08||THE PROBLEM WITH WANTING

ᴀ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴛᴇ

"Drakon Sankt'ya." The words, so simple as they may have been, echoed through the library as another chill crawled down Anya's spine. She turned around and the Apparat's presence alone was enough to make her feel revolted. "Why the title Apparat?" She hissed, not particularly kind. He crept forward to meet her before he spoke "I heard you performed quite a feat before you got captured." The raven-haired narrowed her eyes at him, on guard and unsure what he meant. "Words always have a way of coming back to us. This tale of a dragon on a battle field reminded me of it." The old man said as he tapped on the spine of one of the books, turning to look at the one she had in her hands

The Oryalen woman covered it with her hands, not wanting to show the book. "Out at night for some reading material are we? What is it that you are looking for? Perhaps I can be of assistance." The Apparat said a bit all to eager with a hand on his chest and an unfamiliar but unsettling glimmer in his rat like pupils. "The last thing I need is your help so if you'll excuse me, I need to try and catch some sleep." The young grisha woman said, slightly irritated. The old man only chuckled. "We'll see about that." He said ominously. "Tomorrow is a big day for you so good luck." He finished before turning away in the shadows and the inferni marching back to her room, not being able to shake the feeling that someone or something was watching her.

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Night had fully fallen as Anya rushed back to her rooms, the book tucked underneath her arm. It moved against the fabric of her shirt, the feeling strange as there was no kefta in between. Shaking her head, she opened the carved doors, swiftly locking them behind her. "Try to disturb me now you old cooty bat." The raven-haired muttered as she put the book down on her desk. The book was large and leather bound, gold engraving it's front, resembling the Istorii Sankt'ya a little too much that it made her shiver lightly. The Oryalen woman patted the dagger in its sheath at her side before pulling it out, looking intently at is as she sat down. Her fingertips tiptoed at the hilt as she twirled it around, the gold weaving it way down the dark path and cresting into flames as it reached the obsidian-like blade with tendril looking arms.

She sighed as she put the dagger back, moving for her closet to grab a night gown. As she undressed herself, the young grisha woman's eyes wandered down her scar littered body, from the volcra wounds on her shoulder to the cuts that ran down her arm to bullet wounds to- the inferni frowned as she turned the other way, a large rip flowing down her leg like water as if large teeth had raked past. Her hand wandered down, fingers skimming the top of the scar. It looks healed, but she couldn't remember where she got it from. But then again, her own mind played tricks on her sometimes, as if it was to protect herself in the Ice Court so maybe she forgot about this too.

Anya was too tired. Her eyelids drooped and her limbs felt too heavy, exhaustion seeping in once more. As she crawled under the blanket, she realized that tomorrow was the day she had to face the music. Sure the raven-haired had already seen some of the little palace grisha but tomorrow she would see them all. And they would see her. Unease and dread filled her entire being, almost making it impossible for her to go to sleep and rest. But if sleep did not come for her, then she knew that the darkness most certainly would.

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A large plume of smoke crinkled through the air, filling her lungs as she looked at the blazing inferno that used to be the barn infront of her. The little girl sat on the ground with knees scraped black and blue, barely 5 years old, as violent tears streaked down her cheeks that she tried to reign back in. The strong arm of her mother, who held her shoulder in a vice grip, held her back on the ground.

Raw shouts emanated from their throats as her father tired to brave into the burning building, filled with the tortured screams of three souls, before the fire grew and shut him out. Slowly a crowd started to gather, running with buckets upon buckets of water, desperately trying to put the fire out. Her mother's firm hand stayed where it was, clamped down on her shoulder, almost digging her nails into the Oryalen girl's skin. Her voice was vehement, filled with anger and rage as she spoke. "This. This is your doing." The little girl sobbed as choked words left her mouth, hitching and stumbling over them. "I didn't- I didn't mean to!" Her head jerked to her mother, all kindness and love vanished from her dark eyes.

"Mommy please!" Her hands reached for her, wanting to hold her, seeking for comfort, seeking for love. But her hands only grabbed air as the older woman backed away. "You are not my zheji. You are a stranger." Her next words she considered carefully before her eyes hardened in resolve once more, her voice unwavering, her words piercing her daughter's heart like an arrow. "Kadema mehim." All air had left her lungs and the little girl felt as if she was free falling down from the sky. The world was fading away and the darkness of her mind seemed to swallow her whole.

Two tidemakers from the grisha examiner team that were there for the older children of the village ran toward the barn as they pulled water from the crops and the nearby lake, dousing the violent and roaring flames. The smoking skeleton of the building groaned, no longer burning, before part of it finally collapsed. The tidemakers looked around as they conversed with another grisha woman in blazing red, their eyes darting to the Oryalen girl on her knees on the ground, who only kept staring off into space in shock.

The grisha woman approached her, her hair neatly tied into a bun before she crouched down, her soft and young face peering down at her with a sharp gaze. The slightly shook the girl, as if to wake her up from a trance, before calming her raging heart with a small hand movement. "I need to find my parents. They wouldn't want me to talk to a stranger." The girl uttered slightly dazed. The grisha woman's brown furrowed, as if she knew something that the girl did not, as if it hurt her too. The raven-haired turned, only to see the few people that were left staring menacingly at her, her parents nowhere to be seen.

"Can you give me your hand?" The heartrender asked as the little girl extended her palm. As soon as the older woman took it, the Oryalen girl was showered in a hue of fire like light, the ashes of the fire dwindling down from the sky around her. Looking to the tidemakers, the heartrender nodded. "I guess she's the only one." One of the tidemakers slightly stepped forward, his head motioning to the smoldering embers of the barn. "You know he'll want to see her after this." The woman chewed her lip slightly before turning to the raven-haired girl, holding out her hands once more.

"Would you like to come with me? This wouldn't happen again." Slowly and carefully, the girl's shaking little legs stood up as she took the grisha's hand. "Where is my daddy?" Her small voice insisted. "I don't wanna go without goodbye." She said, tears slipping from her eyes once more. The heartrender clasped her hand in hers in comfort as they walked, a sorrowful look in her eyes. Rows after rows of small houses were passed before the little girl spoke again "What are you?" Resolutely and with pride, the older woman provide a simple answer, one that would be the start of something inside the Oryalen girl's heart and change it forever. "We are grisha. And we are going to change this world."

Turning back one last time before stepping into carriage, the raven-haired girl casted a final glance at the village she called home. And now it simply wasn't anymore. No souls were saved that day. No souls were taken to the little palace. All except for one.

