, laying emphasis on the word especially. The coach darkened considerably.

“Are you provoking me, Alina Starkov?” My fingers twitched at the dangerously low sound of his voice. This fight would be inevitable and I would do my best to make it that way.

“Absolutely. General,” I added.

His eyes were a swirling storm of grey. He parted his lips to say something but then stopped himself. I couldn’t help but smirk at that.

“And when,” he said slowly. “-were you going to tell me about the pain in your chest?”

Ah. He had noticed this time.

“It happens when I try to increase my energy output,” I said. He closed his eyes in contemplation.

“And the Healers, they haven’t found anything wrong with you?”

I shook my head.

“We may have to slow the pace of your training, then,” he said.

“We don’t,” I said hotly. “I’m not some precious little fl-“

“You are.”

His meaning was clear. I averted his gaze, my face feeling warm all of a sudden.

I stepped out of the coach first when we reached. The Darkling’s guard returned to our sides. I had started to step towards the entrance of the Little Palace when his voice stopped me.

“Wait.”

My eyes widened as I watched him quickly unbutton his kefta and remove it. With a swift motion, he placed it on my shoulders. His Oprichniki drew even closer to us because of the action.

I said nothing as I pulled the cool fabric closer around me. Instead, I studied his appearance-his short black tunic, the leather belt that loosely circled his narrow waist, the black breeches that met his knee-high boots and his perfect face that betrayed nothing. You’d think losing the kefta would make him look less threatening. If anything, it exposed him as a cage of a barely restrained darkness; a creature, not a man. His kefta had just been a warning sign.

As we walked towards his quarters, past the stunned faces of Grisha surrounding us, a realisation settled in me.

This was the Darkling’s pride.

And today, I represented it.

The Darkling’s kefta stayed on my shoulders for the rest of the day. I was sure there were more of them in number, so it wasn’t of much consequence to the man that owned it.

It was of consequence, however, to the people around me.

“How do you-“ Ada took a swig of kvas. “melt-“ And another. “A kefta?” She slammed her mug onto the table, sending Marie into a fit of giggles.

“It happens to the best of us,” I replied earnestly.

“I wish that included me,” said Nadia, her fingers studying the dark embroidery on my sleeve. My focus switched between my friends and the eyes of every Grisha in the domed hall.

“I wonder what they see me as,” I said. Ada shook her head with a knowing smile.

“They’re either afraid, awed or jealous,” Nadia said, joining me on my observation.

“And what do you see me as?” I asked the three of them. I didn’t know if I wanted their honest answers.

“Strong,” Marie replied.

“Warm,” Nadia said thoughtfully.

"An idiot," Ada confessed with a grin. The other froze until-

"Actually, she has a point-"

"I wish I could disagree, but it's tr-"

I drowned out the sounds with a mug of Kvas. That was enough honesty for the day.

Chapter Text

“How does this qualify as clothing?”

I raised the flimsy gown that looked like a spider had woven its material. Genya shrugged slightly, still rummaging through the Queen’s closet for something interesting.

“Depending on the occasion, that could be considered as too much fabric.”

“Do I want to know about this occasion?” I shuddered to imagine the Queen wearing something like that dress. I shuddered even more to think about where and why she would wear it.

“You really don't," she said between laughs.

“Would it be a statement if I wore my kefta and nothing underneath it?” I wondered out loud. This ‘search’ for a dress wasn’t going too well.

“Not really..But it would if you wore the Darkling’s,” she answered with a wink. I aimed a shoe at her and she ducked gracefully.

Genya was well aware that I wasn’t exactly fond of the General right now. She welcomed my new attitude towards him with a knowing grin, which I disliked immensely.

“Tell me, why are we doing this again?” My hands sunk into the velveteen floor as I leaned back on them and crossed my legs.

“The Fete is around the corner.” Her voice now echoed; she had probably reached the bottom of the closet.

“They keep saying that but it just doesn’t seem to show up,” I muttered. The Fete had become a semi-constant topic amongst Grisha and I had the distinct privilege of hearing the same concerns from every Order of Grisha.

“Preparations have begun already. It won’t be long now.”

A yawn escaped my lips.

“What does Nikolai do with his free time?” The question entered my head suddenly.

“Prince Nikolai,” She stressed on the word 'Prince', “-likes to hunt. He also likes to be charming, although I’m not sure if that’s an activity.”

Knowing him, it was a full-time activity.

“And what does David do with his?” I changed the subject. Genya tried to restrain her resentment, gowns flying out of her hands at a faster rate now.

“He works, Alina. Metal is all he knows,” she said stiffly.

“Invite him to the Fete.” She stopped her exploration to turn to look at me.

“He won’t come.”

“Then..” I traced my finger on the ground. “Don’t give him a choice.”

Genya’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “David is immune to my charms, Alina. You must know that from observation.”

I recalled my observations-His words about Genya, his kind eyes, the pink of his ears when he mentioned her.

“Definitely.”

It wasn't my place to tell her. David needed some time-but if he waited far too long, I decided I would hit him on the head with a diamond on behalf of my friend.

I decided to head back to the Little Palace for lunch when Genya said,

“Watch yourself on your way out, won't you? The court is..curious about you, Alina.”

Really didn't like the sound of that.

“Whatever for?”

“They’ve been trying to bring you here to get a good look at you.. a few officials have been discussing the circumstances of your..past.” I considered what that could mean when she added,

“And the Queen would like to see you as well, you know.”

I most certainly did not. And if that were the case, why hadn’t I been summoned?

“The Darkling is keeping you out of her sight for now. He keeps telling her and the rest of court that your training can’t be disturbed.”

My heart softened at the thought. He had kept his word to keep me away from politics. And here I was, raiding the Queen's dressing room with Genya-which was still entertaining but not as much now.

Genya noticed the change in my expression. “He’s not.. he’s not all bad, Alina. He’s dangerous, but his intentions are-“

“He’s the reason you’re in that white kefta, Genya,” I reminded her. “You might want to think about that before you speak about his intentions.”

I thought about Genya’s words on my way out. Intentions never held up the same as results and consequences. If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be an outsider amongst her own people.

And if it weren’t for him, I would have suffered alone back then. I tried to remove the thought as I walked past the tunnel of vines and branches that connected the two palaces.

If not finding a suitable dress in the closet of the richest woman in the country was bad enough luck, I imagined my luck running dry as the Darkling swept into the domed hall to eat, sending his poor Grisha into a frenzy for the second time.

Considering the amount of work he had, I had hoped that it would be easier to avoid him. His expectant eyes met mine.

How silly of me.

“Go,” Nadia whispered to me and gave me a small shove. I was tempted to drag her along, since she was so keen on me going but walked up to the Darkling’s table alone, clenched fists on both sides.

A servant drew up my chair for me and I seated myself beside him. I refused to look at him and focused on my lunch, suddenly gaining appreciation for the fine porcelain plates that held my food.

“I understand that you’re..upset,” he said delicately.

Oh my. Eyes of a hawk, this one.

“Your understanding is perfect, General.”
I continued eating under the weight of his attention.

“I’m glad to see you’ve retained your appetite since the last time we dined together,” he said.

I turned in his direction to shoot him a resentful look.

The rest of lunch was agonising. I constantly deflected the Darkling’s attempts at small talk. The fact that me calling him General annoyed him brought me immense satisfaction. The fact that the sound of his voice still made me feel feverish did the exact opposite.

When I thought I could make my escape, he took my arm in his and escorted me into his quarters. I cast Marie-who was observing from a distance a pleading look and she grinned. Well, it wasn’t like she could have done much else about it, anyway.

When we were behind the closed doors of his War Room, I asked him why he had brought me here.

He took a few moments to respond with,

"I wish to speak to you about the upcoming Fete." I resisted the urge to tap my foot on the ground.

"What about it?"

He walked towards his table and I followed.

"At the Fete, you will be expected to demonstrate your abilities to the court. Delegates from varying countries will also be present," he explained.

"Furthermore, the event will serve the purpose of unveiling you in front of the world. You are our symbol of hope and your presence will inspire caution and good faith. Try to keep things diplomatic if questions come your way."

I absorbed his words in silence. He hadn't gotten to the point. Something was missing.

"That is all," he said. I stared at him in bewilderment. He could have told me this during lunch.

"You brought me here just to tell me this?"

He closed in on me and I realised that he had expected me to say exactly that.

"Would you have preferred..something else?”

Fear gripped me then. His words alone had managed to start melting my resolve to be against him.

"Alina." His heated gaze fell on my lips.

My legs started to wobble. My fingers felt an urge to pull him closer-until there was no distance between us at all. My eyes begged me to close them in anticipation. I was in control but barely, my body waiting for my mind to slip and give in to him completely.

His lips brushed mine ever so gently, as though still in contemplation if he wanted this. If he wanted me.

"Stop," I whispered. He leveled his intense gaze with me.

"I won't let you do this to me," I said to him.

With that, I rushed out of the room.

I didn't stop until I had made it to my room. My heart thundered against my ribcage and I wondered if I had angered him. My fingers trembled as they undid my braid to ease themselves. I wanted to go numb entirely and dispel everything I felt, everything he had made me feel.

I paced around the room furiously. This was cruel. I had seen and experienced true cruelty, but nothing compared to the experience of being toyed with. My heart twisted and I imagined it in the palm of his hand.

Any other man and I would have snapped him like a twig.

Why did it have to be him?

Genya entered my room just then, a glimmering necklace in her hand.

Our eyes met-which was enough signal for her to pull me into a wordless embrace. Her hair smelled like roses. My vision dissolved in a blur of tears.

I felt everything and I felt it all at once. It was too much.

Genya stayed with me until twilight. She hummed and arranged the stray strands of hair on my face as I laid on her lap. If I had a sister, I imagined she would have comforted me like this. We said nothing to each other; she only spoke when I had retained some of my wits.

"Any word from the wise, Genya?" I asked weakly.

"Oh yes," she sniffed and glared at me. "Don't you dare cry over men."

My smile brought out hers.

"But then again, the last few months must have been tiring for you, Alina. It's fair to cry over everything you couldn't feel until now." She ran a hand over my hair again.

"It doesn't make you weak," she added.

"I'm sorry I can't fully trust you," I said abruptly. Her golden eyes widened at the admission and then softened into something bittersweet.

"I would be a lot angrier if you did."

A while after she had left, I decided that I wasn’t going to let this ruin my dinner. A good amount of me wanted to hide here for a few days, and the rest of me was determined to resist the urge.

I washed my face, braided my hair and made my way to the domed hall. The topic of my earlier exit had begun to dance on everyone’s lips. The weakness in my legs stiffened with anger.

What did they take me for? Cheap entertainment?

I walked to take my seat; only this time, I didn’t choose to place myself amongst any of the Orders.
Instead, I made my way to the Darkling’s table and took the ebony seat beside his.

A sharp silence fell. Those who dared to open their mouths met my fiercest glare.

When the room remained still, I realised what they were waiting for.

I cut into a piece of salmon and ate it.

The scene regained its original nature, excepting a few lingering stares. I kept my eyes trained on my plate because I knew that if I saw my friends, I might regret the choice I had just made.

This felt a little.. detached. Lonely. On the other hand, this felt empowering too. Was it selfish of me to want friendship and respect? Love? And where love couldn’t flourish, fear?

I studied the etched vines on my knife. What did the Darkling feel when he sat here alone? What had he felt when I was with him?

Not that it mattered, of course. What he felt, he wouldn’t dare show. And what he showed, he regretted almost immediately. Push or pull, my shadowed man would never show himself, let alone give himself to me.

The salmon turned to ash on my tongue. I dared to raise my head to find my friends and immediately stifled a laugh. Ada enacted a dramatic sigh as soon as she had caught my attention. Marie and Nadia were there with her and to my relief, they didn’t look at me any differently than they usually did.

When I rose from my seat, they mirrored my movements. We exchanged smiles as we gravitated towards the entrance. Whatever warmth had left me earlier returned to fill me until my toes.

When Nadia looped her arm in mine, I realised that this was the split between my role and my identity. Each place in this hall carried a unique weight of consequence. I could sit on the darkest chair and be revered if I wished to. I could also skip eating here entirely. It all came down to choice.

“Will you rejoin us tomorrow?,” she asked.

I realised that didn’t want to belong to a single place-As lonely as it was at times, I still wanted to belong everywhere. I flashed a grin at them.

“Obviously.”

The Fete was a few days away now. The Little Palace hummed with anticipation; Grisha hurried from one place to another, carrying materials and a worrying amount of plans and schedules. I studied the proceedings that morning and told Genya that I was glad I wasn’t a Fabrikator.

“They do have it worst,” she agreed. We walked around the gardens until we reached palace entrance.

“But then again, I will have to start dealing with the Queen’s antics alongside the Fabrikators.” She rolled her eyes.

“Soon?”

“Now, actually.” She hustled towards the Grand Palace after giving me a quick hug. I sighed. There went my company. I had practiced enough for the demonstration alongside the other Summoners. David had discussed some of the arrangements with me but when he realised I needed nothing to enhance my abilities, he left me in peace. I viewed the proceedings to memorise the order of demonstrations and left for a bout of idle exploration afterwards.

I walked past a few Grisha carrying yards of satin when I realised that I still didn’t have anything to wear. It worried me and I didn't like that it did. I proceeded to take myself wherever my feet were willing to take me. When I made my way into an empty corridor, a voice interrupted the silence.

“A coin for your thoughts?”

“Surely you can afford more.” I couldn’t bear giving this man the satisfaction of making me smile. He looked every bit a prince and yet, he had made his way to me unnoticed.

Nikolai’s eyes twinkled with a familiar charm.

“You’ll owe me a dance at the Fete, by the way.” He peered down at the busy inner courtyard. “I haven’t been to one in quite a while.”

“I’m surprised you’ve even been to one. Weren’t you young when you left the Grand Palace?," I asked.

“You think something like age would have stopped me?”

I imagined a fox-like boy slipping a glass of champagne out of a drunken noble’s hand.

“Probably not.”

He smiled sagely, then swiftly turned behind a pillar when an Inferni squinted at us from down below. He now leaned against it, a single knee bent for his foot to line the pillar.

“How has life been at the Little Palace?”

I struggled to answer the question.

“It’s been colourful, to say the least.” I wasn’t planning on spilling all my thoughts to this person. He hummed in agreement.

“At any rate, do be carefu-“

“It’s incredibly disingenuous to have powerful men tell you to be careful, as though it isn’t you I shouldn’t be careful of,” I interjected sharply. He chuckled at that.

“Good point. Perhaps you don’t need my protection, after all,” he mused. Is that what he called this? Protection?

“Did you have any friends, you know, before you came here?,” he asked.

I thought about Sturmhond and his crew. I had been blessed with a good number of friends. My mind flickered to an image of Mal.

“Yes.” My voice betrayed a slip of loneliness.

His next question surprised me.

“And if you could run away from this, with them, would you?”

The air had shifted. I watched Nikolai’s careful expression in the shadows. A schemer’s face.

“I run towards my problems, not away from them.” Something prompted me add, “And if my friends are willing to join the fight, the more the merrier.”

Nikolai’s face hosted an unreadable expression. Had I just caught him?

Just then, I saw the Grisha mutter something amongst themselves, straighten their spines and move with a new urgency.

“Your General has returned, I presume.”

Nikolai shifted positions to mask his discomposure. How he had known without peering down was a mystery to me, but he had been right.

“You’re wary of him,” I observed. Nikolai’s ploy concerning me seemed to involve occupying influence like the Darkling has.

“He’s always creeped me out a bit, if I’m being perfectly honest.” A laugh rumbled in the back of my throat. That was natural.

“And yet, you linger.”

“And yet, I linger.” He smiled his scheming smile again and an unshakable feeling of familiarity struck me.

“You’re..” My words trailed. I was so close. I could taste the name on my tongue.

“I’m your friend, Alina.” His eyes begged me to not search any further. For some reason, I obliged.

He slipped his way out of the corridor and I wondered if I knew him at all.

Marie’s excited rambling later that evening gave me a comfort that she was unaware of. It distracted me from the things that were to come. Not thinking about the Fete was impossible and ignoring the variables that could throw themselves at me during the Fete was just as difficult. This was my ‘unveiling’ and if I were being completely honest, the role of ‘Hope-bringer’ was starting to wear me out already.

Ada regarded me with mild concern, but said nothing. Excitement pierced the air with its vibrant energy. The warm hall echoed with cheers and laughter and for the first time, I realised that this was something I wanted to protect.

Marie and Nadia managed to drag me into spectating their sledding. Stars littered the sky and Ada kept a steady fire between her hands to keep warm. Their screams echoed the otherwise sparsely occupied grounds and we shared a smile watching the scene unfold.

“What’s on your mind?” Ada’s warm eyes, brightened by the dancing flame, met mine. I raised a shoulder in a shrug.

“Nothing worth mentioning.” She grinned at that and I could tell what was coming next:

“Your sweet prince isn’t worth any mention? Not even..your dark-?” I slapped a good amount of snow onto her face to stop her from completing her sentence, putting the fire out immediately. 

“What’s going on?” Nadia called from below. She and Marie had started to make their way to us.

“We’re going to make a snowball,” I called back. Ada rolled on the snow with laughter and I figured some more rolling wouldn’t hurt her.

We played in the snow like children and my heart felt lighter than it had in months.

Chapter Text

On the evening of the Fete, the realisation that I still had no dress to wear presented itself in waves of anxiety. It wouldn’t have mattered to Alina Starkov, but it mattered to ‘Alina Starkov the Sun Summoner’-a fact I was not comfortable with.