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ꜱɪx ᴅᴀʏꜱ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴛᴇ

With a surge, the inferni shot up from her bed, bathed in a sheen of sweat once more. The sun was rising and rays of light shone inside, illuminating the room with a fire like glow. Falling back into the bed, Anya pinched the bridge of her nose with a deep sigh before a knock resonated through the morning air. Annoyed, she stood up, her gown almost falling to the ground as she grabbed a dark, flame stitched robe and wrapped herself in it before unlocking the door.

With a flurry, Genya and a few other servants moved into the room, the red head proudly holding up the new, radiantly blue kefta with it's red, orange and yellow flames before the raven-haired. "A group of Fabrikators and tailors worked on it all night! It looks fabulous don't you think?" She asked the Oryalen woman who was pulled left and right as the servants forced her to pull her gown off before helping her get dressed in the white blouse and dark breeches. "I can do this myself! I am not some helpless mutt!" She snapped before turning back to Genya, scanning the kefta up and down as the servants scurried out of the room.

The same feeling like in Novokribirsk, an anxious and sickening rush, clawed it's way inside her once more as she looked at the garment. "It looks lovely!" She mustered, forcing a small smile on her face as she took it from the red head and the other servants left the room. Shrugging it on, the young grisha woman felt out of place. The material was new, still a little stiff and not used to the curves of her body. "It's a great fit! Good!" The Tailor grinned before frowning a little. "I almost forgot, the darkling asked me to tell you that you should resume your schedule as normal. He said that seeing you back up and at it might inspire some of the other soldiers." If there was anything the inferni wanted to do, it was to finally get some bloody rest. "I'm not sure if it will but if that is what moi soverenyi desires."

"At least I won't have to do anything for the winter fete this year." Anya added, smiling slightly as she stepped of the pedestal the servants had put her on. Genya chewed her lip, one of her hands scratching her neck as the other fiddled with the cream colored sleeve of her kefta. The raven-haired's expression drained from her face, replaced with annoyance and furrowed brows. "You have got to be kidding me right? I thought that someone else would be given the honor of performing infront of the tsar, tsaritsa and tsarevich like a monkey in a gown." She signed, plunging down on a chair as she tipped her head back. "That hoighty toighty bitch Polina and her brother perhaps? She did always make herself out to be better than anyone else. Sure liked to try and prove it to me before I broke her brother's arm once."

The red head let out a loud laugh. "Well you're not wrong. But Kirigan would really appreciate it if you did." The Oryalen woman cocked her eyebrow up, looking the other grisha woman up and down. 'Some things never change.' She thought, pity and sadness creeping in as she looked at the tailor before shaking it of. "Fine." The young grisha woman finally replied. 'It could help the others.' Noticing that Genya was slightly bouncing forward and backwards on the heels of her boots, she spoke. "Is there anything else?" She asked the red head as she shrugged. Slowly but surely, she turned around as she reached inside a a box she brought with her. A stark blue half veil unfolded in her hands, the light bouncing off of it.

The young grisha woman furrowed her eyebrows. "He wants you to cover your scars until the fete." The inferni shot up from her chair faster than anyone could blink, her confused expression now cross with anger. "Absolutely not! I will not cover myself up for his convenience! I've only been back for a day and I'm already being bound in shackles when I've just released them!" She shouted. Taking a deep breath, she stilled herself before her stark eyes regarded the Tailor. "Tell the darkling that I refuse. If I am going to show myself to the world, it will be as who I am." Genya packed her stuff and forced a smile as she did before walking to the door. "Good luck." She said encouragingly. "I'm going to need it." Anya muttered.

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Rain had muddled the ground underneath the raven-haired's feet, the pleasant smell arising from the ground as she headed for the training ground behind the little palace, troops of other grisha swarming around her as they did the same. Some barely seemed to notice her while others seemed to stare a little to hard, whispering to one another in hushed and hurried tones, ducking their heads and walking faster when her gaze so much as drifted in their direction.

The Oryalen woman did not care what others thought and kept her head high, a small, crooked and barely visible smile on her lips. 'Fine.' She told herself. 'The empties vessels make the most noise.' As soon as her boots hit the actual training grounds, all eyes swarmed to Botkin as they awaited instructions. The young grisha woman's eyes landed on him and as soon as he saw her, he stopped in the middle of his sentence to the person he was speaking to. The older man frowned, not understanding what was going on. "Nhaban." He simply uttered as he walked closer, looking like he had seen a ghost.

"Of course you lived. How could I expect anything less from you?" He eventually said, barking a loud laugh as he clapped her on the back. "Well I had to get back to see my favorite instructor again, didn't I?" The inferni joked as she followed him deeper into the grounds as the groups of grisha split up, the younger ones following their grades as the rest followed the Shu man. It was silent for a minute as they walked before the ex-mercenary spoke. "Scars, like steel, is earned. Do not waver by how people react to them. Be proud that you were strong enough to survive getting them." He finished before walking to the center of a clearing, Anya sending a nod down his way.

A soft tap on her shoulder pulled her out of her trance as she turned to her right, Alina suddenly standing next to her. "Hey." She smiled, Nadia and Marie nervously standing next to her. "Hi." The raven-haired smiled back at the young Starkov woman, the other two grisha women visibly deflating, as if they were relieved that she didn't blast fire in the girl's face. While the group had thinned, everybody still stared at the Oryalen woman as she and the rest of her group tried to pay attention to what Botkin was saying, thinking that she wouldn't notice. Some shot their prayers in her favor, asking the saints to help her. Others, the more selfish ones, prayed only for themselves. They loathed how she looked, what was done to her, as if she had any choice in it. They acted as if she was monstrous, a demon walking amongst men.

"Ignore them." The sun summoner's voice peeped up, bumping her shoulder against the young grisha woman's shoulder. Finally, it was Nadia that spoke. "Alina is right. Plus, sometimes scars add something. Kinda sexy." She joked making the four of them laugh. "Can't say I heard that one before." The inferni laughed, her gaze turning to Marie, who hadn't said a word so far. "How's it going Marie?" The brunette crinkled her nose with a slight smirk "Oh you know, kicking ass, accidentally setting someone on fire, the usual." The other inferni quiped before Botkin shushed the group, continuing with his instructions. "Split into groups. Find someone to spar with." He ordered.