The corridors were filled with the buzz of Grisha that bustled about, attempting to piece themselves together before the event. I slipped through them to find Marie’s room but an arm in white dragged me back into the dimensions of mine.

“And where do you think you’re going?” I stared at the most beautiful woman in the world and had no interpretable response.

Genya’s flames of hair had been beautifully piled up over her head in an intricate bun. From her ears hung a stunning pair of diamonds, cut to look like teardrops. The dress underneath her cream coloured kefta was silk of the same colour, studded with riverbed pearls.

“You’re a vision, Genya."

“I know,” she said smugly, the expression elegant on her face somehow. “And why haven’t you gotten ready yet? We leave in a while.”

I shrugged. It wasn’t as though I knew what I had to be doing for one of these things. Attending fancy dances and parties weren’t the norm when I had been with Sturmhond’s crew. I almost wished it had been; the idea of storming an opulent gathering with my rowdy friends struck me as a good one.

“And your kefta hasn’t arrived yet, I see,” she noted. I nodded mutely, a weird unsettling feeling reaching the pits of my stomach.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” Genya’s eyes gleamed with her revelation. I settled my face into my palms.

This was ridiculous. I’ve killed people for a living. I couldn’t let the lack of a ball gown do me in like this. 

“Nothing,” I exhaled. “Is going right, Genya. Why is that?”

“Orders are running a little late..it’s nothing to worry about,” she said reassuringly. We waited for a few minutes in silence.

A knock on my door prompted Genya to open it and receive what looked like my kefta-Genya held it in her arm and I could make out the intricacy of its details as she transferred it to mine.

The kefta was of black raw silk with hundreds of small sparkling black beads embroidered onto it. Gold beads of the same size curled outwards into a network of vines. My chain link was now pitch black and embroidery lined the cuffs with black and gold silk threads.

“That’s not all of it, Alina,” Genya said excitedly. I noticed the pile of black silk in her other arm. She laid it out the bed and I sucked in a breath.

It was truly beautiful. The dress boasted a plunging neckline with black pearls sewn into them. The pearls crawled down in vines and transitioned into small golden stars that had been sewn into the position of constellations. The rest of the skirt flared slightly and faded into gold around the hem.

Genya eyed the dress, its intended wearer, and clapped her hands with gusto. Her eyes sparkled when she said,

“Let’s get this on you, shall we?”

“I’ll think of you anytime I hear someone say the world ‘miracle’,” I told her after she had finished her work on me. The girl in the mirror looked..regal. Genya had managed to add a brush of smoke to my eyelids and dots of gold at the corner of my eyes. She clasped a golden necklace onto my neck and I noticed a familiar symbol in its black and gold pendant.

An eclipse.

“You wear what I give you.”

Why did I like this feeling?

My hair fell to my waist in waves. Gold pins that resembled the stars on my dress drew a constellation on the back of my head. My fingers attempted to brush across them but Genya swatted my hand away. She then placed her hand on my shoulder before she said,

"You really look lovely." Her expression shifted when she saw the pendant. She looked back at me, eyes beseeching. 

"Alina, don't give.. I say it again for your sake. Don't give your heart up." Before I could respond, she shifted the conversation.

"Let’s go down, shall we?” Genya’s arm took me across the corridor in a blur. We stopped but only to barge into someone’s room. Needless to say, that someone hadn’t been expecting us. Zoya’s eyes widened when she recognised us standing inside her space.

“What are you doing here?” I noticed a full length mirror in the corner and recognized Genya’s intentions.

“Getting a better look at me, apparently.”

Her blue eyes narrowed but then left mine to look into the mirror on her table as she brushed her hair. Genya looked a little stunned; had I made a friend out of Zoya?

I viewed myself the mirror, admiring my clothes and Genya’s work.

“You’re quite the creature, Alina,” Genya whispered into my ear. I never thought much of my appearance but tonight, I agreed with her assessment.

“Done indulging yet?”, Zoya said while darkening her lashes with antimony. Her gown was a rippling silver and her blue and silver kefta hung on the changing screen.

“We’d never take as long as you, Zoya,” Genya said sweetly. “Come, our work is done here.” She took my arm again and we left the room.

“I didn’t know that the two of you were friends,” she said to me as we headed towards the palace entrance.

“Neither did I,” I confessed. “But I couldn’t be sure of whether her attitude was a friendly one.” Genya shook her head and smirked.

“If she doesn’t bite your head off, that’s being friendly as far as Zoya’s concerned. I had planned to push her out of the room under the guise of the Darkling’s orders, but there was no need.”

I had guessed correctly, then.

A carriage dropped us at entrance of the Grand palace. The grounds were almost unrecognisable; a collection of elegant fairs and carnivals laid themselves across the now vibrant landscape. Acrobats trailed across the grounds and rings of fire lined some of the stalls, all tempting me to ditch the Fete entirely. If I were to criticise anything, it would be the lack of humble chaos that graced the local fairs of Ravka-I missed the experience deeply. The air was warm and I wondered how that was possibly on a wintry night.

When we reached the entrance hall, Genya’s arm loosened from mine.

“The Queen will need me now. I’ll see you during the performance,” she said. I nodded and watched her walk away, creating a divide in the crowd of nobles and merchants as she did.

I searched a crowd of Grisha for familiar faces. Soon enough, Sergei and Ellyott found my side. I had a feeling they had been assigned to me tonight.

“I can’t imagine it’s possible but I wouldn’t put it past you either. Try not to get injured tonight, won’t you?” Sergei flashed a grin.

“Well, it’s more of his job than mine to ensure that, really,” Ellyott shrugged. “But still, it would be my job to stop you.”

I shook my head in exasperation. They were definitely exaggerating. Or not.

The Ball room eclipsed the Throne room in both size and splendour. A sea of nobles and wealthy Ravkans glimmered in their collection of silks, satins and precious stones. Even then, the Grisha scattered amongst them still stood out in their colours-red, blue and purple, like rare jewels on an otherwise plain necklace.

I tried my best to stay unnoticed but all the black on me really gave my presence away.
I passed by at least a few dozen people with smiles and introductions. The experience taught me that there were few things more exhausting than cheerful diplomacy. I made my way behind a pillar in the hopes that its shadow would hide me. When I reached there, I realised that I had lost Ellyott and Sergei somewhere along the way.

My eyes searched for my friends. As much as I wanted to slip by and say hello, my newfound nervousness had my legs quivering like an arrow. I spotted Marie and the lovely silver flower on her hair. She stood by Sergei, exchanging whispers and I realised that she would do a better job holding on to him than I had. Ada and Nadia were with a rather worried-looking Fabrikator-probably one of the demonstration coordinators. I couldn’t make out the look of their gowns from here, but I would make amends and approach them as soon as the demonstrations had ended.

My eyes drifted to the platform on the end of the room. The King and Queen sat adjacent to it on a similar structure. The King looked particularly pleased with the proceedings so far, although I suspected that the drink in his hand had something to do with it. The Queen chattered animatedly with the ladies of her court that hovered around her.

These were the rulers of our country. The country in conflict with its two neighbours.

I felt a pang of guilt when I realised how much I had been relishing my attire. What was the point of all this lavishness when half of Ravka continued to starve and Grisha were being hunted on the other side?

Horror sunk in when I realised how idealistic I had been so far. Ravkans did starve and Grisha were being hunted, but would any of this change with a man like that on the throne? Could I move a single finger to help my people if he did not command it? Or was I being too harsh with my judgement?

A voice broke the flow of my grim thoughts.

“Alina.” I turned take in the Darkling’s surreal features. His kefta of raw silk was a mirror to mine; only where I had gold, he had a glimmering black.

I looked to the platform and realised that the demonstrations had started. My pulse quickened at the realisation that I would have to be up there soon.

“Nervous?” His eyes studied me intently, making me feel more nervous than the demonstration ever could.

I took his hand in mine, his reaction satisfying me immensely.

“Never.”

The crowd parted as we moved towards the platform. I found my position in its centre and the Darkling hovered over me like a shadow.

The crowd murmured in anticipation. I recognised the weight of everyone’s attention, including the King and Queen’s.

The Darkling clapped his hands and a thunderous sound followed. The room had gone completely dark. This was my stage now. I joined my hands to call for sunlight to gather in an orb in front of me. I then split it into dozens of orbs that found themselves hovering over the crowd all the way across the room. They grew in size and then exploded simultaneously into ribbons of light that illuminated the whole room, earning gasps from everyone watching. I had them trail across the walls and floor of the room, turning the light colder and brighter. They finally dissolved into a mist of moonlight.

The crowd rejoiced, the scene familiar to my eyes. I recognized faith in the eyes of many. These people believed that I was going to save them all.

How that made me feel, I couldn’t describe.

"The world will see you now, Alina. Together, we will change everything," my shadow man murmured.

Before I could reply, he had started moving through the crowd. I recognized Ivan by his side. An emptiness settled in when I realised he was gone.

He was the General of the Second Army. He had things to do.

The fact did not ease my heart.

He made me feel close and distant, warm and cold, far too many things for my own good. I hated him. I needed him.

Genya had found me soon enough but not before a certain 'friend' of mine had taken my arm already.

"I'll have that dance now, Alina," Nikolai said as he led me to the centre of the room. Celebration had ensued and a bout of dancing had begun already. A mix between a choir and street musicians played in harmony, their music reverberating through the room with fervour. Some of the eyes in the room shifted towards us and I could only assume the things they had to say in their scandalised whispers.

"Shall we give them a show?", Nikolai asked, his hazel eyes glinting with excitement.

"It'll be a show regardless of what we do," I replied smilingly.

He took my hand in his and I knew that I was in for a spin then.

We moved with a vigour that inspired the pairs around us. Everything around us turned into a vibrant blur of silk and sweat. Nikolai effortlessly carried me across the air and onto the floor, only to repeat the dizzying sequence. My heart raced alongside his. By the way," he said, slowing the pace to start a conversation. “I have news of your man." My eyes widened. Had I gotten a letter?

"Well, what of him?" I said as evenly as possible. He took my arm and twisted me around him elegantly. He was a prince-he probably had enough practice.

"I'll tell you as soon as the dance ends," he breathed. I glared at him as we swayed to the rhythm. Perhaps I would kick his shin for teasing me.

His hand finally left mine and he bowed gracefully. Our surroundings regained form and I realised that we had attracted quite an audience. I tapped my foot on the floor in anticipation.

"Well?"

He guided me towards the pillar I had been hiding behind earlier.

"He's here, probably at the Little palace," he said. My heart stopped.

Mal was here? And Nikolai had brought him here?

When I could gather the words, I said “How did you manage that?"

"I didn't exactly manage it. I just found an interesting situation and twisted it towards your direction." He smiled mysteriously.

I couldn't stop to analyse his words. All I knew was that Mal was here, and Nikolai was somewhat responsible for it.

I knew this man. I knew that I knew him.

"For now, you have my thanks. I’ll figure the rest of you out later,” I told him. He smiled again, as though it were only natural that he had helped me.

“I’ll be looking forward to that, Alina.”

No time to waste. I ran out of the room with no regard for appearance.

Mal was here. And he was at the Little Palace. Was he waiting for me? Did he know he would come here?

Had he missed me?

I clambered up the steps of the Little Place and rushed into its entrance hall, eyes searching wildly for any sign of him. When I reached the domed hall, I recognized a handful of First Army soldiers exit the Darkling's doors.

Mal was here to report something. Had the Darkling known that he would be here tonight?

The questions in my mind stopped when I saw him. Tired, hollowed, and trailing behind the others. His azure eyes scanned the empty hall and settled on mine.

I ran towards him, my heart fully understanding just how much I had missed him. Mal made his way through to receive me, causing my heart to dance with elation.

"Mal!" I jumped into his arms and embraced him. I could hear the rumbling from his chest as he told the other soldiers to head onwards without him. He held me in his steady arms and I relished the warmth that he gave me.

We stole away to a quiet corridor.
"Mal, did you get-"
"I got your letter, yeah," he almost snapped, taking me by surprise. 
"Just the one, though. Have you gotten any of mine?,” he asked.

A sinking feeling that was long due settled in. I was right. I stopped myself from thinking about it, but only because I was a fool. None of my previous letters had reached Mal. They probably hadn’t left the palace to begin with.

"No," I admitted softly. He eyed me with cold concern.

"This place is dangerous, Alina." I watched his weary expression. He was right. And I should have kept it in mind more.

"It is. And I have to stay here until I can change things for the better, Mal." He scowled but his eyes held onto something else.

"Things aren't what they seem, Alina.. I have been spying on Fjerdans at our border up North..West Ravka is in danger." My focus sharpened. Spying?

"In danger of what?"

His grim expression said it all.

"In danger of selling its soul."

Chapter Text

I stood in stunned silence as Mal explained what he had seen. Fjerdans had snaked their way into West Ravka, spreading their influence with the promise of food and resources. This was annexation and it was happening right underneath our noses.

"But the First Army-"

"Has turned a blind eye. We don't understand the depth of this corruption just yet, but it looks like both Fjerdan and Ravkan parties are involved."

That made no sense. And even if that were true, why would Mal be here?

"I'm here because I'm no longer First Army, Alina. We..turned spies on special orders. And that..well I cannot speak of just yet." If it was Nikolai or not, Mal wouldn't tell me.

Mal sat on a nearby staircase and I joined him. This was too much to process. My head found the side of his shoulder and a familiar warmth flooded me. The same warmth left as soon as I felt his shoulder stiffen with discomfort. I shifted away from him, my oldest fear creeping in to greet me again.

"I've missed you, Mal."

"I've missed you too." His voice wasn't nearly as warm as his admission.

"Not just these months.. I've missed you for years..years I know I can't get back." My voice felt estranged from me. This was the painful truth.

Mal's silence was enough of an answer for me. I had been lost to him for years. Why would it matter if I were lost to him now?

"I always knew that it wasn’t enough,” he said slowly. "That it wouldn’t be enough. An orphanage in Keramzin was never where you belonged..you belonged to somewhere greater..something bigger than all of us. You were born different, Alina. They didn’t understand you, they couldn’t and I..”

The agony in his eyes threatened to bring tears to mine.

“If only I had been enough.”

Mal left soon after. He would have to report to someone in the Grand Palace and head to the location of his new posting. He didn't say goodbye.

I went up the flights of stairs and paced through pitch black corridors. There were enough places to flee too in the Little Palace. I tried to control the thoughts as they came, but nothing could have stopped the realisation that slammed into my mind. Letter or no letter, it wouldn't have mattered. Mal and I had been broken and I was solely responsible for it.

I couldn't grieve either. I had made my choice that day and now, I walked a path of my own choosing. It wasn't fair to grieve.

And yet, tears found their way down my cheeks.

I opened the doors to a large balcony. I could see the lights of the Grand Palace from here. If I rejoined the festivities, I could regain some feeling from tonight. I didn't have to be here. The quiet beauty of this place compelled me to linger, though. The marble floor glimmered underneath the moonlight and the shadows stood as a sharp contrast, cutting into the detailed carvings. My spine straightened when I realised that they looked a little too dark tonight.

"I've been searching for you, Alina." I noticed the gaze of my shadowed man, standing at the balcony’s entrance.

Too many emotions stirred and I didn't know which one to act upon. Anger. Longing. Lust. More anger.

"A suprise, considering how eager you were to leave me in the ball room." The voice that left me was acidic.

"I imagine your tracker has told you enough of the situation," he replied coolly. I blocked the thoughts from my mind-I would demand answers when my heart hurt a little less.

"And as for the ball room, I left you in the capable hands of your..friend." His voice chilled at the word friend, the tone tempting me to shiver with pleasure. Jealousy did become him.

“Well, why did you search for me?” I demanded. When I realised I still had tears on my cheeks, I wiped them away furiously. I couldn’t afford to show weakness, although instinct told me that it was far too late for that.

He prowled towards me, grey eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

“Your Prince isn’t the only man you owe a dance to, Alina.”

I tried to calm my heart, but it didn’t work. There was something almost unfathomable about his constant switch between distance and closeness. And now, he was close again. Too close.

“There’s no music.” My voice had turned into to a whisper when he took my hands in his, sending a familiar rush of energy into me. He tilted his chin and looked at me, a ghost of longing in his eyes.

“I assure you that we won’t need it.”

We danced and I realised how right he had been. My dress rippled in the moonlight as we moved across the balcony’s floor in unison. I could hear our footsteps strike against the marbled floor, the rustling of nearby trees and the pounding of my weakened heart. This was music enough to my ears. 

My shadowed man was beyond patient; every move, every touch of his fingers painfully graceful.

“The necklace suits you,” he said before pulling my waist into him in a smooth motion. Our dance had become slower now, far more intimate.

“You know, the faster dances are more popular these days,” I told him.

“Is that so,” he replied absentmindedly. Our pace was entirely unique and I realised that even if we had danced in the music-filled ball room, this wouldn’t have changed a bit.

We danced for a few minutes, each minute an eternity of its own.

He had separated from me now. I studied his expression for something to understand and found nothing. I then felt a surge of familiar frustration.

The pull. His elusive behaviour. Dark promises and delicate ignorance. Both strength and weakness, both mine.

He said that he had felt it as well.

“I don’t understand you," he finally said.

“I don’t understand you either,” I replied stiffly.

I wanted to push him. I wanted to force him to break and tell me exactly how he felt. I wanted him to feel as weak as he made me feel.

We said nothing.

I watched him fight with himself internally. He looked angry, conflicted. Angry about being conflicted. Even angrier that I was there to watch the struggle unfold.