The Keramzin woman turned to Anya, sparking curiosity as she did so. "Want to hav-" before she could finish her sentence, a hand clamped down on the raven-haired's shoulder, forcing her to wheel around. "You." The other person sputtered in annoyance. "Ah. Polina. So...nice to see you." She flickered back, body readying itself in defense mode. "We need to talk." The group split up as the blonde put her hands up, eyes filled anger. "I doubt that but I have a feeling you're not one to listen to others unless there's something in it for you." The Oryalen woman retorted with a sigh, raised her fists.

The other inferni cocked back her fist, swinging it at her as she ducked, sliding underneath Polina's arm. "You took my act!" She fumed, steam seemingly seeping out of her ears before the young grisha woman grabbed her arm, forcing it behind her back as she kicked the blonde's rear end, sending her stumbling. "Believe me I don't want it!" She yelled. "Am I supposed to believe that?" The other inferni bellowed, wheeling around before charging, arms wrapping around her opponent's middle as she tried to tackled her to the ground. The inferni held her own wrist as she powered her elbow down between Polina's shoulder blades before she collapsed in the dirt, a groan of pain escaping her lips.

The blonde pushed herself upwards, reckless abandon and rage sparking in her eyes and she gritted her teeth. "Is that all you've got?" She hissed, spitting the words through her teeth. "I can do this all day." Anya jeered as she shrugged, raising her hands once more as they tightened into fists. The other inferni began to advance, her feet pushing against the dirt as she launched herself. It was as if time moved slowly, or as if it had stopped moving all together. The raven-haired snaked her hands around her opponent's wrist, turning her back into her chest as she did so. Her arm arched upward as she gathered her strength, her elbow battering down on Polina's with a resounding crack, howling spilling from her lips before the Oryalen woman hauled her over her shoulder, slamming her down with her back on the ground.

The grisha around them backed away in shock or surprise, commotion rising between those present and Botkin tried to find a way through the crowd. The young grisha woman leaned down before he could, her voice dropping to a whisper only the blonde could hear. "Now you listen to and you listen very well." She snarled, resentment palpable in her voice. "The next time you insult me, try to hurt me, anyone else or so much as even look at me the wrong way, I will not be so merciful. Next time, I will kill you myself. Got it?" The inferni finished, her threatening smile digging into Polina's bones as she continued to groan in pain. Botkin pulled Anya away, sending a reprimanding look her way. "It hurts me more than I can bear to say but I think you should leave for now." he muttered sadly before helping some healers ship off Polina to the sick ward.

"Well I guess I'm off then." The raven-haired muttered, her mind racing back to the book on her table. Alina's slender fingers latched around her wrist softly, muttering a small 'awesome.' before letting go again as the Oryalen woman moved away. She walked as far as her feet could carry her, through the almost deserted grounds as everyone had somewhere else to be, the familiar echoes of her heels hitting the steps to the little palace. Soundless and like a ghost, she wandered the halls back to her quarters, casting a single glance at the dark, shadow engraved doors that Kirigan was probably sitting behind at this moment.

It felt weird. Being here felt weird. It felt out of place, as if something was wrong but she couldn't tell what, as if it wasn't real. But it was real and maybe it wasn't the little palace that was wrong to begin with and it was the young grisha woman that was the one out of place. She could see it right infront of her, her younger self going through the doors of the school, sneaking inside other classes she wasn't supposed to be. Whether it were corporalki, materialki or etherealki, curiosity and the thirst for knowledge always got the best of her. She could see the general catching her but letting her go nevertheless. She could see herself walking through those dark doors, whether it was to be with him or merely talk. The hours they'd spent theorizing about stories and grisha and power. She could feel his pull on her, even now. She wanted to hate him, she truly did, but what if she never could? Her eyes betrayed her almost as much as her heart did.

She wanted to hurt him, break his bones, snap his neck, shatter his heart. Perhaps she would do the last one soon. But what if she faltered? When it came down to it, would she be able to stop him? Would she be able to maybe even take his life? The inferni shook her head, fingertips skimming one of the scars on her collar bone, to her neck, to her face. It might have been a Fjerdan who hurt her but she was there because of him, so what difference would it have made if it was Kirigan holding the knife? Where there once was understanding, kindness, friendship and a connection between the two in her heart, now only festered resentment and hatred. 'Yu yeh sesh.' She thought, thinking of the Shu proverb. Despise your heart. Do what needs to be done-be cruel if you have to. Her jaw hardened with resolve. She knew exactly what she planned on leaving behind when she was done with him. Catastrophe.

Closing her eyes once more with a sigh, Anya's feet carried her further as she walked, the air around her seemingly brimming with heat. As she stepped over the threshold of her quarters, her obsidian eyes spotted a neatly folded note on her desk. Carefully picking it up after locking her doors, the raven-haired read the sprawled writing with elegant loops on the note. 'See me. Now.' She let out a sigh, knowing there was only one person who could speak like this, with an aggravated tone even in their writing. Baghra.

"Now I have to walk all the way back." The young grisha woman murmured, annoyed but then again, this was the way Baghra worked. Closing her doors behind her once more, she made her way through the hallways, their gilded mouldings glinting as rays of sunlight shone through the windows, gliding over the many portraits of kings and queens, nobles and land alike that graced the walls she passed, the heels of her boots clicking against the marble titles. As she passed, grisha and servants who somehow had nothing to do right now, shot her sparing glances, silent mumblings reaching the Oryalen woman's ears. "Maleni." Whispered the Ravkans. Ghost. "Demjin." Whispered those with Fjerdan blood. Demon. 'One does not survive what she did without making a deal with the devil.' is what they seemed to think.

The inferni raised an eyebrow, looking some dead in the eye when she passed, the servants and some of the grisha uncomfortably slinking away. As she walked, Anya turned over what Baghra would say to her. 'Daft child.' said a voice in her head that sounded distinctly like the old woman. The forest between the palaces doomed into view, one of the pebbled paths leading to a hut that went underground on the edge of it. Stormclouds gathered above her and whether it were squallers that had caused it or simply the weather itself, it matched the mood. The raven-haired knocked on the door, hearing a disgruntled murmuring before she opened it and descended into the darkness of Baghra's hut.