“I can’t take it anymore,” he admitted roughly. My pulse raced at his words. Had he been holding himself back? Away from me? I turned away from him to gather my whirling mess of emotions.

Shadows started to curl around my feet then. His arm found my waist.

“Perhaps we should start.. understanding each other, then.” His breath touched the top of my earlobe. A delightful shiver seized me. I turned to face him and instantly drew a sharp breath. His shadows covered the balcony entirely, engulfing us in complete darkness. I formed a single orb of moonlight between us and watched it paint his face with a pearlescent sheen. My hand reached to caress his cheek, anxious to confirm that he was real. And he was.

“Tell me, Alina, what do I make you feel?”, he asked.

“You make me feel..” His lips caressed my collarbone. My eyes fluttered shut as his arms wrapped around me tightly, crushing my moonlight into slithering ribbons. He carried me in a swift motion, placing me on the balcony’s ledge.

“I make you feel..” he echoed darkly. I could barely take in the words as he kissed the bottom of my jaw. I watched my light run around the curves of his dome of shadows. He kept me right between solid ground and an abyss and yet, I had never felt more secure. His hands started to roam, cold fingers teasing the hemline of my dress.

“Tell me.” A silvery whisper. I shivered beneath his touch. Shadows caressed my exposed thighs, one cold thrill at a time.

“Strong..” A slow heat crawled up my belly. It was true. I had never felt more powerful than when I was with him. A whimper escaped my throat when his hands found where I needed him most.

“Strong and?,” he growled. His patience had run thin.

“Weak”, I murmured against his lips. “So, so weak.”

His mouth claimed mine in an instant. My fingers clung to his kefta and I wondered if touch alone could tell him how long I had been yearning for him. For us, it would. We were connected; we always had been. I felt the weight of his body against mine as I wrapped my legs around him. His shadows continued to dance around us, his power leaking into mine with every breath between our kisses. Our fingers dragged down whatever fabric they could find in the darkness.

He pressed against my entrance and I eager to receive him. When he entered me, I was lost to the world. White. Hot. Numbing, like the birth of the universe. I cried as he thrust against my hips faster.

“Alina.” His voice was now strangled. A moan turned my response incoherent. His lips found mine again. We were on the precipice of bliss. Faster. Rougher. The heat crawled through my body and settled on my core with one sharp blow, shattering me in a billion pieces. He shuddered against me and met the same fate, our bodies colliding one last time.

With whatever energy I had left, I wrapped my arms around him gently, as though he might dissolve into shadow if I were any harsher. I understood our bond then. We were simply meant to happen, to be together. We were a cosmic alignment, a law of nature. Every other detail, every calculated thought faded into obscurity.

“Don’t give your heart up.” Genya’s words echoed.

He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead and a soft sigh left my lips.

Too late.

Chapter Text

Mal's words on the current developments in West Ravka left me in a state of unrest. There were far too many questions and not nearly enough answers.

The First Army in West Ravka already held separatist beliefs. While their allying with the Fjerdans for resources; possibly out of desperation made sense, what didn't make sense was how Ravkan ‘support’ from within Os Alta had reached them. Someone here had struck a deal with the Fjerdans meaning- someone was selling us out and it was worrying to think about what their agreed upon ‘prize’ would be.

The Fold played a part in this, as it did in all international politics concerning Ravka. If I could destroy the Fold and managed it, civil war would break out- and if the odds favoured us, we would regain control of all of Ravka. Countless lives would be lost.

If I couldn't destroy the Fold, the Fjerdans would claim West Ravka for themselves. Existing between a Fjerdan puppet state, Fjerda and Shu Han would be a chokehold that would finish us.

Countless lives would be lost 

There was no winning war, only enduring. And endurance came easy to the ones that pulled the strings from the sidelines. Even when disaster and tragedy ravaged the land, the blood spilt in the process never stained the King’s shoes.

Only his hands.

The options weren't black and white.. I could (a bold hypothetical) still escort the entire Second Army across the Fold. We could fight the long fight to retake all of Ravka.

I sighed. My fingers twisted the pen on my table in a slow rotating motion.

All of this was pointless conjecture. The truth of the situation is that while the King sat on his throne of indecision, there was nothing we could do.

I shuddered to think of it. A Ravkan puppet state. Another altar for Grisha genocide.

How could I sit under gilded domes, eating rich food and playing games while my country was falling apart?

No amount of training would make me feel useful in this place.

"Miss Starkov, do you have anything to add?" The instructor's question brought me back to reality.

Right. Shu diplomacy.

"Inflations in border conflict can be addressed with a call for ceasefire tied with an offer to reopen border negotiations."

"A fair assumption, but the intricacies of Shu policy will show us that while a typical call for ceasefire will be met with a reasonable degree of fairness, the Shu like to circumvent the call by using alternate methods to strike at our borders. In other words, they read the lines and slip between them. When drafting a call for ceasefire or negotiations it is extremely-"

The Shu are slippery bastards. Be careful what you ask of them and what you barter with them.

Why this needed lengthy exposition was beyond me.

"If they occupy our territory, we should get rid of them like we do pests," Sergei drawled, leaning back on his seat.

“A revolutionary idea, Sergei. Why don’t we set Shu Han on fire while we’re at it?” Zoya asked, palms holding up her beautiful face. Laughter scattered across the classroom. Sergei muttered something in Shu under his breath.

“Please,” the instructor said, eyeing them both. She then continued into diplomatic procedure with relevance to Shu Han. I glanced at Zoya noting something down in an elegant scrawl.

She probably didn’t have to be here. Zoya already travelled directly under the Darkling’s orders. This was an attempt to keep her mind sharpened. I wondered if that was partly why she held his favour. I also wondered if that made me feel jealous.

When the instructor had her back turned to open up a few maps, she caught me studying her.

“What do you think you’re looking at?," she hissed.

“A beauty,” I replied. She controlled her  expression but the glint in her deep blue eyes gave her away.

“How do you find this class, Miss Starkov?” The instructor, a Grisha woman in red, asked me as the others trickled out of the room. I noted the few strands of her dark hair that had turned ashen.

“Interesting. Difficult,” I admitted. I had a lot to catch up with.

“The General will be informed that you’ve attended, I’m afraid.” Her lips curved slightly and I smiled back.

“Nothing gets past him, does it?”

She didn’t reply. The answer was obvious.

“I hope to see you again in my classroom, Miss Starkov.” She bowed to me and moved away to collect her belongings.

The truth was that whatever semblance of a ‘schedule’ I had been given had fallen apart almost entirely. Baghra’s training had been my priority but my time with her had come to an end. Everything else I slipped in and out of. I would spend my time training but a certain someone had ensured that I did nothing ‘extreme’ until my ‘condition’ was ‘understood’. Too many quotations for comfort.

I stalked down the halls in search for another class to infiltrate. The reason for the instructors’ lax attitude towards me could be attributed to my black and gold kefta.

“Or its because you look like you would slice them in half if they didn’t let you in,” Ada suggested innocently while taking her seat next to me. This was another military strategy class with a Fjerdan-based module.

“It doesn’t seem to stop you from running your mouth, does it?” I pulled a small twig from her chestnut hair.

“Don’t take it personally, Alina.” She winked at me. “Nothing does.”

Idle thoughts played around my mind as I studied the nails on my fingers. They weren’t nearly as beautiful as Genya’s-but then again, comparing myself with Genya in the beauty department didn’t seem a fruitful pursuit. Even though she had ‘fixed’ my hands, they still looked roughened to me.

And what about the rest of me? Did I really look that terrifying? I wasn’t opposed to it but lately it had occurred to me that I should at least try to act like a lady.

It had nothing to do with him. Nothing at all. I hid my face in my palms.

"This has something to do with him, doesn’t it?”

Ah. That obvious, hm?

“What gave it away?” I peeked through two of my fingers to ask Genya. We were in the library together. I had three books' worth of border conflicts to read up on.

“Semi-permanent blush,” she responded absentmindedly.

“You’re joking.”

“I most certainly am not.”

Oh saints.

“Fix it-please?” She yanked my hands from my face and lowered them onto the table.

“You look beautiful, Alina. Now let’s continue your studying, shall we?”

My muscles were starting to stiffen. I stretched them every now and then but the real cure was out of reach.

“I can’t practice with Botkin and I can’t use my powers either. What am I supposed to be doing?” I grumbled.

“Staying out of trouble,” she replied.

“Decent idea. Will try it out."

She snorted at that.

“Sure. Before you go, though.” She pulled something out of a small linen pouch and placed it in my palm. I raised a brow.

“What’s this?” I was looking at a small cube made of what smelled like crushed herbs.

“A necessity.”

We locked eyes for a few seconds.

Oh.

Saints above and below.

My throat went dry. “Did..Did he tell you to give this to me?”

A ghost of a smile flickered on her face.

I quickly shuffled away from her, placing the cube in my mouth as I did. It tasted like expired rations, except I couldn't place what kind of rations they would be.

Semi-permanent blush be damned.

Today’s list of things to accomplish was a simple one. First, I would talk to Baghra-which was easier said than done but I would try to persist despite her crowing that she had nothing to tell me.

Second, I would collect my swords from the Fabrikator workshop; David had informed me this morning that they were ready.

A small list.

Baghra’s piercing gaze followed my journey across the grounds towards the entrance of her hut. Her eyes narrowed to slits when she noted my appearance.

“Are you his pet now, girl?”

My fingers touched his symbol that hung from my necklace. I met her eyes with a fierce gaze.

“Never.”

We glared at each other for a good minute.

“Good,” she grumbled and turned back into the hut. I followed.

“You have a minute,” she said suddenly. My pulse quickened as I stepped into her furnace of a room.

“You’d think a mentor would be happier to help,” I said accusingly. She always drove me to the edge, keeping me on the outside until I forced my way in.

“You’d think the Sun Summoner wouldn't need to be fed all the answers with a golden spoon."

Annoyance. Anger. I felt them both as I watched her expression turn indignant.

“Tell me about the Darkling.” She cackled at that, a cold, harsh sound.

“Curious about your dark prince? Don’t waste your breath, girl. What you uncover you must uncover alone.”

That made no sense at all. If Baghra disapproved of my closeness to him so greatly, why wouldn’t she help me know his intentions?

“I need to-“

“Your minute has passed. Get out.”

“No it hasn’t," I snapped.

“Well,” she rasped and then took a pause, eyeing my pendant for the second time. “It has now.”

It took everything in me to not kick the door down when she pushed me out and slammed it in my face.

It took me a few minutes of angry pacing to understand that Baghra would have never answered my question regardless of how much charisma I’d used when asking it. She’d given me a list of books and hadn't told me where to find them. She’d listened to my recollections of them and hadn't bothered to correct me. She had known what the volcra were and hadn’t thought to tell me of that either.

If she knew anything about the Darkling, she wouldn’t breathe a word. She’d wait until I stumbled around and found out myself.

And yet, in essence, she had given me what I had needed in order to come to my own conclusions. Perhaps it was the same with the Darkling; maybe I had everything I needed already.

“Tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine.”

Or I would have to start trusting him.

“I think you’ll find this version more suitable,” David called over the rumbling workshop as he guided me to his workspace. On it were dozens of papers, diamonds and two swords sheathed by pitch black scabbards. My brows furrowed immediately at the sight.

“They’re shorter. And the shape..those are-“

“More suitable for your close-combat style," he said while making measurements on a small strip of metal. “I took into account your taste for lunging strikes and spins.. a curved, shorter blade would serve you better.” He stopped himself short out of practiced consideration. I looked down at the swords again.

So. Cutlasses.

I felt an ache for my longswords, despite David’s words making perfect sense to my ears.

My eyes widened when I removed a blade from its scabbard.

“David, is there a reason why its entirely black?”

“Heat retention.” I narrowed my eyes at him. I liked black but in the Little Palace, the colour stood for something rather specific. His reasoning seemed genuine and I let it go.

I eyed the hilt with a curved guard, also black, with thin lines of gold lining its grip.

“The blade is a bit more curved that it would normally be, but that-“

“It’s perfect,” I said. Excitement rushed into my veins. “And if it isn’t, I’ll know where to find you.” A small smile rested on his features.

“Don’t forget these,” he said while taking out a pair of fingerless gloves. Upon closer inspection, I realised that their backs were embedded with impossibly small pieces of flat glass, cut in the shape of diamonds. The gloves themselves were black underneath and the glass betrayed its presence only when I shifted them against the light.

“These are-“

“A little stronger than glass, you’ll find.”

I studied David in silence. He was a barely repressed vessel of creativity. His hands kept fiddling with one thing or another, his lips reciting arguments for and against his own creations, checking for faults, pushing for breakthroughs. Innovation was as natural to him as breathing and in part, it made him terrifying. A mind with no limits was after all, the most dangerous weapon.

I thanked him profusely. The weight of my swords settled comfortably on the sides of my waist; David had weighted them to be exactly the same as my longswords. My fingers twitched in anticipation-I wanted to try it on something. Or someone.

“Wicked blades, Alina.” Ada whistled in appreciation as I reached the Summoners table for lunch. She had already seen them in the Workshop.

We settled into talking about the current happenings at the Little palace. By that, Ada, Marie and Nadia chattered on as I chewed on a piece of bread.

Nadia nudged my shoulder and I realised someone had asked me a question.

“What?”

Marie sighed dramatically at my response, but her eyes regained a determined glint before she asked,

“Alina, you would tell us if you had tumbled a prince, wouldn’t you?” I nearly spat out my drink, followed by raucous laughter from the three.

“Oh yes, absolutely,” I said wearily. I then thought of my shadowed man in the moonlight, his lips on mine. I stopped myself before the thoughts wandered to other things.

Absolutely. Not.

“It took her quite some planning to ask you this question, you know?” Nadia said while shaking her head.

“Call it a healthy dose of caution.” Marie shrugged. “It’s hard to tell when you won’t murder us if we tease you, you know?”

I sent a chilling glare in her direction.

“Oh but you can tell, can’t you, Marie?”

She stumbled over her response and we broke out in laughter.

I decided to pay Botkin a visit in the afternoon. We exchanged greetings and he told me what I would be working with today.

“Today you meditate,” he said. I frowned at the notion. Taking thoughts out of my head was impossible; thinking meant calculating and calculating meant surviving.

Wasn’t as though I was doing very well with the ‘thinking’ part as of late.

Finally, Botkin had found something I was abysmal at. He kept tapping at my spine with a stick when he sensed I had lost focus.

“Don’t think!”

“Know yourself.”

I opened my eyes to the sight of Botkin sitting in front of me. His hardened eyes surveyed mine.

“Know yourself first. Know everything and give up everything.”

A part of me considered pretending to understand his enigmatic words; perhaps they had been lost in translation. I barely knew what to make of knowing myself. There were things, glimpses of moments that I couldn’t bring to the surface of my mind. Things I needed to stay buried. What I carried and what I had to give up-I didn’t know if I wanted to find out.

“Why does my anger.. my bloodlust-“ My question was interrupted by his sharp response.

“Anger makes you weak, brittle. The best warrior has no anger.”

I closed my eyes to that thought.

Botkin approved of my new weapons, although he insisted that I keep my mind sharper than both blades.

He was right. My heart twisted sharply at the realisation-I would have to understand this pain-this block and cure it from the inside. The Darkling's Corporalki conducted their own research, but nothing conclusive had come out so far.

After dinner, I circled around the grounds until I had reached Baghra’s hut. The moonlight was a good companion; I didn't enjoy it as much as the sun, but its presence gave me comfort. I briefly imagined threatening her with my new blades-and then getting blasted to bits by whatever ancient power she wielded.

I heaved a sigh. I would have to figure it out on my own.

I walked down the lamplit path and turned, only to notice that someone had exited her hut in a hurry. What had compelled me to turn was the energy that now permeated the air-that felt far too familiar on my skin.

The Darkling’s face was set in cold fury until he saw me.

“Alina.”

“I see your talk went well,” I mused. He rushed a hand through his dark hair and almost smiled.

“Baghra can be a little difficult sometimes,” he said.

We started to walk down the path.

“Sometimes,” I echoed. He disguised his chuckle with a cough.

“Where are we with..recent developments?” His expression darkened at the change of topic.

“We are still searching for their Ravkan contacts here,” he admitted. “And if the First Army brings the fight here, we could suffer great casualties.”

A stunning admission. Did this man really trust me?

“The Fold." I started to lay out my idea from earlier. “We can reverse the situation if we can send all of our forces across the Fold. If you’d let me escort them across-“

“The risk is phenomenal. We will be outnumbered. There is also the matter of you needing more time.”

“We can still do it.” An argument for argument's sake.

“We are outnumbered,” he nearly snapped.

“We are Grisha,” I snapped back. We had stopped walking now. He looked at me, cold fury returning to his eyes.

“The age of Grisha draws close to its end, Alina. The Fold is a barrier for now. It isolates West Ravka’s turmoil, protecting the rest of the country by default.” My pulse quickened.

“That’s exactly what they want,” I said through my teeth. They expected us to do nothing as they took over West Ravka.

“Our options are painfully limited, Alina,” he said, more composed now.

“We cannot let half the country die.” I paused between each word.

“We will not let our people die,” he said quietly. The distinction did not escape me.

“We will not let Ravkans die,” I returned. Grisha or not, our blood ran the same and would stain the same dirt if we stood by. 

"It isn't decided with 'We', Alina. We serve the King."

That was funny. I couldn't recall pledging my allegiance to that man.