The room was dark and only a fire in the grate illuminated the haunched over form shifting the wooden logs around with a fire poker. "I see you got my message." Baghra said, her wrinkling hand motioning to the seat next to her. As the Oryalen woman sat down, the old woman's dark eyes appraised her cautiously. With one swift movement, the instructor whipped her cane up, almost hitting the young grisha woman's arm if her hand hadn't gotten ahold of it. Her facial features twisted in a snarl. "My child are you insane?" She hissed as she lowered her cane once more. "Missed you too you old hag." The inferni retorted as she narrowed her eyes, swearing she could almost see the corners of Baghra's mouth quirk up. "But please, tell me why you think I am insane." The older woman sat deeper in her chair, staring out infront of her into the fire as she spoke, her voice barely loud enough to hear. "Walls have ears. Doors have eyes. Trees have voices. Beasts tell lies. Beware the rain. Beware the snow. Beware the man you think you know."

A shiver ran down Anya's spine at her words. "All though I think you found that last one out for yourself, given what I've gathered." The instructor added, her dark eyes turned to her once more, as if there was something mournfully in them, as if she understood. The raven-haired's eyes widened in surprise, realisation striking in. "You're his mother." The shadow summoner's mouth tightened at the words, shuffling out of her chair to put the fire poker away. "You always were a smart one. But if you really were smart, you would've taken this chance and fled." The older woman chastised. "I don't know what he has planned, I don't know what he wants, I only hope I have enough time to teach Alina what she needs to know so she can fight my son. So you can both fight him."

The Oryalen woman stood up briskly from her chair before Baghra grasped her hands tightly. "He intents to use her someday, like he wanted to use you. Like he still wants to use you." Her voice wavered, her dark eyes desperate with warnings. "Baghra what do you mean?" The young grisha woman demanded as dread pooled in her stomach, the hairs on the back of her neck standing upright, suspecting the answer would only conferm what she thought. "Ever since her arrival, it's as if he's more focused than ever. He has her wrapped around his finger. Everything he wants, everything he's ever longed for, is almost within his grasp. Eventually his greed will consume him. You have to stop him Anya. For the sake of everyone. Before it is too late."

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ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴅᴀʏꜱ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴛᴇ

Three days had passed since the inferni talked with Baghra. Three days since she burdened her with those words. Almost four since she had last talked with the crows. Were they safe? Were they okay? The not knowing made her nervous, unable to reach out to them incase it would jeopardize the job. Anya thought of Inej, neatly packing her knives. She thought of Jesper, carefully checking his guns. She thought of Kaz, probably plotting and scheming a thousand backup plans. 'I wish you were here.' She caught herself thinking.

It was later in the afternoon, almost evening, and these past few days hadn't been so dreadful after all. Alina, Nadia and Marie had managed to convince her to get out of her room and eat with the rest of them, the tidemaker of the three saying she would 'accidentally' push all of those who even looked at the raven-haired the wrong way into the lake. Avoiding the general however, had proven to be the hardest thing of all, sometimes catching herself thinking about visiting him. The Oryalen woman could feel his piercing gaze on her every time she was at diner. 'Please. Please look at me.' He seemed to whisper, like he had begged when they saw each other again for the first time.

He didn't call on her, didn't ask her to come, as if he was waiting for the inferni to make her first move across the board. And in a way, she was grateful she didn't have to go to him. His mother's words still weighed heavily upon her chest, feeling as if a horse was standing on it. 'You have to stop him Anya. For the sake of everyone. Before it is too late.' She pinched her eyes as she closed the book on her desk, her search into finding whatever the scales are ending up fruitless. Her hand grabbed ahold of a small boat she had found, resembling the fisher boat that matched the one of Zhana's dad, hidden underneath one of her floorboards. The squaller's name was carved into the wood work messily but small. It made the young grisha woman smile a genuine smile, something that she hadn't done in days. But her heart felt heavy with grief.

Her friends weren't here to enjoy all these things anymore. No more kvas stolen from the kitchen that they would share. No more getting angry and making up because you couldn't stay mad at each other. Zoya had abandoned Anya in favor of becoming friends with others, of being in the darkling's attention, but they used be close before it all. Nikolai was sent out to the university of Ketterdam, although the raven-haired doubted that he hadn't started a coup yet to usurp the board. 'I miss you.' She thought, looking at the stars as they began to appear in the twilight sky, remembering the many nights the prince and the Oryalen woman had spent together on the roof of the grand palace as he taught her how to navigate with the stars.

Those were simpler times, when the expectations the world had set for them didn't weigh so heavily upon their shoulders. She wished that he could tell her it would be okay. The rest of her friends were gone and dead, not even buried but their bodies on the bottom of the ocean or burned at the stake. The young grisha woman held the boat in her hands before grabbing her dagger, carving other names in it. Ilya, Zhana, Ana, Cass and Tia. Just a few names of the fallen, their faces flashing infront of her. And they weren't the only ones. 'Countless have given their lives for this war but when will it stop?' The inferni questioned angrily. She would remember them but what about the countless other nameless soldiers that did not make it home? Who would remember them if she could not?

Anya's obsidian eyes landed on the forest between the palaces, remembering the lake between them. She needed calm, she need peace, so that's where she would go. The raven-haired marched out of her quarters again, brushing past anyone that tried to stop her on her way to the stables, not caring what they had or wanted to say. She led a stark white horse out it's stable, throwing on the saddle, the headgear and grasping the reins as she swung herself onto the animal, charging outside and plummeting into the woods. The horse's hoves stampeded on the ground, galloping through the woods before she tugged on his reins, skidding to a stop.

The lake sat pristinely right between the palaces, locked in a world of its own as wind made the surface ripple. Trees creaked, owls and birds alike that would singing from their nests until deep in the night as other creatures roved the ground. The Oryalen woman tied the horse around a tree, thin enough so the animal could move, thick enough not to escape and not too far away. Stray rays of sunlight that seeped through the thick canopy of the trees, shone of a bench at the edge of the lake, making the body of water sparkle like diamonds. Gently, the young grisha woman kneeled on the ground, puting the little fisher's boat onto the water as she sent it off. Slowly, the ripples of the lake carried it further and further away, almost out of reach as the inferni sent out a small, dancing flame it's way. The hull caught on fire before it quickly spread. This was their funeral, their peace. She needed to let them go. She needed to say goodbye to them one last time. "Zyeshostash." Anya said, her voice merely a whisper. Goodbye.

C R A C K.

Something crunched the leaves as it walked, snapping branches on its way towards her. Soundless, the raven-haired pulled her dagger from her kefta, whirling around to look the fool that decided to ambush her in the eyes. The man that stood before her was taller, taller than her, his hair golden blond and his stark blue eyes filled with surprise with the dagger at his neck, yet a smug smile plastered on his face. "It's nice to see you too Anya." The Oryalen woman rolled her eyes at him, putting the dagger back in its sheath. "I wish I could say the same, moi tsarevich Vasily." She replied, sweeping in a deep, mocking bow. "I thought grisha looked beautiful when they used their power but you don't really look like it, do you?" Vasily jeered, making her narrow her eyes. "I could say the same about your personality and brain but then I'd be talking about something that did not exist." The young grisha woman quickly retorted as she sat down on the bench, the blond letting out a hearty loud laugh before sitting down next to her, the both of them suddenly falling still.

The air was silent, fraught with unease as they watched the wooden carving smolder at the center of the lake. The inferni's obsidian eyes darted to the older Lantsov brother, his face sullen and joyless. It was now that Anya noticed the bags under his eyes and his messy hair. "I'm sorry." He whispered when his cool eyes settled on her, his voice so silent as if he was ashamed. She knew what he meant. "It's okay. The scars...they don't hurt anymore." The raven-haired swallowed, the two of them turning back with their faces forward. "I miss her Anya." The crown prince's voice wavered as he leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees, his eyes fixated on the remainders the little boat. The Oryalen woman felt his words tug on her heart. "I miss Anastasia so damn much."

The heartrender and the tsarevich were an unlikely pair, that much was true. But ever since the red head had been in his life, Vasily was becoming a better person, little by little and step by step. The young grisha woman saw it, one of the few people aware that the two had a relationship in the first place. Vasily Lantsov and Anastasia Vasilieva, bound by heart and separated forever by death, doomed to always find the other and have them wretched away all too soon. The inferni blinked, remembering that there was another side to this story, that there had been someone else left to mourn Ana besides her. Tentatively, Anya put her hand on his back, letting it rest on his shoulder. "I know. I miss her too." She said solemly, breaking the silence. "I was there. I- I saw it happen and there was nothing I could do."

The blond gave a small, half-hearted smile that quickly faltered, placing his hand on the one of the raven-haired. "After you disappeared," the older Lantsov brother started hesitantly. "I didn't know what to do. I closed myself off and I am pretty sure I might have terrorised some people with my presence. No one knew that I was in mourning. They just chalked it up to my old behavior returning. And I guess," he said as he sat back straight, still holding the Oryalen woman's hand in his, a slight laugh escaping his lips. "I can't really blame them for it." It was silent but something of an understanding passed between the two, telling the other that they were not alone in their loss.

"You're looking like you always did when I beat you at babki when we were children." The young grisha woman laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "You did not!" The crown prince shouted. "Oh please I handed your and Nikolai's asses to you." The inferni retorted with a snort before standing up. "As much as catching up was interesting, I'm afraid I need to go." The tsarevich quirked one of his eyebrows in disbelief. "It's because I'm so attractive isn't it? You have to get away or else you will never get enough of me." He joked overdramatically. "I say this, and I cannot stress this enough, I find you completely repulsive." Anya joked as she untied her horse and let it out on the path, before mounting it, looking down at Vasily one last time before riding off.

The stark white horse's hooves came to a stop as it almost barreled back into the stalls, attracting the eyes of some onlookers. The horse sighed as the raven-haired's hands stroked its nose before carefully taking of the headgear and sadle, and secretly handing it a carrot from a big tub at the entrance of the stalls, the gelding snicker as is gladly gobbled it up. The Oryalen woman gave a faint smile before turning around, a figure standing in the doorway, the grey embroidery on their blue kefta illuminated by the sun. "Zoya?" The young grisha woman mumbled in surprise, before the squaller rushed over, enveloping the other in a rushed hug. "God, who died to make you act this way?" The inferni remarked with a rised eyebrow as they parted, earning a smack from Zoya on her arm. "YOU DID!" She shouted, her beautiful face frowning before she collected herself.

"Oh yes, that. That was rather unfortunate, wasn't it?" Anya said with some distance between them. The Nazyalensky woman had hurt her in the past, abandoned her as a friend and now she was here, happy to see that she was still alive. Maybe losing something makes you realize the worth and impact it had. Maybe the dark haired regretted it and maybe the raven-haired should forgive her. They had once been friends, family even, so what would stop them from being it once more? Maybe it would be one's pride, or perhaps even their foolishness. The Oryalen woman sighed before mustering a small smile. "It's good to see you Zoya." The corner of the squaller's lips turned up slightly at her words.

"Nothing short of a miracle. Although I'm not sure everyone agrees. They either call you a demon or praise you as a saint it seems." The young grisha woman scoffed. "They call anyone a word when they don't fit their image. I find it quite hilarious." Zoya nodded at her words with a haughty smile before she spoke. "I should go. I don't I can stand being in this stench any longer." She chimed as she wafted her hand infront of her, the inferni agreeing.

The walk back to her quarters was more tiresome than she had expected, the short meetings with Vasily and the Nazyalensky woman more draining than she had thought. But the calm veil that had fallen over Anya was starting to falter like it always did, like it always had. Reality crashed in as the little palace always would, the useless book on grisha studies on her desk, the scales hidden underneath a fake bottom in one of the drawers. Sitting down at her desk, the raven-haired pulled rhe pouch out, picking one of the scales out of it. Power seemed to rush to her finger tips, her heart beating a mile an hour in ecstacy as her skin glowed, strands of hair seemingly waving in the air as a hue formed around her. The scales seemed to call her, whisper her name, enthralling her with their words. We are yours.

Determined, the Oryalen woman tossed the pouch back in the hidden compartment. Standing up briskly, she marched out the door, wandering down the halls before flagging down a servant. She looked young, as if she was relatively new at the little palace, too nervous to be a gossip. The young grisha woman spoke her next words firmly. "Bring me David Kostyk."

When a knock was heard on the doors of her quarters after a few minutes, the inferni muttered to come in. David sheepishly entered,  his fidgeting hands in front of him. It almost made her smile. "Could you close and lock the door please? " Anya asked him before motioninghim to sit down on one of the chairs. "What I am about to tell you does not leave this room, do you understand?" The raven-haired man frowned but nodded at her. "You have my secrecy." The raven-haired thanked him before pulling out the drawer, handing him the pouch. As she did, it made her nervous. What if he were to betray her? What if he wanted them for himself? What if- the Oryalen woman shook her head. She wasn't going to become even more paranoid. Not now.