Hunger was a terrible thing. It turned man into animal. Whatever he hungered for; whether it be food, money, or protection, hunger would drive him beyond all limits of reason to acquire it. Hunger invited desperation.

I had experienced firsthand what the hands of desperate men could accomplish.

Fire. And blood.

But did that mean no ordinary Ravkan was worth saving? Could we damn half the country to death and annexation, in a heartless attempt to cut losses?

Could the King sit with drink after drink in hand and have his country bleed for his inaction?

I tried to hide my grimace.

He definitely could.

Loneliness crept in when the Darkling gave me a short bow and parted ways with me.
Insecurity followed shortly. Again, I felt distanced from him, disconnected by our conversation just now. Was the night of the Fete just that? A single night? Was I dancing on my own again?

I walked up to my room, the sound of my own footsteps for company. I had wanted to know him better. Tonight, I had understood that the Darkling valued Grisha more than ordinary Ravkans. It should be no surprise, really; but the implications could become dangerous when war broke out. In fact, they already were.

My fingers loosened my braid and then fastened the buttons at the top of my cotton shift. I had settled on my bed when I heard a soft knock on the door. I crept up to it leaned against it, heart begging to race. At this time of night?

“Alina”, a voice then said, sending a trill of anticipation up my spine. I opened the door and my shadowed man slipped in.

I took a deep breath and met his heated gaze. I knew. I knew and yet, I would still ask.

“Why are you-“

“I think you already know,” he said and kissed me savagely.

Whatever anxiety that had clung to me before melted in his embrace. He pushed me against the door, leaning into me to lock it shut. His hands moved to familiar places, every caress a kiss of its own. My restlessness emerged as I realised I had no patience for his patient exploration, his torture. The force of the pull alone was enough to stop my heart entirely.

“Saints,” I exhaled. Every second was pleasure and agony in equal measure. His eyes glimmered when I said the word.

“Calling on one of your own?” He teased, nipping the top of my ear. My body remembered how to react to his touch perfectly. He grabbed hold of me and I circled his waist with my legs as he moved me to the bed.

“No saints can see what we do in the dark, Alina,” he said as he lowered himself to straddle my waist. He pulled me forward, only to slip my dress from my arms. I tried to cover myself but his hands stopped mine, pinning them to the sides of the mattress.

“Painfully slow, remember?” My cheeks flushed when I realised he was making good on his earlier threat. His shadows had started to crawl down my exposed belly. Being with him stirred the strongest and weakest parts of me-and when I fell in fervour with him, nothing else mattered.

He lowered his lips onto mine and I was lost to his darkness.

My shadowed man laid by my side, reminding me of the fact that he was indeed real, and still in my room. I traced a finger gently over his pale skin, stopping to observe every coil of lean muscle on his body. He was undeniably handsome, yet I found the word beauty more suitable. Beauty was both delicate and dangerous, soft and sharp. It was an intricate balance that my shadowed man held perfectly. When my finger reached to brush over his lips, they curved wickedly.

“Don’t study me all at once,” he said, his voice roughened by sleep.

“I don’t think I can,” I replied. It would take far too long for me to study his beauty in entirety.

“Don’t give up either.” His lips curved again as he propped himself against the bed frame, his raven hair an elegant mess.

The filtered moonlight gave its occupants a dull glow. I smiled with languid satisfaction and sunk my face into the pillow. I felt his fingers comb through my hair but realised when I turned to look at him that they had been tendrils of shadow.

“You owe me your secrets,” I reminded him. 

“You ask with such ease, Alina. I guard my secrets jealously, you know.” His eyes remained closed.

"You said you wouldn't break a promise."

I felt his weight leave the bed and my arm immediately reached the space he had occupied for his warmth that had lingered. 

“I have waited for you for a very long time, Alina. Now, I ask you to wait for me," he said after a few minutes.

I looked up at him from my pillow and noticed that he was fully dressed. What had he meant by that?

“How long?” I asked instead. His expression was unreadable.

“Be mine and I will tell you,” he said as he headed towards the doors. He opened one to check if the corridor was empty. I expected him to slip out, but smiled when he paced back towards me for a final kiss.

“How eager,” I teased. He took my pendant in his fingers and placed a kiss onto it.

“A single secret,” he said. “Will you keep it?”

I nodded.

“I don’t call the shadows when I’m with you.”

I heard the words he didn’t say. When he left for the door, I knew that he wouldn’t turn back again.

I sunk back into my pillow, pulling the sheets over me. This was a dark maze. He was a powerful, dangerous man who wore no trace of his intentions on his face. What he made me feel was beyond my conscious ability to control or predict.

I had a feeling he regarded me in the same light.

“Be mine and I will tell you." I repeated the words to dissect them.

Be his?

My fingers caught the eclipse that laid between my collarbones and my chest tightened.

The meaning was clear now.

He wouldn’t tell me his secrets if I were his. He knew that if I were truly his; if I gave into him completely, none of the secrets would matter.

The worst part? He was probably right.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Golden eyes regarded me with worry. I watched Genya's reflection in my mirror as she tied my hair into a high ponytail.

“Is my hair getting too long?” I asked her. As pampered as they were, Grisha were still soldiers; women weren’t encouraged to grow their hair past their mid-back.

“You’re not like the others, Alina,” she said simply. I frowned.

“It never sounds good when you say it.”

“The truth never does. And don’t change the subject,” she fixed me a lovely glare. “You aren’t even sure if he’s suspicious..you would be confronting a Prince, Alina.”

Today’s plan was a simple one. I would find Nikolai and threaten to kill him. I understood why Genya would object to the notion, but she didn’t know of my reasoning for needing to threaten him. Her expression stiffened as she pondered over something.

“But I do understand..now that I think of it, the Queen seemed pleased with the two of you dancing at the Fete..maybe there are greater machinations lying in wait for you,” she said, pulling strands of hair to frame my face.

The Queen's fascination with akin to a girl's interest in a doll. She relished the tragedy of my existence-and I had no reason not to let her. What she would make of Nikolai's interest in me was within the reaches of my mind-but I wouldn't exhaust myself with those calculations now.

The schemes and their owners would have to wait. When ready, I would present them with one of my own. Botkin’s words of wisdom stayed with me. I refused to succumb to anger; Today, I would simply find the man and get the information I needed from him. Cold, clean.

As we headed down for breakfast, I requested Genya to keep my plans a secret; a test in order to understand the extent to which the Darkling’s strings held onto her. A little cruel, but necessary.

“Don’t tell him of this, Genya.”

Genya looked a bit mollified of my mentioning her allegiance indirectly. We had always skirted around the topic, but the fact graced my consciousness every time I divulged information to her. She bit her lip.

“He’s not here, so."

I had forgotten about that. The Darkling had enough work cut out for him; assembling the First Army troops remaining in East Ravka and securing the borders-while also maintaining his network of spies to collect more information were just a few off the list of things he had to accomplish.

For the record, I was more than willing to help. Sun Summoners weren’t exactly allowed to go on expeditions. The irony of placing their strongest soldier in a guilded cage didn't escape me. I was the weapon saved for their 'once in a lifetime' occasion, a rare wine. 

“How long has the Darkling led the Second Army?”

“A little over a hundred years, I’d say,” Genya said after some thought.

I felt light headed all of sudden. My shadowed man had played this game far longer than I had been alive.

Talk about an unfair advantage.

“The young Prince is rumoured to be an excellent hunter, you know?”, one particularly infatuated Heartrender informed me. She was more than happy to tell me of his rumoured activities. Genya and I exchanged smiles as we exited the domed hall.

“I didn’t expect a Heartrender to be that taken with him, you know,” she whispered as we navigated the crowd. I shrugged. Heartrenders were at the peak of the Order hierarchy-they almost never spoke of non-Grisha endearingly. At least, not out loud.

“He does have charm,” I admitted. She gave me a knowing smile.

“As the current object of his attentions, you ought to know.”

“I’m not sure if that’s what you’d call it,” I wondered out loud. “Either way, I’ll have his attention soon enough.” Genya's eyes widened with warning.

“Alina, you really need to be-“

“Don’t worry about it,” I said reassuringly.

She didn’t look very reassured.

I caught sight of him on the Grand Palace grounds. He was on what looked like the beginning of a hunt. There was enough wooded area bordering between the Little Palace and the Grand Palace for a decent hunting party to entertain themselves with.

I decided to wait for him. If he wasn’t half bad, he’d show up soon enough. I loitered around the grounds freely. The grounds were flooded with sunlight-an odd yet welcome sight in the middle of winter. As a result, no one could see me. I decided to sink into the snow to ice the thoughts out of my head. I could definitely roll over in time before a horse trampled me.

I wasn't confident that I would make that choice if it came to it. Being trampled by a horse was a welcome alternative to the constant stream of thoughts I had to entertain.

Two hours later, I walked across the field to meet his hunting party. A flock of richly dressed nobles flanked him on both sides, all on horseback. Nikolai was in all-white and I appreciated his princely aesthetics from afar. His friends continued on without him and he exited the scene swiftly. I briefly imagined following his friends into the woods.

After all, I did enjoy a good hunt.

I followed him into the stables where he led his horse. He shrugged off the servants posted there to assist him. 

“Ever hunted before, Alina?” He asked the seemingly empty space, his tone nonchalant. I made myself visible and stepped in to face him, brushing off the snow from my kefta. This man knew me for sure. And I knew him. 

“Maybe. Maybe not. I can start right now, if you’d like.”

“Cant have that, Solnyshko.” He flashed a smile. I frowned at the nickname.

“Don’t like the name?” He removed his gloves as I watched on.

Little sun?

Couldn’t say I was fond of it, no.

My grimace was enough of an answer.

“Some things don't change,” he mused to himself. His sagely smile returned to his face and if it weren't for the circumstances, I would have smiled back.

Suspense hung in the air. Nikolai knew he had been cornered; We were pieces on a chessboard; and we had reached the conclusion of our game. 

He placed his rifle and revolvers on a table and turned to face me.

“This is the part where I head back in to change the rest of this,” he gestured to his clothes. “As a gentleman, I’ll have you know that even if you insisted otherwise, I would part ways with you here.” I watched him fasten his sword to his belt.

“You talk too much,” I told him. I moved to the table to study his choice of weapons.
The twin revolvers were an oddly familiar sight; They had pure white handles engraved with gold.

Much like..

“I must say-You’ve lost your edge, Sweetling.”

At first, there was nothing. A minute in, I slowly turned to face him. The revolvers had started to shake in my hands. It took me all but a second to leave them on the table and place my hands on the hilts of my swords.

When the words came, they betrayed none of my emotions.

“Only one way to get it back, Sturmhond.”

He parted his lips but I wouldn’t let him speak another slippery word.

“Draw out your sword,” I said smoothly.

He knew better than to speak.

“Try not to cut my face, Alina. I wouldn't wish to lose my beauty, even for a few bleeding moments."

Or he didn’t.

Every word he had ever said returned to me in order. It made perfect, painful sense. Other things resurfaced, like nostalgia and affection, but they would have to wait. They had to survive my bloodlust first.

I had been so blind. So weak. The eclipse on my neck burned. I ought to have known and yet, he had played me for a fool. Twice.

“Remember when I told you you’d have a lot more to forgive me for? Would be nice if the forgiving started now,” he said sweetly as he drew out his sword.

The absurdity of the situation did not escape me.

We were in a stable. He was a Prince. I was the Sun Summoner. I was going to kick his ass. My fingers removed the chain link that held my kefta, letting it slip to the ground with a soft thud. I drew my swords out. The time to test them had come sooner than I’d expected.

His eyes sparkled with anticipation. He knew there was no avoiding this.

“Bold of you to assume that forgiveness is voluntary,” I snarled before I lunged in.

He parried both my strikes with confidence. With that, it really sunk in.

It really was him.

I struggled against my elation.

I hacked at him and the sound of our blades clashing was enough to push me to continue my advance. I pressed further, pushing him to retreat against the weight of my blows. My cutlasses forced themselves against him, but he broke my assault with a sudden counter, throwing me on my back with a swift kick to my ribs.

When I attempted a recovery, he took the offensive. His practiced hands delivered every blow with his shortsword, giving me no space to straighten my knees. When my back foot sunk into the snow, I understood that we had reached the entrance.

My anger rushed to me to fuel my resistance, but Botkin's words clawed into my heart at the same pace.

Memories of my friend returned to me and this time, I let them.

I made my final stand, attempting to bury my shallow rage. The warmth of the stables looked over us both as we faced off in our new terrain. I felt the heat reach my cheeks and the tips of my fingers.

Nikolai’s face was flushed. His golden hair was in perfect disarray. When he spoke, no humour was laced in his words.

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

‘I’ve missed you too’, I thought as I swung at him. We were a flurry of swords, metal clashing against each other in attempts to catch up with the emotions of their owners.

Instinct prompted me to do something incredibly stupid-I dropped my swords halfway through a spinning strike and landed a right hook onto his face. The impact sent him hurling into the snow.

He got back up but didn’t bother retrieving his sword.

“Even for you, that was crazy,” he exhaled. I flew into his arms and he welcomed me with a hug of his own.

“I preferred you with a broken nose,” I told him. I imagined him grinning at that. He let one arm leave my waist to rake the snow out of his hair.

“You could always change that, although I must admit I prefer my current look,” he told me as we separated.

I noted that his nose-the most improved part of his current appearance, indeed looked like it had taken a swing in the past.

We returned to the stable-this man had some explaining to do.

Sturmhond, who actually had been Nikolai and not an imposter pretending to be a prince, told me that he had returned to watch over me. When I asked him if he had known that I was the Sun Summoner, he snorted.

“My love, swords don’t just glow like that.”

You know what? Maybe there had been some serious oversight on my part.

We continued on as I placed a snow filled cloth against his bruising cheek. A part of me felt liberated, comforted that someone who knew me well was with me now. Sturmhond was an incredibly difficult man to predict, but we were strong friends.

“Where’s everyone else?” I asked him as I dusted my kefta.

“Fjerda.” I turned to gape at him when he said,

“There’s a member we’d like to retrieve.”

My heart warmed. I knew who he was referring to. My blood ran cold when I realised all that would be going on there right now.

“Sturm-“

“Nikolai,” he corrected.

“Gardener,” I said smoothly. It’s not like names meant anything these days. “What did you have to do with Mal and those other men? How much do you know?”

This was one question that couldn’t wait any longer.

“I can’t answer that,” he said. The anger that had started to stir within me slowed when I thought about why that could be.

Black kefta. Eclipse pendant. To a bystander, I was the Darkling's creature. 

“It’s a little complicated,” I finally said.

“I believe you.” His eyes didn’t waver a bit when he said the words.

“But whatever it is, he doesn’t know.” He nodded.

“And the less I know, the safer,” I added tonelessly.

Another nod. I didn’t like it, not one bit.

We walked towards the Little Palace. In all honesty, the amount of things I had experienced so far removed a good amount of my ability to be surprised. I was just tired at this point. Having a Pirate Prince for a friend was just another tiny detail in the turbulent mess that was my life.

“Ever stop to wonder what the hell is going on here?” I asked him. The night sky could afford to look unconcerned by the chaos underneath it, but the rest of us weren’t as lucky.

“Of course I did,” he said slyly. “Why did you think I left?”

“I don’t know,” I teased. “The call of adventure? I don’t really know what ‘calls’ Pirates to become Pirates.”

“I’m a Privateer,” he maintained for the millionth time. I laughed.

“You look like someone you would rob,” I reminded him. If Sturmhond had come by a Prince, he would have definitely fleeced him cold.

The night hadn’t darkened enough for me to miss him wink at me.

“If that’s not aspiration, I don’t want to know what is.”

"You play a dangerous game," I told him when he took my arm- just as we crossed a flock of Fabrikators. They bowed and skittered away, their chattering invigorated by the sight of us.

"Coming from you, the highest of compliments," he said suavely. 

"Besides, I couldn't let your General keep you to himself, can I?" He added, and I could tell that he had meant it.

I thought about how I appeared to Sturmhond; did he think I had been collected by the Darkling? Did rumours of our involvement reach his ears? 

"Why are you doing this?," I asked him. We had walked a decent length into the Little Palace; our association on full display. 

"The reasons are many but my intention is singular, Alina." 

To protect me. Or something equally reckless.

My friend left me at the domed hall's entrance, amongst a host of stunned Grisha. 

“What’s going on with you?” Ada joined me at the bottom on the stairs to the Library. I hadn't made it into the domed hall; enduring the gossip seemed far too arduous.

“Enough to make my head spin,” I admitted. Her grin resurfaced. 

"And your heart flutter?" 

I cursed under my breath.

"Few things about you have impressed me more than your ability to juggle a General and Prince." Her tone was playful.

"I really am the most impressive person I know," I replied wryly.

“Did you know your family?” I asked her, the question surprising us both. I needed a change of topic.

“As much as any other Grisha did, yes,” she replied. “I have a cousin in Arkesk, you know.”

Arkesk. It was hard to imagine what was happening on the other side.

“He’s not Grisha,” she said quietly. I knew what she had meant.

He was safe. For now, at least.

“How much do we know about the situation?” I asked her.

“Only that the First Army wants to control West Ravka..the rest hasn’t been made clear to us,” she admitted. When her hand left mine to pull her hair out of her eyes, I noticed that her fingers trembled.

“Something’s coming, Alina. Something’s coming and I think you know more than you’re letting on,” she said softly.

Something was coming. Sturmhond had returned for my sake; and his lack of faith in the Darkling added a shade of suspicion in my mind. I needed power. 

“If I asked you to put your faith in me,” I looked her in the eye. “Would you?”

Her hand returned to mine and I felt the warmth of an Inferni’s touch.

“I already have.”

Chapter Text

“We must pray, my Lady, for how else will the soul receive enrichment?”

The Apparat sat beside me on the pew. The redeeming quality of his eerie Church was that it was ordinary; a normal corner inside a gilded palace. My fingers counted the beads on the rosary he had given me.

“We are at war. We will need more than prayer to defeat the enemy,” I said. ‘West Ravka’ had recently declared her ‘independence’, now fully caught in a Fjerdan bear trap. Ravkan delegates have scrambled to assess the situation and the court stirs with new conjecture every day-but nothing else could be done unless the King himself willed it.

“The true war, my Lady, is against non-belief.”

The rose incense burned my lungs.

“Believe in me, then. I carry the pain and suffering of the people and it has made me stronger than ever. If-“ I looked straight at him, “the King saw it fit, he would unleash me upon the enemy, so that I may serve my people.”

The Apparat watched me carefully. He then ran a bony finger down his dark beard in contemplation.

As much as I’d love to ignore this terribly disconcerting man, the truth was that I needed to understand where I stood with him and his less-than-ideal religious fervour. The Apparat had direct access to the King’s ear; and he was more or less invested in the Sun Cult’s expansion. It wasn’t beneath me to use the Cult to achieve my own ends; the ends being to retake my country and protect my people. The faith that had once disturbed me greatly, now stood as a tool, a useful one.

At any rate, the Apparat could be my benefactor-and I would prefer it to have him as one. Destroying the Fold was the long term goal; the situation that unravelled before my eyes demanded that I sharpened my blades.

“His Majesty has been...a bit unwell,” he lowered his voice at the last few words. “It will do you good to keep it to yourself, My Lady,” he added quietly.

The King was ill. On top of his indecision, he had the gall to fall sick. Ravka had no leader today.

My legs turned to lead. This changed things.

The next words I spoke held a flame to truer intentions.

“When the time comes..for Ravka’s sake, we must.. borrow his power.” The Apparat’s intense eyes glimmered with approval.

“The burden you bear will grow heavier soon. With the guidance of the Saints above, we shall persevere.”

His parting words stayed with me as I walked out of his church. My heart struggled for composure.

I had made my first move. A real one.

Before I could make a turn, a liveried servant had found me.

“Miss Alina Starkov,” he said as though reciting from a paper. “your presence is required by Crown Prince Vasily.”

A name I hadn’t heard in a while.

The servant led me through two bejewelled doors, stepping aside to introduce me.

My eyes took in the exotic make of the room; hammered gold lined the walls of the room in a series of floral motifs. The marbled floor was covered by a series of bearskins; each of a different colour. An engraved golden eagle spread its wings on the ceiling and a throne; one similar to its parent dominated the centre of the room. No other furniture was in sight.

“Alina Starkov, the Sun Summoner,” the servant announced.

I moved towards the man that sat on the throne.

“Moi Tsetsarevich, it is my honour.” I bowed deeply.

Prince Vasily’s watery eyes glimmered with amusement. Could he tell that I had meant none of it? The man rose and dipped his head in a bow. He took my hand in his and placed a kiss. The action was a nobleman’s practice-but felt perverse because of its current practitioner.

The servant left us and I instinctively wished that he’d return.

“So,” he said, “We have a Sun Summoner.”

So, we have an idiot that states the obvious for dramatic effect.

“I wondered how long it would take to finally speak to you,” he said. “I was starting to wonder if the Darkling had kept you hidden on purpose.”

If he had bothered to frequent the Grand Palace enough, he would have found me at some point. Seeing beyond the heights of his indulgences was quite difficult, I would assume.

“But now I see, yes,” he dragged out, moving to take a turn around me. His gait was close to a stagger-one that suggested that  he had been drinking. My eyes still held his. “What a lovely prize you would make, Alina Starkov.”

I could skin him and turn him into another rug for his room. None of his words could touch me.

“Have you adjusted to life at the Little Palace?”

“I have, Moi Tsetsarevich.”

His eyes slid down my body.

“You have, indeed..” His words dripped like oil into a furnace. His pacing came to an end when he offered his hand to me.

“Please, let us take a turn about the Palace.”

I took his arm and we left the room. Relief rolled with the cool breeze in the corridor; being alone in a room with this man was far too great a test of my patience.

“Tell me, Alina, how is my little brother faring these days?”

For all his pretend-politeness, his weighted question didn’t surprise me.

“I’ve learned that he’s a keen hunter.”

Prince Vasily’s grip on me tightened ever so slightly.

“And is it you that he’s hunting? You must pardon my crudeness, Alina. I am merely..intrigued.”

“I will consider your apology, Moi Tsetsarevich,” I replied stiffly. We turned into a marbled terrace and I wondered what would happen if he fell out of it. As an accident, of course.

“I am humbled,” he said unconvincingly.

We stared out at the expanse of snow that covered the once verdant grounds. The sight of the Little Palace in the distance brought me a curious sense of comfort. Had I truly warmed to this place?

“Where are you from?” he asked. I kept my gaze ahead of me.

“Keramzin,” I said.

“How quaint.” In his reaction, he bore a strong resemblance to his mother. He probably knew these things about me; everyone did.

“For an orphan from Keramzin, you’re quite adept with navigating this..maze.” I caught the glint in his eye.

“And your powers are exemplary,” he added.

Ah. Nikolai’s association with me worried him. And he had planned to do something about it.

“I would be pleased to make your..acquaintance.”

He wanted me.

I wish I had half his arrogance.

“Moi Tsetsarevich, you might find it more prudent to focus your attentions elsewhere. I am but a peasant girl.” I wore humility on my smile.

He straightened at this.

“You really are the Ravkan dream-here to save us all,” he remarked. He gestured to his guard to escort me back to the entrance.

He bent down and I could smell the vodka on his breath when he said, “When you step into the Grand Palace, do think of me, Alina.”

To think that such scum would sit on the Ravkan throne one day-I suppressed the chill in my bones.

Perhaps he would. Perhaps he wouldn't.

Post-lunch, I made my way to the Pavilions. The Darkling had allowed for me to train starting today-with the condition that I take one of his men with me.

“So, how does it feel landing the worst gig on the planet?” I asked the man.

Ellyott’s eyes wrinkled.

“I might ask the Darkling for an amplifier when I’m done with this job,” he said jokingly.

The Darkling’s favourites received amplifiers for their loyalty. Baghra’s influence had set me against the concept of amplifiers, but a part of me did wonder how it would feel to carry one.

My energy danced in my blood restlessly. It had been far too long. When we reached the end, Ellyott slowed his pace. He would stand back to monitor my condition; and not get melted in the process.

I stood over my training spot and realised how slowly Winter moved across Ravka. The same blanket of snow and the same bleak sky stood below and above me. The lake showed signs of life; its ice had started to crack open, exposing the dark water underneath it.

I was getting a little tired of winter.

“Close your eyes!” I called out to Ellyott.

“Nothing extreme!” he yelled back.

Too late for that.

I clapped my hands and this time, my light had some ideas of its own.

Ellyott and I shared a piece of break on my break; he had skipped breakfast and was kind enough to share. We were seated on one of the blocks of stone that stood in the area. He had a notebook on his lap, a small pot of ink sitting on its cover.

“So much for having me watch over you.” His voice was muffled by the bread. He swallowed it with a quick gulp and added,
“I am happy to see some grass again, though.”

I shrugged. The landscape seemed to welcome the changes I had introduced. The air held a thin layer of mist that tickled my skin. Flattened grass and mud stretched over the place, split by large pools of water. The lake had been restored to its original state; the dark water thrashed around, having been awoken completely.

“I didn’t sense any discomfort from you,” he remarked. I shrugged; the condition of my heart was something I could neither understand nor control. It hung over me like a curse; threatening to stand in the way of everything I worked towards.

“What are you writing?” I peered into his notebook and he closed it shut immediately. When I raised a brow, he huffed a short laugh, ears reddening.

“My handwriting is embarrassingly bad,” he muttered.

Ellyott left me after a quick bow; he would have to write a report on my progress and his estimation of my current condition.

I sat on the steps of the previously unused Pavilion. A few cracks had run through the white stone; allowing moss to crawl through them. The air was damp with the smell of the grass I had woken up.

This felt like another pit stop; another crevice of nature I would hide inside when I had nowhere else to go. The nostalgia was unsettling but I accepted it anyway. It wouldn’t take long for the trees to start chirping and the undergrowth to take the reigns again.

I changed so often I could barely recognise myself. I had started as an orphan from Keramzin. I had stumbled from orphan to recluse, crawled from recluse to nomad, run from nomad to traveller and faltered from traveler to mercenary. And here I was now, burdened by a purpose that preceded me and the expectations of millions. I had regretted not coming here sooner; and now?

My fingers trailed over one of the cracks.

The leap from mercenary to saviour was impossible. I ached for my people but the fact remained that I couldn't be a saint; I couldn't be a hero.

What I could be was something else entirely, and I would no longer deny myself the opportunity.

“Alina!”

I watched Ada and Nadia approach me from a distance. I rose to meet them halfway.

“Good of you to find me,” I greeted them with a smile.

“Well, Zoya had insisted someone inform you to stop changing the weather,” Ada quipped. We started towards the neighbouring pavilions, exchanging laments about Marie’s recent fight with Sergei.

The Summoners trained with a new seriousness. The usual chatter had sunken into anxious muttering; with Grisha huddling around to discuss the latest news. The West Ravkan developments pushed most Grisha to expect deployment at any moment’s notice.

Suddenly, our conversation had soured. The heavy atmosphere that weighed on my chest had started to impact my companions.

“I could use a cup of tea,” Nadia said blandly. Ada and I nodded.

Soon enough, we managed to acquire three cups of tea. We stayed silent to the backdrop of sparring Summoners and watched the lake ahead of us.

“I’ve never seen war before,” Ada admitted. Nadia shrugged, resting her cup on the saucer.

“If it came to it, I’m not entirely sure that I could kill someone,” she said. “There’s something..it breaks something important in you, I think.”

“How would you know?” They both looked at me. A bitter aftertaste lingered on my tongue. I was the killer, even amongst two soldiers.

“You haven’t killed a soul. How would you know that it could cost you?,” I asked. Nadia held my gaze.

“I just do,” she declared. I turned away.

She was right.

We settled into silence again, until a gust of wind sent the teacup out of Nadia’s hand flying.

“I’m so sorry,” Zoya said sweetly. She approached us and I registered the impact of her presence as she closed in. Nadia’s back straightened. Zoya held influence over all the Squallers-and she was one.

“It would help you to know that we could be thrust into the battlefield at any moment,” she said coolly. “We don’t get to sit around here sipping tea,” she gave me a nasty look, “and flirt all day.”

Again. I didn’t know why she disliked me so much.

“I’m sure your contributions to the war will be several, Zoya,” I said evenly. She smirked at this.

“I’ve been travelling with the Darkling; my contributions have begun already.”

“You must have worked hard,” Ada drawled. “Why don’t you relax with a cup of tea?”

I could see the mischief in her eyes. She was trying to goad Zoya into a fight. It occurred to me then that if Zoya were here, it meant that the Darkling had returned.

I needed to see him. The pull threatened to drag me in his direction if I didn’t start moving myself.

“Do you know what they call you?” Zoya’s eyes shone with spite. She just had to have this.

“Not a clue.”

I guess even Zoya had her limits; she refused to say any of the words on her mind.

“You disgrace us all,” she said curtly. “You disgraced us by running away from your duty, you disgraced us by breaking our rules and you continue to disgrace us with your filthy associations.”

I couldn’t decide if I wanted the words to hurt or not. My focus was completely elsewhere.

I started to walk away.

“I think I’ll tell you anyway, Alina. About that name of yours.”

I felt a chill settle in my heart. I turned back to face her.

“Pray tell.”

“The Whore of the Little Palace.”

Something was pushing Zoya today and I didn’t know what; normally, she wouldn’t stoop this low. Normally, she would know what I could do to her. Something was wrong and if I struck back, if I retaliated, I would be playing into her hands.

I took a deep breath.

“Does have a certain ring to it, don’t you think?” I asked Ada.

“Definitely,” Ada said, sporting a supportive grin.

“We’re all in agreement, then.” Nadia looked a little terrified, but relaxed when Ada’s arm found her shoulder.

Zoya’s nostrils flared.

“It goes perfectly with Genya’s title,” she spat. The air shifted then and my friends' expressions mirrored the change.

Title?

I parted my lips to question her but Ada intervened, shooting me a warning look.

“You should go, Alina.”

Why?

Her eyes pleaded with mine.

I turned away and this time, Zoya didn’t stop me.

The entirety of that interaction felt strange on my tongue. When I paced into the domed hall, the delayed effect of Zoya’s words had reached me in full. It was true that I had stayed away and that I broke rules. As for my associations; well, Nikolai was my friend. He was only trying to watch over me.

As for the Darkling, nobody could understand what stood between us.

What stuck with me was her final words-something to do with Genya. Ada had made me leave-I had trusted her judgement in the moment, but her actions invited suspicion. I would ask Genya about it later.

I stepped into the War Room to see the Darkling and Ivan, my favourite Heartrender.

The Darkling’s head raised momentarily to watch me approach him. He then returned to marking placements on a map. Ivan bowed to me stiffly.

“Haven’t seen you around in quite a while, Ivan.” I leaned forward to watch his work. Ivan smiled like I had held him at gunpoint-and then went back to ignoring me.

“He isn’t the talking type, you know,” the Darkling said, moving a cerulean coin onto the map.

“Oh trust me,” I said, recalling all our interactions so far. “I know.”

Ivan seemed mollified by my addressing his General so casually, but responded with silence-which was delightfully typical of him.

My eyes drifted back to the map on the table. The coins seemed to cover the Ravkan coastline.

“What do they represent?”

“Locations where the Fjerdans transport rations.”

The Fjerdans had started making their move into West Ravka. The port cities were important points of contact but I knew that they had their ways through the permafrost as well.

“Why haven’t you placed a coin north of Chernast?” I asked him. He almost raised a brow.

“Transporting anything through the Permafrost wont be viable for the Fjerdans. They prefer to sail to reach our port cities instead.”

I thought of the paths in the permafrost; and how Drüskelle had made their way through it effortlessly. This I had seen with my own eyes.

“There’s a good chance they’re transporting something through there. I’ve seen Drüskelle slip their way through the place with ease.”

When the Darkling raised his head to look at me, I could tell that he was thinking about just how much I knew that he himself didn’t know. It probably wasn’t much-but I wouldn’t surrender the upper hand just like that.

“We shall look into it, then,” he said.

After Ivan had left, my shadowed man gave me a small smile.

“I didn’t know you’d take an interest in military strategy, Alina.”

My response couldn’t leave my mouth; he had started kissing me by then. My hands immediately found themselves tangled in his hair, heart completely swept away. I pulled away when I heard the sound of footsteps pace outside the room.

“You know, I did come here for an actual reason,” I told him after taking a breath.

“This does make for a reason,” he said, closing the gap I had made to place kisses on my jaw. His hand slid underneath my tunic and it took every once of self control I had to speak instead of moaning something unintelligible.

“I wanted to know-“ Another searing kiss. I blushed furiously, pushing myself away from him again.

“The War,” I managed to get out. This stopped his fervent assault on my senses.

His brows furrowed, eyes surveying me for intent.

“Alina, in this circumstance, I cannot move my soldiers without the King’s approval”

“He’s useless,” I spat. “West Ravka slips between our fingers and here we are, stagnating in indecision.”

Insulting the King could have me killed, but my anger invited its own brand of crudeness. It bubbled within me, allowing my tongue to override my sense of discretion.

“It isn’t that simple, Alina,” he said, sounding every bit the hardened General that he was.

“I know.”

“Won’t you trust me?”

Yes. No. Either way, what a card to play against me.

“I’m not a gun you can point in the direction of the Fold. I cannot be kept here to warm your lake and melt your snow. You can’t keep me away from this, General.” I fixed him a defiant look.

“You know I don’t like it when you call me that,” he said with an edge in his voice.

“You know I don’t like it when you deflect,” I responded with the same tone.

He ran a hand through his ink black hair and I silently admired the way it fell to brush his forehead.

“Alina, we are all slaves to the King’s wishes. As much as we’d like to speak of taking action, the truth is that without the King’s command, I cannot move my forces into West Ravka.”

The idea made my blood boil.

The next words flew out of my mouth, with no regard for consequences.

“I wonder why I’m still here, then.”

“Careful what leaves your tongue, Sun Summoner.” His eyes darkened with anger. I felt the shadows on my ankles, but I wouldn’t look down. I wouldn’t give him that.

“You’re the General of the Second Army-in the King’s service,” I reminded him. “I’m not bound to an oath like you are.”

I wouldn't be held back the same way he was. 

“You would leave, then?” His eyes and voice-both were the coldest steel. I knew then that I was on thin ice.

“To save my country? Yes.” My voice threatened to falter.

He closed the gap between us and my courage abandoned me.

“You would leave me?” A softer, more dangerous question.

Never.

My heart ached with recognition, drinking in the chilling rage that pulsated in the air. The shadows had coiled around my body, ending at a thin vine around my neck.

“Perhaps I’ve let you get carried away with yourself, Alina.” I felt the vine around my neck coil slowly, pushing against my flesh. My shadowed man was now closer than ever; watching, waiting for my reactions to unfold. Blood rushed to my head and in his beauty, I felt his derangement too.