"Could you tell me what I am looking at?" The durast asked, before taking one of the scales in his hands, gasping as he did but not quite experiencing th same as the young grisha woman had. "I was hoping you could tell me. It seems I have found this in the sea after I shipwrecked. Or rather, it found me." The Kostyk man quirked an eyebrow at her words, his attention quickly turned to the shimmering scales of bright white edged with black. David stood up before walking to the door, turning to her before he opened it. "I'm not sure if I fully get your request, but I'll try my best." The inferni gave him a thankful smile. "I know you will." As he turned to go, she grabbed his attention once more. "And David? Don't tell anyone. Don't trust anyone. Don't tell to someone else, even people you think you know. Don't tell Genya. And especially don't tell the darkling."

ᴛᴡᴏ ᴅᴀʏꜱ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴛᴇ

Anya had spent her night tossing and turning, a pool of dread churning in her stomach as she laid awake, thinking that people could barge in and charge her with treason somehow. Staring up at the sparkling canopy ceiling of her bed, the raven-haired brushed back her hair from her face. As hard as it may be for her to do, she would need to put trust in the raven-haired man.

The morning was hectic and calm at the same time, bustling with training and breakfast, calmly chatting with friends. The Oryalen woman kept up appearance but something inside her felt wrong. She knew it was necessary to keep the scales secret, even from those she called her friends. The young grisha woman couldn't help but feel a pang inside her chest every time she looked at Alina. She had made a deal, to take her away and practically sell her for a million kruge, split four ways. The raven-haired would betray her friend and do the same to her that had been done to herself. That he had done to her, not much to her parents dismay.

Realization struck her. She spoke of taking him down, she spoke of a revolution. But in the end, was she really better than him? The inferni clenched her fists. She would not be. She vowed to be better than him and more, make up for his mistakes, build a better empire, a better world, ontop of his. Other thoughts filled her mind. If she intended to save the young Starkov woman, she would need to betray Inej. She would need to betray Jesper. She would need to betray Kaz.

Anya took a deep breath as she sat in her chambers trying to calm herself, putting a hand on her chest. 'It'll be alright. It'll be okay.' A knock resounded on her door, tentative. Sliding open and turning the locks, the raven-haired swung it open to find the durast in front of her, looking back before entering her chambers. "And? Did you find anything?" She urged, wrapping her robe around her tighter. "Well, yes and no. It seems I cannot trace its origins. Anywhere. Maybe if I'd search in the restricted section, I'd find something but I took your advice and didn't want to draw any attention." The Oryalen woman nodded, thankful that he was willing to help her. "And the yes?" The Kostyk man muttered a small 'Ah.' before pulling out the pouche and handing it back to her. "While I wasn't able to trace back its origins, I performed a few tests and those confirmed your suspicions but.."

David hesitated, fidgeting with her fingers as her tried to figure out his words. "This isn't just a normal amplifier. It is extremely powerful so it can't just be from a normal animal. Where did you find it?" He pondered. The young grisha woman opened the pouche before pulling up the sleeves of her robes and secured them to her shoulder, stepping forward. "I know I have asked a lot of you, I know I have asked for you to put your trust in me David but there is one more thing I must ask. One more favor." The raven-haired man had stopped fidgeting, putting all his focus on her. "Anything for a friend." he said. The inferni swallowed. "I need you to weld the scales into my arms."

If he had been sitting, the Kostyk man would have fallen out of his chair by now. "Are you sure? We don't even know where it came from and what consequences it'll have because of it." Anya nodded at him resolutely. "Do it David." Nervously, he stepped forward, taking the pouche back in his hands. "Stetch your arms forward." He demanded. The skin of Anya's forearms tingles as it came in contact with the scales. Time seemed to slow down as David laid out four rows of them of each forearm, her skin by now ablaze as a warm feeling spread throughout her body. The raven-haired man's hands started to move in intricate designs, the scales descending into her arms as they started to merge with them, making the raven-haired wince.

As he continued, she gasped. Power surged not just inside her but into her, the embers of forest fires that danced beneath the Oryalen woman's skin were now so much more than that. The flames licked inside her fingertips and it felt like the fire wasn't just inside her body anymore, like a container. It traveled to every inch of the young grisha woman's being, enveloping her, embracing her, becoming one as the scar that ran over her leg began to throb in ignored pain violently. She felt like she was bursting at the seams, light and heat radiating off her as papers blew all over the room, strands of her hair whipping everywhere. The inferni wasn't just a summoner of fire, through the combustion gasses that swirled in her hand, any longer. In this moment, she wasn't the purgatory inferni or the Drakon Sankt'ya. She was Anya Oryalen, a sea of flames, one that could not be stopped. And she would rewrite her destiny as her own.

______________*~【☀️】~*_____________

ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴛᴇ

Four voices laughed loudly. Alina's chambers were filled with a member of almost each etherealki. The raven-haired picked at the young Starkov woman's hair, twisting it in buns, untwisting it and then braiding it. "I can't really figure out a hairstyle. Sorry." The Oryalen woman shrugged. "Oh but the braid crown looked lovely!" Nadia commented with a smile. "Anyways, Marie, so you tried to ask someone out?" The sun summoner asked curiously. "She did but it did not end well." The young grisha woman snorted. "It was an accident! I've never asked anyone out before! I was so nervous." The group laughed as Nadia chimed in. "The squallers had to launch him into a pond." The doors swung open and in marched Genya with an array of servants. "We need all that to help me pick a hairstyle for tomorrow?" The Keramzin woman wondered, surprised at the sight. "Girls leave please." Genya ordered. "Wait can Anya stay? I'd love to hear her opinion." The inferni looked at the other two grisha women who had halted at the door before looking back. "You guys go ahead."

The doors closed behind them, the Tailor, Alina and Anya being the only three that were left in the room. "They were trying their best with my hair you know." The young Starkov woman pointed out. "Especially Anya." The red head quirked an eyebrow as she smirked slightly at her. "No surprise there. But for this it needs to be perfect." She said, her hands moving so the sun summoner's hair unfurled. "I hate to disappoint you but I still haven't gotten any letters of your tracker friend."

The raven-haired's ears perked at the mention. "Is this the infamous Mal?" The Keramzin woman nodded. "You don't have to update me anymore. I am sure you have enough on your plate." The Safin woman scoffed at her words. "You have no idea. Tatiana's been on me so early this morning, wanting me to touche up her face before the rest of her team show up." Genya's face turned away, slightly distracted. "It would turn the king's eyes away from, until nightfall at least." She swallowed. Alina and the Oryalen woman locked eyes, their expressions twisting.

"I could blind her during the demonstration if you'd like."