His cheek brushed against mine and my hand shot to hold his neck as the shadows tightened. My nails dug into his flesh, thumb pressing against his throat and satisfaction rushed into my veins when I felt him stiffen against me slightly.

“Has playing with your oktazat'sya prince dulled your senses? Have you forgotten,” He placed his lips on the curve of my neck, “the things I can do to you?”

I felt myself heat with every word; my body suddenly mellow, suddenly pliable under the touch of his shadows. The power he emanated was intoxicating; pulling on every bone in my body that now ached for him.

“Look at me” he commanded. I took in his pitiless gaze.

“We are eternal, Alina. There is no one but us. There is no one for you but me and tonight, I will make you understand.”

Chapter Text

“Alina?”

I snapped up to see Ada’s face, marked by concern.

“Yes?”

“I just told you that I was secretly a volcra, and you nodded in agreement.”

Ah. I struggled against the warmth reaching my cheeks, avoiding her gaze. I could barely lift a finger without thinking of the previous night, let alone think straight. It was as though all of the domed hall was nothing short of a skilful illusion, and that my back still laid on his silken sheets, the ghost of his finger trailing my inner thigh. The hollow breath of his whispers still pressed against my skin-I pinched my arm to stop thinking of him further.

“What can I say? I trust you, so if you say that you’re a-“

She harrumphed at my response. Marie, who was sitting to my left, gave me a quick smile.

“There’s an opera tonight. You should come,” she said, twirling a lock of hair with her finger.

Weren’t we at war?

“I don’t think I can tolerate such..aristocratic pursuits,” I mumbled. Ada let me lean onto her shoulder and I felt the movement of her arm taking a spoonful of oats to her mouth.

“You’d think a Prince was an aristocratic pursuit."

“Shut up.”

The stalemate inside Ravka had eased tensions amongst the people, which I didn't like. The silence before an explosion was, after all, the most deafening. Rumours were now being spread with a new zeal, information being exchanged about possible outcomes of negotiation; all these words danced on their tongues, and I couldn't blame them for it. What else could a soldier do, if left without orders? A puppet with no strings pulled?

Stand still and watch. And hope no one you know is dead.

When Ada and I were alone, I seized the moment to settle what had happened at the lake.

“Back then, at the lake,” I started. The look on her face was weary but unsurprised. “Zoya said that Genya had a title, something she was known as.” She drew a deep breath.

“I know that you want to protect her." Her voice was now sympathetic. 

And what did that have to do with anything?

“I do. And I need to know what they call her.”

"Alina, certain things are beyond our control. Genya’s life at the Grand Palace is subject to.. discussion amongst the Grisha here. She hides it well, but she knows it too.”

“Answer my question."

A moment passed.

“They call her the Whore of the Grand Palace,” she said quietly.

My back straightened itself in response. It was a terrible, cruel name..and still, I couldn’t understand why Ada had tried to hide it from me yesterday. Had she been afraid that I would have hurt Zoya?

Would I have?

“Where is Genya now?”

“With the Queen, probably.”

That wasn’t good enough. Something felt out of place, and I couldn't put my finger on what. I was going to find her myself, try to sort things out.

“You can’t go now." I raised a challenging brow.

“We have an examination today.” An 'examination'- Had the information slipped my mind?

“It’s a yearly session conducted by the Corporalki,” she explained. “They assess our condition and examine us for weaknesses.”

How very fun of them to do so. But even then, seeing Genya was an idea that still weighed on my mind.

“Of all people, you can’t miss this.”

Fine.
 
The Corporalki were, to put it lightly, a proud Order. Their arrogance slipped from them like the softest silk on skin, and I was glad to be friends with the few exceptions. A single look from the ones that weren't would tell you that they saw you as lesser than. If forced to speak the truth and only the truth, they would confess that they thought themselves superior to me as I was an Etherealki, a member of an 'inferior' order. It probably wouldn't require any force; from the way a few Heartrenders had eyed me as I walked past, I could tell that they looked happy enough to share the sentiment with me, free of cost.

Wonder what they made of their General.

The training room was a vast hall, inlaid completely with white tiles. There were no windows; only the skylight gaping from above, painting the room a shade whiter than it ought to be. Their tables reminded me of the ones in the Fabrikator Workshop, only where they had coal, corecloth and diamonds, the Corporalki had mannequins, split into subsections with models of organs that one could assemble and take apart. I imagined taking things apart was important knowledge to them, and then suppressed a shudder at my violent imagination.

"You may have to go first," Marie told me while searching the room for her enemy-turned lover. I saw the smile bloom on her face and knew then that she had found him.
Even for something as mundane as a health examination, Order hierarchy was maintained. The idea felt too simple, too crude to me. I then realised that for all its lavishness, this was still the Second Army. The hierarchy was their backbone. 
Ellyott's arm found mine and I considered telling him that he ought to exercise a bit more caution before touching people. We walked past the Summoners lined at the tables, pairs of Healers and Heartrenders standing before them with registers in hand.

The room we found ourselves in was empty, our footsteps now echoing on the marble floor.

"I'm starting to think that I might be a bit privileged," I said dryly. The corner of his mouth curved.

"Just a bit."

He had me seated on the counter table and stood to face me after placing his notebook beside me. 
 
“Listen to me, Alina.” Whatever the sound that left his throat had been like, his voice was now hypnotic, settling on the beating of my heart with a strange peace. “I will gauge the condition of your heart and your mind. It’s nothing for you to be afraid of, and the examination will end in less than a minute. Close your eyes.”
 
I followed his instruction.
 
I felt his hand take mine, placing it on my thigh. His thumb brushed over my wrist and my heart started to slow in response. His ability rugged at the heartstrings, warming my blood, and my shoulders relaxed in response.
 
The gentle tugging was now an invisible hand, curling its fingers around my heart. The sensation was..pleasant. Dirty. Someone was seeing my heart, and I wanted them to stop. My eyes tried to open when I could feel the tips of the hand’s nails dig into the flesh slowly, pulling outward, but they refused. I tried to move, and I couldn’t. 
 
Every part of my body I had lost control of weighed heavily and went cold, as though covered with a blanket of snow. If there had been a warning, it was now too late to receive it.
 
“Ellyott,” I tried to say. 
 
No use. 
 
The ache, my weakness returned to stab me squarely in my heart, enough to elicit a scream. Panic tried to rise, telling me to step away from this man, but Ellyott didn’t let it. I was a doll in his hands, and he had started sticking his pins into me.
 
This hand continued to pull, now attempting to drag my heart right out of my chest. The pain rose and lessened, as though it had lungs of its own. Everything instinct my body demanded to feel was stripped away, leaving its host bare. 
 
Something was wrong. 
 
Could a single minute feel like this?
 
Something stirred within me then, something that didn’t belong. It boiled in my blood now, fighting, pushing to break through and slice this man's throat.
 
“Are you alright, Alina?” 
 
What?
 
“It is a bit unnerving to be tested by a Heartrender, but I imagined you wouldn’t have such an aversion to me.” He laughed gently. 
 
I didn’t understand.
 
“You can open your eyes now,” he said. 
 
The room had returned to me, blinding white now subsiding, revealing itself and the man standing in front of me.
 
When I could finally open my mouth, my voice was hoarse.
 
“I feel..” 
 
Tired. Heavy. 
 
“I know,” he said, sounding apologetic for the first time. “We recommend resting for a while before resuming your daily activities.”
 
I tried to kick my legs off of the counter, but my body refused to obey. Ellyott’s arms had taken me in by then, his arm looping underneath mine to help me stand. 
 
“Sorry about that, Alina. I’ll have you rest now, and Sergei will come to take a look at you in a few minutes.” 
 
It didn’t matter that I couldn’t respond. My body would continue to disobey me for at least a while. I let Ellyott guide me to the nearest bed, my body completely stiff. The thoughts fell into my mind, swirling like a storm at sea. They lashed against each other and then subsided, devolving to a placid lake, filled with darkness. A single instinct remained.
 
I didn’t want to be here at all. I wanted to be with him. I had to be with him.
 
Why wasn’t he here?

“You gave us quite a scare, you know?” 
 
Genya sat on the corner of my bed, eyes trained on her nails. 
 
“I’m hungry,” I said, trying to roll into the centre of the bed. The sheets brushed against my bare legs and I realised that I had been changed into a nightdress.
 
“Tell me it’s you that put me in this dress.”
 
“It was.”
 
My body relaxed and moved against the silken sheets again, enjoying the way it rustled against my skin. 
 
Silken sheets. 
 
I opened my eyes to the dark contours of the room.
 
“Genya, are we in-“
 
“Yes.” 
 
Fantastic. I didn’t even have a window to jump out of in embarrassment. 
 
Glimpses from the examination returned to me, and my anger reclaimed itself. 
 
“What did he do to me?”
 
“He did to you what he does to everyone, Alina. Even as a servant, I am still subjected to the examination. It’s terribly uncomfortable and painful at times, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Either way, I happened to be nearby."

That was interesting; Ada had claimed differently this morning. I closed my eyes.
 
“But if that were the case, why couldn’t I continue? Why had I..” Why had I fainted?
 
“The younger ones tend to collapse at first,” she explained. “Since they aren’t used to it. The others have had some experience, but that was your first time.”
 
Shame washed over me. I had been so weak that I couldn’t survive a wellness check. What did everyone make of that? What would he have to say about it?
 
“It’s not your fault.” Her voice was gentle. 
 
“Genya,” I said suddenly. The look on her face was one of recognition. 
 
“I didn’t want you to worry.” Her voice was quiet.
 
“You didn’t want me to kill someone.”
 
“That too,” she added wryly. 
 
The anger sharpened into spikes, threatening to tear at my skin from the inside. A single name uttered from her lips. A name, and I would give Genya what she deserved; blood, skin and bones. 
 
“Don’t-“
 
“I won’t ask you,” I exhaled. "It's yours to tell, yours to keep forever. I won’t resent you for keeping it from me.” Genya had every right to deal with this the way she saw fit; I would only receive his name if she wanted me to receive it. The idea felt bitter on my tongue, but the right ones often did.
 
She looked at me, and I could see the words she didn’t say. 
 
Thank you. 
 

“Your tray has gone cold.” 
 
“Along with my appetite,” I replied. I then sunk my face into the pillow, unwilling to move my head to greet my company. I hadn't overcome my earlier embarrassment for fainting earlier.  My traitorous heart urged me to crawl into his arms, my body flushed already. 
 
“Moody girl,” he said endearingly. I felt his weight settle on the bed, his hand moving across my waist only to flip me over in a smooth motion. I summoned a small light to hover above us, hands moving to adjust my hair soon after. 
 
He pulled me close against his chest and I could smell the scent of damp pinewood on his kefta. Had he travelled somewhere today? My fingers tried to unbutton the garment, but his hand stopped them. 
 
“So this you still have an appetite for,” he murmured. 
 
Appetite. Instinct. 
 
“Closer,” I mumbled. His arm returned to drape around my body, fingers pushing up the fabric of my dress gently. I ached in familiar places, all in anticipation of his touch. His lips brushed my forehead with a gentle kiss. 
 
But that wasn’t enough for me. My hand now cupped his cheek, and before I could move any closer, his hand stopped mine. Again. 
 
“First, you eat.”
 
I blushed. This wily man. 
  
“Is this a bargain, General?” He nipped the top of my ear for calling him that, earning a giggle from me. 
 
“Maybe,” he mused. I sat upright and he handed me the tray. The light above us sunk a little, for the sake of my food. His face was lit like marble underneath gentle streams of sunlight, and my eyes decided that staring at my food was the safest course of action. 
 
Pickled herring? 
 
“You don’t like it?” 
 
“Name one person alive that likes it.” A necessary exaggeration.

“I can have them bring you a different tray,” he said. I shook my head at that. 
 
“And waste food? I don’t think so.” I still searched the tray to start with something more comforting, placing it flat on my thighs. 
My fingers opened the porcelain bowl adjacent to the herring. 
 
Oh!
 
“I think I’m onto your schemes,” I told him as I bit into a sugar plum. I imagined he smiled at that.
 
“I should be afraid, then.” 
 
“Take one.” I offered the bowl to him and he declined politely. Perhaps he didn’t like sweet things. 
 
I ate in silence and couldn’t mask my grimace when I forced the herring down my throat. The rest of the plums were my saving grace, leaving a sweet aftertaste on my tongue. 
 
I placed the tray on the adjacent table gingerly. The air swelled with anticipation. 
 
It wasn’t as though I could just walk back to my room. He had intended for me to stay here. 
 
“Move over,” I told him. Mild amusement played on his face and he obliged, moving much farther than I had expected him to. 
 
I reached my side of the bed pulled the covers over my body. I felt his eyes survey me in silence.
 
“You’re leaving,” I said. He had made no effort to change his clothes. 
 
“You ought to know that the nature of my work is demanding, Alina.”
 
I ought to. And still, I wanted to be just as important, if not more. 
 
My eyes widened when I noticed his kefta dissolving into shadow. 
 
“You’re-“ 
 
“I’ll return to you soon.”
 
He met my glare with a small smile. He then closed the space between us and kissed my mouth, hard. 
 
“Perhaps I will indulge in those plums later,” he told me before disappearing entirely into smoke. My light struck through it, clearing away the haze of shadows. 
 
I was dizzy with emotion, then furious at the man who had left me in this state. 
 
He’d return soon? 
 
Well, I wasn’t going to wait. 
 
The look on Genya’s face when she saw mine was one of pleasant surprise. 
 
“I thought you had decided on lingering,” she said.
 
“You thought wrong.” 
 
We leaned against one of the pillars in the inner courtyard, watching an Alkemi tend to one of the garden plants. The place was warmer than it ought to be; the plants wilder, freer than the ones in the Grand Palace. Creepers ran across the stone floor and exotic blooms stood out amongst the greenery, as bright as overripe fruit. 
 
“Why aren’t you with the Queen?” 
 
She smiled. “The Darkling bought me a day off for the evaluation.” I couldn’t smile at that; after all, he could have bought all her days off by not placing her in the Queen’s manicured hands. 
 
In that cage filled with predators.
 
Genya read my thoughts cleanly. She took my arm and said, “Let’s do something nice for a change.” I watched her expression turn almost pleading. 
 
He would have to answer for this too.
 
I let the thought go, but its darkness lingered.
 
I realised Genya’s intentions when we had reached the entrance of a cream coloured building, flowering vines crawling all over the facade. The warmth it emanated reminded me of the garden from earlier.
 
“Are we allowed inside?” She nodded and we stepped through the doors. We moved past multiple classrooms, searching for the sound of laughter. Soon enough, we came across it-echoes of tiny shouts and happy rebellion. 
 
“Shall we?” 
 
The instructor had caught sight of us hovering at the entrance and bowed immediately; an action we returned. 
 
“Miss Starkov, is it not? Please, come in.” I noted that she hadn’t addressed Genya. 
 
The children in the room could barely restrain their excitement. I noticed their colours; all red, no embroidery to distinguish what type of Corporalki they were. I studied the board, filled with simplified anatomy drawings.
 
And here I was, thinking they’d teach the children types of flowers. 
 
The instructor, a middle-aged Heartrender scolded a few children for trying to approach us, after which they returned to their seats, sulking. I could feel their anticipation pulling, eyes brimming with curiosity, asking me to approach them instead. The feeling was tangible, like the blood in my body had recognised their request, now asking me to move towards them. Genya’s wrist held mine and I regained focus. 
 
Teaching a classroom of Corporalki children, not quite capable of restraining their abilities yet. 
 
Talk about terrifying. 
 
“Please, feel free to observe,” the instructor said kindly. I had a feeling that if Genya and I lingered, we would only distract them. We bowed to her and exited the room. 
 
With a fresh breeze, a good amount of pressure on my chest left me. 
 
“Their effect can be a bit.. overwhelming,” she said airily. I nodded. The back of the building opened itself to a secluded part of the grounds, bordered by a wall of trees. Children, all in blue, raced across the field, dragging water out of the sparse snow as they did. Some stretched their arms out to imitate wings and they threw the water forward into spirals of droplets, all for them to chase. 
 
We sat on the steps and watched. There was nothing to say; it felt good to be reminded that innocent childhoods still existed, even within this cage of a palace. My thoughts flickered to the village I had stopped by on the way to Novokribirsk.

The boy-had he arrived here safely?
 
I couldn't bring myself to ask the instructors.
 
The sudden patter of footsteps approaching us told us to expect company. A girl with mousy hair stumbled past us in her excitement, turning back to give us a long look after she dusted her purple coat.
 
“What, no hello?” 
 
The freckles on her face widened slightly with her grin.
 
“Hello,” she said. She was more transfixed by Genya than me; stretching a hand out to touch a lock of her auburn hair. Genya handed the end of it to her willingly and I suppressed a chuckle. 
 
“Natalya,” a voice admonished. A Tidemaker instructor had found us. We rose from the stairs to return his bow. 
 
“She was just curious,” I told him. He managed a smile at this. 
 
“I can imagine, Miss Starkov. We will have to include information of your existence in our syllabus soon enough.” 
 
Ah, but it wasn’t me who had earned her curiosity-I would keep that to myself. 
 
“How are things? With the new children coming in?” 
 
The slip in his expression told me everything I needed to know. He salvaged his earlier smile.
 
“Despite new..complications,” he said delicately. “we have managed to continue doing our duties.” 
 
Slippery answer. 
 
On our way back, Genya told me that the number of Grisha children from West Ravka had diminished significantly. A dark feeling found the pits of my stomach.
 
“And still, we do nothing,” I said through gritted teeth. 
 
“We are in negotiations,” was the reply. 
 
“A fancy word for nothing.” It wasn't exactly nothing, but it was nothing until something came out of it. And by that time, everything would be lost. 
 
Her hand searched for my wrist; something she did when she could sense my mood darkening, but I slipped through it. 
 
“I want to keep this feeling,” I told her. I had been reduced to a bystander; one who had nothing to do but nod sympathetically at the sound of bad news, at the plight of my people. 
 
Her hand claimed my wrist again, this time firmly. 
 
“These burdens are meant to be shared, Alina.” My heart warmed at the sincerity in her golden eyes. My body felt lighter with her touch. 
 
“And besides, the only feeling you’re going to have is annoyance once we’re done with the opera.” I caught her sly smile. 
 
“I didn’t know we were going.” She dragged me past the stretch of the main building, pace quickening at the sound of my comment. 
 
“We are now,” she said. 
 
“I didn’t know you liked operas.” 
 
“You don’t have to like them to find them entertaining.” 
 
We scurried past a crowd of Inferni, some of them bowing at the sight of me. A doubt crossed my mind as we approached the building that housed the show. 
 
“Alright, spill. Why are we going to this thing?” Her hand left mine as she climbed up the stairs, her hair flying as she did. I followed her, meeting her at the top of the stairs now.
 
She turned back to look at me, a criminal grin now spread on her face. 
 
“Duke Mikhail is about to find his wife sitting in the balcony with her lover,” she said excitedly. A laugh escaped my lips.
 
There we go.

Chapter Text

“Your laces are untied,” Mal called after me. I felt my boots slip from my ankles, the snow now biting my feet with every step.

“Doesn’t matter!” 

“It does if you want to keep your toes!” 

It didn’t have to be cold. I could make it feel different-I could make it like the heat from the stone pavement in the middle of the summer. Mal never liked it when I did that, though-so I let the snow sting me. 

I slapped a hand on the tree’s bark; I had won again. Mal caught up with me, hands now on his knees, breath turning to mist in the winter air. 

“And what does the winner get?” 

“Dried apricots from Duke Keramsov’s kitchens?” 

I grinned, leaning my head against the Ash tree. 

“Need help stealing them?” Mal’s cheeks reddened even further.

“No,” he huffed. He didn’t like asking me for help as much these days; Mal was a boy on a mission. He wanted to prove himself to Roza, the girl he fancied. 

“Come now. Ana Kuya will box our ears if we’re late,” he yelled over his shoulder, running back towards the orphanage. 

I ran after him. 

Would we be late for our duties? I had to read to the other children this evening; Mal would have to replace the books we had been given. 

She might be mad. My ears stung in anticipation of her scoldings. 

Mal swung the door open and ran in, flooding the dark hallway with a cold breeze. I closed the door shut, but when I turned, the hallway was no longer there. As though on cue, screams pierced the still air, filling my body with a nameless fear. I crept past the space that used to be the hallway, searching for the others. 

“You’re late, Alina.” Ana Kuya’s familiar voice cracked like a whip, forcing my head to snap up in her direction. 

But there was no Ana Kuya there. Ana Kuya’s jaws didn’t have fangs protruding from the outside; her skin wasn’t a leathery black. 

Ana Kuya didn’t cover herself with blood. And Ana Kuya’s scream-it didn’t sound like Roza’s. 

I stumbled back as a cascade of a thick, dark liquid spilled into the room. It threw me off my feet and rose like a violent tide, slamming my throat and chest shut. I thrashed around, trying to reach for anything that could help. The stabbing pain had reached the back of my eyes, and my body refused to fight any longer. Someone-something grabbed my arm then and pulled me through the heaviness. I could barely make out the creature, once Ana Kuya, smiling as the blood ran down its face. I couldn't look anymore. The longer I looked, the stranger this pain felt.

I could barely make out the garbled words, spoken as I shut my eyes. 

“Alina, What have you done?”

The room settled into place soon enough, but as I flittered between the darkness behind my eyelids and my room, I realised I would take some time. Sweat pressed the fabric of my nightgown against my body and I took a few moments to collect my breath, to put myself together. The covers were now heavy, stifling, and I forced myself out of it to the steady chill of the room. 

The water was too cold, biting at my skin before I wiped it away. There was no sleeping after this, so I would drag myself out of this room for some fresh air.

The Little Palace didn’t go utterly still at night, no. The echoes of footsteps were always familiar to its floors, somehow, regardless of whether they were truly there or not. Soldiers couldn’t loiter, but the Darkling’s Oprichniki often stalked down these halls, shadows themselves, probably reporting in whispers to their General. 

He would be awake now. Ravka's enemies did not sleep, so neither would he. 

The steady sound of footsteps filled the corridor and I placed myself behind a pillar, heart rate increasing ever so slightly. This reminded me of the jobs, of the wraith-like roles I’d played for the ones that could afford my services. 

The grey of the Oprichniki’s uniform looked whiter under the almost solid beams of moonlight that broke through the corridor’s darkness. This one was alone, but I knew that there would be others. And what they might know of the war, of all that happened outside these walls..I would have to plan that later. 

The domed hall was painted in stark relief, only the fires of the hearths providing any semblance of the place. I placed myself behind one of the opened doors, fully submerging myself in shadow. My eyes were on the Darkling’s doors; if they opened, perhaps I could.. 

More footsteps echoed. I waited for the Oprichniki to enter the hall. 

What emerged was entirely different. 

“Are you sure this is alright?” A girl asked, her tone a low hiss.

“We don’t have much of a choice,” came the reply. I pushed against the wall further, as though the darkness would hide me better, keep me here longer. And the longer I stayed, the longer this moment stretched, suspended indefinitely-

"And she..Alina doesn't know?"

My name. Could be another girl, but those voices.. I knew it was about me.

"She can't know. We stay out of it. We let it happen." He loosened a sigh. "This is out of your hands. And mine. I'll be going now if this is all you dragged me out of my room for." 

"The hell you will. This isn't over," the female voice threatened. She grabbed his arm, a thoughtless attempt to make good on her threat, but they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching them. The Oprichniki were returning, and they had chosen the location of their conversation poorly. In silent understanding, the two slipped away out of the domed hall, leaving the weight of their conversation to dissolve into the night.

I wanted to follow. Wanted and yet, as the two Oprichniki walked past the hall in perfect sync, my feet failed me. 

Ada failed me. I had failed myself, by placing her in a position from which it was possible to fail me. 

I tried as I carried myself up the stairs, as I locked the doors and as I slipped into bed. But no feeling came. Perhaps I'd been blessed with too many good friends; that had made me lighter in my steps, more careless than someone like me ought to have been. If Nikolai were like every other man who sailed the seas, he would have sold or killed me. He could have. If I had remained who I was before I had entered the Little Palace, I would have followed Ada and Sergei, trying to grasp at exactly what they were trying to hide from me. And when I'd uncovered their..whatever scheme they were a part of, I would have.. 

I closed my eyes. 

No more sleeping. I was wide awake now.

"You seem a bit off," Genya remarked casually behind a piece of bread. Her eyes remained on me, watching, reading. I huffed a laugh and turned to my companion.

"What do you think?" Ada studied my expression and broke into her grin. 

"Nah," she said. "If you think she looks a little pissy, that's how she always looks." Genya locked eyes with me briefly, as though ready to argue otherwise, but gave us a shrug. 

"My mistake, then." 

I would have to tell Genya later, in private-to watch out. But she would know better, wouldn't she? Genya had been raised to brave the liars, the deceivers that filled this place. I was the child, I was the one that stumbled in this regard. 
The domed hall played host to a mix of chatter and whispering; any scrape of news of the war, of Fjerda's movements, was precious ammunition to the Grisha here. After all, the Little Palace was a holding place for the lives that waited for them outside of it. 

"Maybe something is off.." my back straightened at Ada's words. "You haven't even looked at the plums." She pushed a bowl in my direction, and I looked at her to shoot a smile. Of course, I hadn't noticed. The bowl had been on Ada's right, and I would have to think of every time I looked in her direction, what my expression might betray. I would even have to think about the fact that her fingers pushed the bowl, or that she may have done something to the plums. To me. 

I ate a plum anyway. Nothing so garish, so obvious would happen. The Little Palace and the grand palace were all about what happened in the shadows. Ada chattered on about the epic rant that Marie had supposedly woken her up with a while back, and I managed to laugh when she joked that Sergei was doing us all a favor by keeping her attention occupied. 

Sergei. I wouldn't have to deal with him as much, but his position as Healer gave him access to me. He held some amount of favor with the Darkling too-though I wasn't sure if his General would like the sound of him scheming in the dead of the night, my name on his mouth. 

My General. 

This was my fight. I would not have him involved. 

A while later, I started a hunt at the Grand Palace library. While Alina Starkov had known, to some extent, what she was doing, the Sun Summoner had fallen into the soft lap of luxury. I was here for a job, and despite vowing to never forget it, I had. I wanted to talk to Baghra but knew better than to knock on her door. As far as she was concerned, her work was done. The only way to force her into a conversation was to complete her task. The task she had given me back then, almost forgotten, was to find the five books that were listed on the paper. I had only found four and since the four had all been here, perhaps the fifth would be as well. Small science and Merzost-whatever more the last book talked about, it had convinced Baghra to add it to the list. I studied the almost endless expanse of books, curving around the walls of the vast hall. I would start with the smaller, more unassuming rooms, to see if luck would guide me towards the last one. 

Luck, however, seemed to have other plans. 

"You know, the romance of meeting a handsome stranger in a library loses its charm when repeated." 

The fact that Nikolai could say something so ridiculous and still maintain his charm bothered me immensely, but the absurdity of having a pirate prince for a friend bothered me even more. He sauntered towards me, hands in pockets. Nikolai had the uncanny ability to appear in moments of isolation, not in empty rooms but in rooms where permutations of people moving about opened a rare space where no one could see us. 

"Keep coming here and someone might think you know how to read," I told him. Nikolai chuckled, and ushered me into a dusty room I had been plotting to enter after making sure that I was alone. He locked the door and then turned to face me, the playfulness in his earlier expression gone. 

"Is everything alright?" 

I shifted my hands into the pockets of my kefta. There was no need to lie to him, no. 

"I don't know," I admitted. "There's too much happening, too much I'm unaware of. I feel like I've lost my footing completely." When he stayed silent, I continued. "I've become too complacent and if things continue the way they are, with what's happening out there.." I trailed off, wishing I could undo my words and say them differently. I sounded weak, naive.

Nikolai's gaze was unwavering, sincere.

"It's not your fault, Alina. The situation is complicated, inside and outside Os Alta. You can't help all that you don't know."

"I can help it," I snapped. "You can. You can start with telling me how you got Mal here, what you have to do with him becoming a spy and what the hell my friends have been up to. You can tell me what's happening out there, to my people."

Nikolai stepped away from me, his attention now focused on the rows of bookshelves that occupied the room. He slipped between another row, but I could see his hazel eyes through the gaps in the shelves.

"Tolya and Tamar are helping me keep an eye on the Fjerdan situation." He hesitated before he added, "Their earlier aggression has lessened but we're still on alert for obvious reasons." I stepped away, my fingers pulling the leather-bound books to read the titles.   

That was all he was giving me? The Fjerdans were trying to occupy our lands and our own people might be trading Grisha for sacks of grain. The First Army seemed to have a mind of its own; someone in Os Alta was supporting all that was happening in West Ravka. And our blessed King? Weak, ill, indecisive. They could scent his weakness, our weakness all the way from Fjerda. 

I blew the dust off a red book's cover.

"And the less I know, the better?" He had said something similar a while back and like a fool, I had listened. The sound of his footsteps matched mine, moving towards the end of the shelf on the other side.

"I swear when I say it-it can't be helped. I need you to be patient, to play your role while I sort this mess."

"And what is my role?" My grip on the book tightened. "Sankta Alina? Sun Summoner that shuts up and does what she's told? Ask no questions and you'll tell me no lies?"

"Yes," he shot back, returning my frustration. I didn't need to looked up from the books to watch his expression. He probably ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth between the rows now. I reached the edge of the current shelf, crouching on my knees to check the last of the lowest row. "You need to be this person, Alina. I know, I- I understand your frustration, and I need you to know that I'm here. I'm with you." He stepped towards me, and I stood up to face him.

"Then trust me!" I was losing too many people to lies, to half-truths. And it was no grand betrayal, but losing Ada's friendship struck me like a blow. My initial distrust of Genya, although necessary, had hurt as well, and Sturmhond's secret was just as painful. "You're not with me. And I need to be able to trust you, rely on you. And I can't do that when you-" I hurled the book in my hand at him, which he dodged swiftly, despite how close he was. "keep hiding things from me!" 

Nikolai closed in to stand in front of me. He smelled like damp leaves and pine-had he gone hunting this morning? How easily he seemed to fit in this place, into his role. 

"We are on the same side, Alina. You say the word and I'll take you away from here, from this place. We can set sail again; I have contacts in Ketterdam-they could make you disappear. If you want a clean slate, I'll give it to you."

And yet, Sturmhond was still in sight. Always thinking, always calculating. A fair friend too. If our roles were reversed, he would be more successful than me. 

"Even if that destroys Ravka?" Even if I would be running away from my duties? Doom my people? 

"Even then."

Relief. A dull, aching relief. 

Even in moments like these, my friend was a fox. He knew that I would never run away, never leave a job undone. His words were meant to relieve me, to tell me that if I wanted a way out, I would get one.

I took his hand off of my cheek and examined it. Two gold rings, studded with small diamonds sat on his middle and ring finger. One of them had a lapis stone with the King's symbol, his father's symbol etched onto it. A recent addition. 

"Plan on robbing me?"

"Shut up." 

It could be a prince's hand, if only it had been softer. But I knew that Nikolai was himself, belonged to himself before he belonged anywhere else, made his own choices, carved his own paths. He would do a better job than his father.

The tips of his fingers curled around my palm, and then let go.

"Was my performance moving?" I shoved him away and the unease he had dispelled walked right back in. I rubbed my temples. My search was another thoughtless grasp for purpose, for balance. I would have to think more if I wanted to do any of this right and make it out in one piece. 

We didn't speak as much as he escorted me to the Little Palace. I knew that if I asked him about Mal, his non-answers would set ablaze any amount of calm we'd accomplished. I would return to my room, wallow a little, and set something into motion to regain a sense of control. But before I could enter the palace, I realized just how much of a bind I was in. 

Having a friend walk another friend to their place of residence was a simple, innocent thing. Having a Prince of Ravka escort the Sun Summoner into a palace controlled by the General of the Second Army was a slightly more complex thing. 

Having said General waiting ahead of us at the entrance, standing still in what seemed like sharp, cold anticipation, was just a bit further than ideal. Yeah, just a bit. Nikolai knew better than to exchange a look with me, but his grip on my arm tightened as we approached him. 

He bowed gracefully and I wanted to know exactly what his deal was with Nikolai, why he was in communication with him. I also wanted to know if this meant trouble, although the thought seemed stupid now. Of course it meant trouble. 

"Moi Tsarevich, escorting her was unnecessary."

Nikolai laughed, but the pitch in his voice was off ever so slightly. 

"General, I couldn't possibly let our Sun Summoner wander loose in the Grand Palace now, could I?" 

A soft laugh. 

"How fortunate for her." 

I curled my toes in anticipation. Reading him was impossible. All I could do was stay out of it.

"The fortune is mine, General. Might I interest you in a drink, sometime?"

He smiled that half-smile of his, the now infuriating smile that could mean anything. 

"It seems that you have returned a man at last, Moi Tsarevich." 

Nikolai stiffened at this. The Darkling had definitely watched him grow up, at least to some extent.

In the next few minutes, it was clear that if God had any favorites, I was not one of them. If Nikolai and the Darkling had some kind of understanding, they didn't show it. Instead, they spoke about anything a Prince and a General could have a conversation about. They danced and flittered around topics like Nikolai's recent hunting expeditions and vague snippets on the war effort. 

All as though I wasn't even there. I shifted my feet around the ground, staring at the Darkling with enough intensity to warrant a look in return. No look came, and I considered faking a terrible illness to remove myself from the scene. As though he had read my mind, my shadowed man cast me an unnervingly innocent look, before retuning to his conversation. I felt a twinge in my heart then. 

That bastard. He was far too busy to be talking about the goddamn weather; he was making the effort to ensure my suffering by lengthening the scene.

Relief swept through me when Nikolai politely excused himself and left us. Before I could make something of the awkward tension, his military advisors slipped in to occupy his attention. He then smiled, smiled at me and disappeared through the entrance, leaving me dazed and confused.

He wasn't even travelling. He had no reason to be at the entrance. 

Goddamn it. 

Genya wiped the sweat off her forehead when she saw me. 

"Where on earth were you?"

I told her whatever I could spare and her features paled. 

"The Darkling had summoned you hours ago. You have to go now," she urged me. 

No need for that. I told her of our recent encounter and while amused, she still managed to tell me that I should go anyway, that a summons was different. But whatever it had been about, it was no longer relevant. I returned to my room instead and drew up a bath, as though all recent events could be numbed by hot water.

The water, so hot that steam clouded the mirror in the distance, didn't help stop the swirling thoughts. I hadn't told Genya about what I had seen last night. I had wanted to warn her, but telling her would mean entertaining the idea that the Darkling might know as well-which was something I was not prepared to deal with. My hand slipped, dropping an entire vial of rose oil into the water. I stepped out of the tub quickly, determined to sleep away some of my inner turbulence.