"I could accidentally set her hair on fire if you want."

"What would guys do, if the Fold was gone? It would probably mean the second army isn't as necessary anymore, wouldn't it?" The young Starkov woman said as she broke the silence, earning a nod from the young grisha woman. "I've always wanted to see the True Sea. Maybe visit the library of Ketterdam. Travel the world you know. What would you guys do? Anya?" The inferni sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning against on of the bedposts as one of her feet rested on the frame. "I don't know. I've been here for as long as I remember. In a way it's all I've ever known." She answered with a click of her tongue. "But if I had to choose, I'd have my own bakery. Or maybe be a blacksmith. Imagine all the shit I could do." She said with a smile. "Mal always talked about a farm but I don't think they're for me. Maybe a dacha." The red head laughed. "That is if saints ever get to retire."

The group laughed before the Saffin woman's face turned serious. "Alina you know I love seeing you like this but I...I want you to be careful." Anya's eyebrows furrowed at her words, confused. "Of what?" Genya looked at the sun summoner, her  eyes haunted as she spoke. "Powerful men." A knowing shiver went down the raven-haired's spine. 'She was turning against him.' She realized, seeing the confused and dazed look on the Keramzin woman's face. A knock resonated at the door, opening to reveal David clutching something in his hands. "Uhm. Alina, meet David, our best Fabrikator. One of his creations is the blue light on the skiffs." Akwardly shuffling forward under the red head's gaze, the raven-haired man handing her what he was holding. 'Love sick idiots.' The Oryalen woman rolled her eyes.

"Here are the gloves I made for you for the presentation." Alina looked at them curiously before she spoke "What do they do?" The durast motioned with his hands, clearly happy that she had even bothered to ask. "The disks and reflective crystals make it easier to split one beam into two." The young grisha woman looked at them as the young Starkov woman tried them on, intrigued, the disks already breaking the pre-existing light. She opened her hands, reaching out infront of her as she bended the light, two glowing orbs of light bursting from her palms. "Ingenious." The Saffin woman said, her yes slightly misted as she looked at him. "Thank you David. I'll be sure to use them." The Keramzin woman smiled thankfully, the Kostyk man gracefully exiting. "I hope to see you at the fete!" Genya shouted after him as the door closed.

The inferni looked at the sun summoner, both their looks knowing as they smirked at each other. "You never compliment someone straight to their face." She teased. "You like him!" Anya laughed before the two of them earned a toss in their faces from whatever concoction the red head had in her hand. "Not a word." After a few minutes, the Saffin woman happily tapped the back of Alina's shoulders. "All done. Now we have to go to your kefta fitting." Three of them left the room, the raven-haired looking at a sun dial. 'It's almost time for a meeting.' She thought, relief traveling through her body as she sighed. It would almost be time to leave the little palace all together as well.

Marching down the same hallway, the Oryalen woman was pulled from her train of thought as the young Starkov woman pulled her and Genya to the window. "Look at that! We have to go! It's like butterweek back home!" The red head frowned. "I don't know if that's a good idea. What if someone recognizes you?" Just in that moment, as the young grisha woman looked outside, she recognized Inej's shape in an oddly colored leotard as she moved between the crowd of entertainers.'That's where I need to go.' Her mind whispered. "Oh come on what would be the harm Genya?"  The Keramzin woman's eyes widened in excitement. "Anya is right! I might wear a scarf for you. Or a hat. Or two hats!" She clapped with a smile, dragging the two other grisha with her.

It was only a few minutes later that the grisha in her cream colored kefta stood next to the other two in their robes, looking over the oncoming festivities. "It's so colorful." The inferni mumbled, slightly surprised to see such color combinations, people smiling as they got to work. "Ladies and Gentlemen!" A man shouted that she recognized as Marco from the Pomdrakon players. "I present to you...ALINA STARKOV!" His hands motioned forward before he parted of the stage, a huddle of people in grey and black bursting aside as a blonde woman in a shining, golden dress shot out from between then, pushing them as they bended away from her.

A smoke canon blew in her face and Marco stormed onstage "No no no!" Alina stepped forward with a laugh. "Should I tell them?" The red head wretched her back as she spoke. "Alina don't." It was then that Anya spotted a surprised movement in the corner of her eyes, turning to look eyes with Jesper as he tried on a costume before winking at him. 'Sign of life: check.' She said to herself, even though there wasn't a sign of Kaz anywhere, probably skulking around in the guard uniform she got him. "GENYA! ALINA! ANYA!" An irritated and angry voice muttered underneath their breath.

"What are you doing?" Fedyor huffed. "I- it's my fault! I just wanted to-" it was then that the heartrender broke into a smile. "I'm sorry, I was just trying my Ivan imitation." He laughed. "A little too convincing for my taste." The Saffin woman replied with a hand on her heart before the Kaminsky man gave them his arms. "Now let's get out of here before my better half might come looking." The raven-haired hung back, pointing at the entertainers behind her. "Do you guys mind if I explore a little more?" She asked before the others nodded, disappearing into the crowd.

It wasn't long before the Oryalen woman had found Jesper, soundlessly following him to a small carriage as he opened the door. "Let's go." She said, making Jesper jump a foot into the air. "Saints! What is it with you people and sneaking up on me? Is it a Suli thing?" He complained. "Get in Jesper." A familiar harsh and slightly gravel voice demanded, making the inferni smile even just a little bit. Closing the door behind her, the young grisha woman sat down next to Kaz and Jesper before Inej filled in a minute later across from her, Arkan sitting at the door. "What's all this?" The Zemeni man questioned, pointing at the layers the inferni was wearing underneath her robe. "Fitting." She simply replied. "How are you?" Inej asked softly underneath her breath, making sure the others didn't hear. "I- I'm fine." Anya mumbled, pulling the sleeves a bit deeper over the scales that came into sight just a little over her wrist, peaking out from under the sleeves.

"Enough talking. It's time for a status update on the job." Kaz finally spoke, his eyes glancing in her direction before he unfurled the map over a small table. The sharpshooter cleared his throat before his friend started. "Before you say anything, there's one thing you should know." He said a bit uncomfortably. "She's half Shu." The rest of the group starred at him. "Okay then we have a better description." The wraith replied. The young barrel boss cleared his throat, annoyed at the interruption. "I walked the path from the ballroom to the diner room, looking for an ambush point. Here,' He said as his gloved finger came down on a spot on the map '...is a secret room. It's a dressing chamber." The raven-haired quirked an eyebrow as she folded her arms. "That's where we'll grab her?" Dirtyhands nodded at her.