This would get better. I would get better at this.

----------------------------------------

This wouldn't work. I couldn't stop thinking. I had kicked the sheets at least a dozen times, trying to turn into some obscure position that would shut my head close and send me to sleep.

Sleep refused me. Stubbornly.

I kicked the sheets off. Again. 

Perhaps this was why he had said nothing to me. The twinge I had felt earlier, that he had given me, had grown into the same heavy ache I knew too well. I didn't know how he did it, but he did. He didn't as much as look at me today and had successfully gotten underneath my skin. And that smile? 

I couldn't lie still. Not when it came to him.

I slipped out of bed and reached for the shirt hanging on the chair. 

It wasn't too late to answer a summons, right?

Chapter Text

He had expected me. On his desk were two porcelain cups of tea, still steaming. Sometimes, I imagined our bond as a rope-if he pulled, he could drag my life into his and I could do the same to him. Some abstract, silent understanding kept us from speaking about these things—which I had accepted somewhere along the way. Certain truths were more bearable when unspoken. 

“Alina,” he said, still fixed on his work. Whichever room he decided to work in, the constant was the piles of documents stacked neatly around him, almost hiding him entirely. And with all that was happening now, I highly doubted he saw the inside of his bedroom these days.

Something about the inappropriateness of my midnight visit crept up my bones, which I was sure Ana Kuya would be quite satisfied with, and I stumbled out a-

“What was I called for?” 

Did people still speak like that?

He almost smiled.

“You’ll have to forgive me for that,” he said smoothly. “I was unaware that your attentions were occupied.” 

I clenched my fists in response. I truly hated how I ran out of retorts when it came to him. If Nikolai had said that, I would have at least thrown a knife at him by now.

He went through each document with mechanical ease, sometimes writing something down towards the end of each page. Exactly what he would be doing, regardless of my being here or not.

“That’s not an answer,” I said. 

“And you are here solely for that reason? Because I had called for you?" he asked.

I paused for a beat. 

“Yes.” 

He looked up at me now, a glint in his slate eyes. He could have the sense to look at least a bit like a mess, but he didn’t. It probably wouldn’t work, anyway. 

“Liar,” he said softly. “You’re here because you simply couldn’t stay away.” 

The cup in my hand shook slightly, and I took it as a sign to start pacing around the room. My record with maintaining any semblance of reason with him was a stunning zero, so the farther I was from him, the better. 

“An ancient philosopher,” he said after a few moments, “claimed in one of his written texts that an old god, feared that with their perfection, humans would one day rise against him and destroy him.” 

I kept walking, and he continued. 

“He decided to split each human into two halves. Cleaved in two, the humans that had been split felt the void their other halves used to occupy.”

The grip on my cup tightened.

“They continue to scour the earth, longing, searching for their other halves. Waiting until once again, they could be reunited.” 

He certainly had a good sense of interior decoration. His eye for beauty didn't seem to fail him-the dark, delicate mural on the walls; tangles of vines, forests and hunting scenes were accented with what I suspected was real gold. 

“The split-was it physical?”, I asked. 

“The text claimed it to be. Popular interpretations take it as a metaphor for the soul.” 

I studied the mural further. The hunters were Grisha, I realised. If you didn’t look closely, you would miss the sparks of fire that curled in the woman’s hand that clutched the reins of her horse. It wasn’t meant to be made a statement of-it could be some form of historic interpretation. Back to when we didn’t dare to be ourselves. 

I turned towards him. 

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “The soul doesn’t need completion.” 

“Maybe not.” He angled his face into his palm, staring straight into my eyes. “But it does need company.” 

I turned back to the wall, heat filling my face.  I set the cup down on the closest table. 

I heard him leave his chair and step towards me, and my heart thrummed in anticipation.

The persecuted, masquerading as hunters. No transformation, no ‘becoming’—just a few moments of play, of pretend. Or maybe I was looking too deep into this mural.

“Why are you here?” 

“You called me.”

“I will ask again. Why are you here now?” 

“This mural is beautiful," I told him.

 “You said you had wanted to reach me. You told me that I was all you dreamed of.” 

The voice was louder than before. He had closed the distance between us.

“I did,” I admitted. “And you were.” 

“How long will you keep pretending, then?”

The question was a splash of water on my face. I bristled in response.

“There’s nothing to pretend about.” 

“We dream of each other," he said. "We walk into these dreams, these spaces like walking through doors. I don’t believe in fate, but I won’t deny what I see.”

And what the hell was that? 

The anger in his tone was building and I could tell that he wanted to push me, to force some sharp truth down my throat. And I wondered if I needed to hear it, needed to face him, face us more clearly.

“How long will you pretend that you’re exactly like everyone else?”

“I don’t pretend,” I snapped, turning towards him again. “I was barely given the chance to pretend and that too was ripped away from me. I have dealt with being different my entire life and I wear this,” I pulled on the lapel of my black kefta, “because I accepted it a very long time ago.” 

“And you think,” he asked softly, “that I would have no idea what that might feel like?” 

Silence rippled, like a stone dropped into a pond. 

Of course, he knew. 

I leaned against his chest, hoping that he wouldn’t see it as surrender. I couldn’t control anything. I couldn’t control every ache and stir, every ebb and flow that he managed to wring from me, every single time. We were intensely connected for a moment and then ripped apart in another. I didn't know which was more unbearable; the connection or the estrangement.

“We barely talk,” I said quietly. 

“A situation that can be remedied,” he said. 

“I don’t pretend like I’m everyone else, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being like everyone else either. I am Grisha and so are they. I belong with them.”  

“You are Grisha, but you are beyond them. We are beyond them. Try to deny it.” 

“I will.” 

He held me in his arms and I could feel his power sink into my bones, warming me. Even in a simple embrace, I felt the weight of his presence. Of ours. 

“Do whatever you want, Alina,” he said gently. “For you, I have an eternity’s worth of patience.”

The impatience of his kiss seemed to tell me otherwise. 

Spring was still breaking through. In what felt like a collapse of time, the coldness of winter tried to creep in, pushing the season back. Small buds on the shorter trees were still tipped with frost, but now, the snow had reembarked its muddy journey to melt away and leave. Finally. 

The sheltered gardens inside the Little Palace showed no sign of these things, of course. And if they did, the short Materialnik woman nursing a violently red flowering plant in her arms would certainly not approve of it.  

“Surely she has something better to do,” I remarked. Materalki maintained the gardens inside the Little Palace and they made it a point to fill them with the most unlikely, difficult flora, almost in defiance of nature's intentions. 

“The small things matter too. Besides, you never know how they develop their poisons,” Genya added lightly. I nodded, but something didn't sit right with me about the woman's demeanor. 

“I just don’t understand why they aren’t more unsettled.. with everything that’s been happening," I said.

“They are soldiers. They won’t panic unless ordered to.” 

A sigh escaped my lips. Sometimes, it slipped past me. So many scenes of ease, of art and beautiful things filled this place that it had me forgetting a simple truth-this wasn’t Grisha society.
 And what would she panic about, anyway? Very few thought about family, or even considered words like 'family'. This place was all they had. This was the military-and their only option. 

Over being slaughtered, that is. Or sold.

“How has David been?” 

“Busy."

Too busy to see me.

We watched the Materalnik leave and exchanged a knowing look when we saw the small purple vial she gripped in her palm. Genya took a moment to pull me behind a pillar, even though no one else was there.

“You need to be more careful,” she said, her voice low but casual. 

I narrowed my eyes. 

“With what, exactly?”

“With whom, exactly, would be the better question.” 

My heart threatened to race, and I subtly pushed for more.

“I didn’t exactly come here to make friends,” I told her. Her eyes glinted in acknowledgement. 

“The Grisha here have spent most of their lifetime here together. You don’t know them.” 

That was enough of a hint. 

“I can’t say I’m interested anymore,” I said. Genya’s grip on my shoulder relaxed, and she dropped her arm to her side. 

"Later today, you'll be able to watch the newest units leave the Little Palace for the first time." I shrugged. I hadn't seen any ceremony for the flow of soldiers moving in and out of the Little Palace, but leaving for the very first time probably demanded some attention.

"He's leaving, you know," she said quietly. And the look on her face as she said it told me–

"David?"

But why? Deployment wasn't uncommon for Materalki, but David was prized among them. His intellect belonged in a space where he could work, conduct his experiments. And depending on where he had to be, David could be in real danger.

Genya shrugged, but her shoulders remained stiff. 

"Darkling's orders."

Whether it looked like it or not, change was already here. 

"He's probably developing weaponry, or doing something dull, like creating new alloys," I murmured. She swallowed and wore a beautiful, easy smile. I couldn't say more or promise more. We watched the blooming garden in silence, insects chirping.

“Funny thing,” I said after a pause. She turned to look at me.

“I was going to warn you, you know. I’ve seen enough to know who I can’t trust.” 

Genya gave me a small smile, the apologetic one that told me she had to leave now. 

“Let’s hope that you have.” 

Hollowing anxiety flittered through me. Seeking out Nikolai was no longer a wise option. There was nothing he could do for me regarding Ada and Sergei--or nothing I could think of yet. The Little Palace had its circles of information, and Nikolai was still adjusting to the role he returned to. 

I promised myself to set a thing or two into motion at dinner and set off to meet Botkin. The walk burned my legs slightly, and I winced thinking of what was to come if this was my current state. 

Botkin hadn’t seen me in a while and by the look of his face, I figured that he hadn't missed me. 

"Sun Girl is back, but for what?" 

His eyes narrowed to slits when he took in my state. I hadn't removed my kefta, but it didn't take a seasoned veteran to tell that I'd lost weight. Muscle. I surveyed the room; Inferni were scattered around, sparring in twos. Botkin taught a mix of all Grisha, but certain sessions were reserved for Grisha of a particular Order or Class. These were uncommon, but Fjerda had made its move-and everyone prepared for immediate deployment.

My eyes settled on Ada almost immediately. She caught my gaze and smiled. I smiled back. 

Botkin gave me an appraising glare and barked at me to join him in the ring. As if on command, a few Inferni decided to 'take a break' at the same time. 

Perfect to watch me get ripped to shreds.

Botkin decided that of all days, today would be his most ruthless. I stepped into the ring after a useless bout of stretching, and he wasted no time rushing in with a punch to my gut. Blocking it sent a stab of pain into my forearm, and I cursed loudly. Botkin clicked his tongue and proceeded to sweep my feet, knocking the wind out of me, landing me on the ground with a thud. The dust started to rise around me and spectators whistled and cheered-definitely not for me.

My body ached with a heaviness threatening to crush it already, and I knew the feeling would be nothing compared to the aftermath of this fight. The air felt warmer already, and I pulled myself to face my disappointed instructor. We circled each other, and I found myself deciding that when I lost this, he better have experienced some damage. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ada. 

Watching. 

Whatever calm I had maintained shattered under the stark rage that stabbed through my body. This was her face when she thought I wasn't looking; calm, collected. Cold, calculative. They were playing me somehow, somehow, and I was letting them get away with it. My breathing had turned more ragged, and I tried pushing the thoughts out of my head. Every moment my mind was out of this fight was a loss on my part, but as Botkin attacked again with a swift kick, the feelings continued to fester. I stepped away, barely escaping it, but the speed of my movement left my head spinning, throwing me off-kilter. 

Botkin saw the opening and struck me in the ribs. Hard.

The pain was black, intense, too intense, but as I staggered back, all I could think of was the eyes on me, deconstructing me, toying with me--and I couldn't let it end like this. I was the opposite of powerless, I was nothing but power, and everything else was

My fingers shook, and I pulled them into fists.

Damn it all to hell.

With whatever strength my anger could give me, I lunged for him.

Botkin cursed, and like a tiger disciplining a rowdy cub, pinned me to the floor two minutes later, his calloused hand on my neck. I breathed through my teeth, restless, hoping I had done enough damage. His face was set in grim lines when he watched me get back up, as though I had fallen back to a habit he didn't approve of.

 He said nothing of it, muttering something in Shu before threatening me to train more. I could make no promises; I walked a thin line with the Corporalki that monitored my health already. I was precious merchandise, as far as they were concerned. I was halfway through stretching my arms and legs, hoping to drag myself out of there before anyone relevant noticed me when Ada approached me, wearing a smile I now found insufferable.

"Haven't been here in a while, have you?" she asked jokingly.

"What gave it away?"

She chuckled and sat opposite to me after dusting her kefta. Her hair had grown, almost past regulation limits. Since that night, I played over every moment we shared, every word she'd ever said to me, searching for anything I could make sense of, anything that would connect to what she might have been up to. I would tail her soon-in fact, nothing stopped me from doing it now. Something was happening-something involving me-and I would have to find out before it was too late. Marie and Nadia could be a part of it, and while I no longer needed to know who to trust, I still needed to know who was harmless. 

Even the brightness of her eyes felt practiced.

"I was hoping I could spar with you," she said as she gave me a mocking appraisal, "but you look like you'd fall apart if I punched you."

"Might have a better chance outside Botkin's training room."

She laughed, and I followed suit. Without Botkin's rules protecting her, I doubted Ada would last long against me in a real fight. But really, what did I know about her? Maybe she'd have something up her sleeve. 

She could always shoot me. It didn't matter if you could single-handedly level a forest-if someone's got a decent pistol and good aim, they could send you straight to hell. It was funny how things like that turned out-maybe swords were an over-embellished choice of weapon for me. I pulled myself up, and Ada followed. 

"If you're training again, you know where to find us," Ada said. I shrugged in response.

"Nothing concrete yet, I think, but you should be seeing me soon regardless."

"And did they know why you were unwell?"

A tentative question, phrased carefully. The conversation had narrowed down to this.

"I was just exhausted," I explained. "Getting back has been a process because they take more precautions with me."

Ada nodded, as though it was only natural. 

"Hey, it's not like--"

"We have a spare?" 

She barked another laugh. "You saw that coming."

"Not really," I said smilingly. "It's just that Sergei says it all the time."

Her features fell ever so slightly, and something triumphant coursed through me. It was nothing. It was the beginning of something. 

A Grisha in Ravka joined the Second Army at a young age. The Grisha are found, retrieved and this place then became their new home. These Grisha are educated and trained thoroughly and are given responsibilities that
will help them assume their roles when they mature. A Division is assigned a unit, and the graduating unit takes flight in the dead of night, all pride, no glory yet. 

If it were the First Army, a mother might have cried.

Genya and I looked over a higher corridor into the large inner courtyard through which Grisha marched through. I was hoping to get a glimpse of David, and she was hoping that I wouldn't mention his name. The steady beats of their footsteps echoed on the marble, and I sunk to lean against a wall, still sore from Botkin's training. I closed my eyes, trying not to think of what it would take for me to be one of them. If I could fight, if I could truly do something–

No. Not yet.

After a while, I said-

"You think he gave some impassioned speech?"

Genya snorted. 

"The Darkling doesn't give impassioned speeches."

I hummed in response. Of course, he didn't give impassioned speeches. He probably stood with surreal power and grace, and a single look at him convinced anyone alive to not disappoint him. He was their leader, their legend. His presence was more than enough to inspire conviction. 

"If you could leave this place, would you?" I asked her. She crossed her arms on the edge, golden eyes still searching for her man, but her shoes shifted when she heard my question.

"I don't know,'' she replied. She looked down at me moments later and offered me a hand. I rejoined her. The Grisha continued to flow through the corridor, but Genya was ready to leave. By the look of her face, I couldn't tell if she had seen him or not, or if it would have made a difference. They were out of reach with each other, although they had no reason to be. I opened my mouth and closed it, realizing that silence was a better comfort. 

Genya left me to hear the rhythmic marching alone and I stayed frozen to the spot in idle contemplation. Soon enough, the shadows that painted the walls of the corridor started a slow crawl towards me.

"I'm sorry I couldn't attend your speech."

"Seriously, Alina," my shadowed man said, "I don't want to know what you think my job truly entails." He cast me a downwards glance.

"Do you plan on lingering?"

"My schedule isn't as busy as yours, General."

 The bitterness seeped into the words, but he didn't take the bait.

To my surprise, he sat down with me, close enough for the space to feel warmer. We listened to the remnant of the footsteps, and I was confident that he had something better to do than to sit in a dimly lit corridor, but had elected to do it anyway.

"Where are they going?", I asked him.

"Novokribirsk."

"And David-," I found myself asking, "why does he need to be there?"

"He's overseeing the development of a certain project. Upon its completion, he will return."

Too vague. And any place on the other side of the Fold, too dangerous. 

The footsteps had been replaced by near-perfect silence. They would exit the palace gates soon. 

"You show concern for your friends," he observed. 

The shadows continued their slow crawl, lazily attempting to cover every surface they found. It would take a while for them to reach us but I assumed that they eventually would.

He knew everything that happened in this place. It was only natural that he had made out who my friends were. Only thing was, I hadn't. 

"Whatever I can spare."

"I have a feeling that you would have too much to spare."

Well, he got me there. 

"Well, that's the point of having friends," I sighed. "You watch out for each other." 

At least, in theory.

"The reports of conflict are minimal in Novokribirsk," he said suddenly. "The real threats lie near the borders. David will be accompanied by armed escorts, and will return unscathed if all ends well."

"You have some to spare as well, I see," I said smilingly. Enough to reassure me about David's safety.

He huffed a soft laugh, one that skittered past my skin. 

"Just for you."

His hand found mine in the darkness and we stayed hidden just a while longer.