"Remote, controlled space, I like it." The Fahey man commented. The bastard of the barrel's face twisted in a not so pleased look. "The catch is that it has no door." The Ghafa woman twisted in her seat. "No door?" She wondered in shock. "It's some kind of grisha lock. It took a Materialnik to open it." The conductor shuffled around as he put his bag on his lap like an old lady that was afraid someone would rob her. "For that we'd need a loadstone of at least 2000 Gauss strength." Jesper groaned in his seat. "Where are we going to find that?" The bespectacled man shuffled around in his bag before proudly pulling out a stone. "You just have to move it across the lock. And uh...I wouldn't keep it in your pocket. Not if you intend to have children one day." He added, making the Zemeni man recoil in his seat. The bastard of the barrel turned to the Oryalen woman.

"Anything we need to know?" He wondered, half curious and half accusatory. The young grisha woman scratched the back of her neck as she spoke. "Well. The general kind off decided to take two inferni's of their act and...give it to me?" She said with an awkward smile. The group eyed her curiously before Kaz spoke. "That's not necessarily a bad thing. You would have an overview of the room, take an estimate. Anything else?" Anya folded her arms back again over her chest, sleeves sliding to her elbows. "The two inferni's are twins. Pavel and Polina. You might do good not to get to close to me because Pavel might have it out for me since I broke his sister's arm." The dagger expert nodded, the young barrel boss showed no reaction except for a slight twinge in the corner of his lips while Arkan and the sharpshooter shared a look of surprise. "When you say broke her arm, you mean a few years ago and totally not recent right?" The Fahey man demanded. Anya didn't answer. "Right?"

Dirtyhands leaned back, dark gloved hands folding of the crow head of his cane, a stern and scheming look on his face. "Arkan grabs the target." Inej twisted in her seat. "You want the new guy to grab the one million kruge package?" The young barrel boss' face turned to her, one of his eyebrows slightly arching up."The new guy knows his way around grisha locks. And it's not like it's outside the wall so Anya could melt it." He settled back in his seat. "We'll be setting up a lynx flush." Arkan pushed back his glasses as he spoke. "Which is?" The wraith looked at him and the raven-haired as she spoke. "Lynx are pack hunters. They'll clear a path for the prey." The conductor nodded. "So I grab the target, you clear the way?" He asked. 'Could you be anymore slow in understandingthe obvious?' The Oryalen woman chastised. "And we do it for diner. You grab her, Inej, Anya and I clear the path and Jesper."

One by one, the group left the carriage with intervals, carrying on about and blending in with the rest of the carnival folk. The Ghafa woman, the young grisha woman and dirtyhands were the last ones left and as the dagger expert went to go, she hesitated and turned back around to look at the inferni. "Is it true? Is she real?" She could practically feel his eyes roll behind her in skepticism. "She is." Anya smiled before Inej left. "You can't trust him." The raven-haired turned to Kaz as he spoke, the hairs on her arms and neck standing upright. "Who? Arkan?" The young barrel boss clenched his jaw, his ice blue eyes never meeting hers.

"When we were in Novokribirsk, I saw him enter Zlatan's tent. It's possible that he has an agenda next to our own." The Oryalen woman furrowed her eyebrows at his words. "Care to share what that agenda is with the rest of the class?" She demanded. Dirtyhands pulled out his pocket watch before looking at the door. "You need to leave." He uttered sharply. The young grisha woman folded her arms. 'He's not telling me something.' "Listen Brekker I-" The bastard of the barrel silenced her with one glance as their eyes locked, not one of anger or annoyance but of contemplation, as if he wanted to tell her but something was holding him back. "You need to go now if you don't want to be too obvious." He started, choosing his words carefully. "Anya I need you to trust me." He said as she stood at the door. "Please." The inferni nodded as she opened the door and turned to go before she heard him speak. "Nice scales by the way." And then she closed the door.

______________*~【☀️】~*_____________

ᴅᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴛᴇ

Morning, lunch and early afternoon seemed to fly by Anya after yesterday's meeting. A part of her felt nerves rise up at the thought of her act at the winter fete and at everything that would come after. It was a busy day and she had avoided Kirigan so far so what would another night be, especially one as busy as this? The answer was something the raven-haired did not long to hear. A knock had sounded at her door and in came Genya with her kefta in hand a servant to drop off her work kit before leaving. "Just because Alina's wearing a masterpiece doesn't mean yours shouldn't be one either." She said proudly, holding the garment out.

Instead of the normal, slightly shorter kefta, this one was almost floor length. It's fabric was somehow a deeper shade of dark blue, more powerful and vibrant. The red, orange and yellow embroidery tangled down in great flames, spreading from wide over her shoulder and back to her middle until they started again and rimmed the bottom. The flames seemed to weave themselves into intricate patterns up her arm, a single tendril connecting with the ones on her shoulder. "It looks...wow." The Oryalen woman managed to bring out. "I know." The red head sighed contently, taking it of its rack and guiding the young grisha woman's arms into it. The inside was soft and pleasant, the outside made strong with the grisha core cloth like always. "You look beautiful." The Saffin woman said with her hands on the inferni's shoulders, a smile plastered on her face. "I- I  do." She smiled.

"Now sit back down, I need to do something about your hair." The Tailor fussed before forcing her down in a chair at her vanity. Popping open her kit, she took out a flower, it's leaves colored with a subtle orange and red hue, before draining it of its color, swiped her thumbs lightly across the other's eyelids. Anya felt her stomach churn, she still didn't like this. Genya took a step back before she shook her head, removing the added color. "I've got some more nice things to fit into your hair." She said after her hands had drifted over Anya's hair, giving the obsidian locks a shiny, lush look. Cresent half moons connected to chains were pulled out, the red head pulling her hair back and making smaller braids, her locks now gone from her neck.

As she did so, the Saffin woman put the cresent half moons in, the chains draped across her hair, going from one side to the other in an elegant pattern. The raven-haired's face looked refreshed, her eyes determined to get through the night in one piece. She smiled, turning to the Tailor but she did not return the gesture. "I'm sorry." Instead her hand clamped down on the Oryalen woman's shoulder, holding her down in her chair. She couldn't use her powers or else she'd burn the palace down and something, perhaps Genya's skills as part of the corporalki or something that was in the young grisha woman's drink forcing her body to stay seated, kept her down. "He made me do it." She seemed to whisper.

The red head's hands started moving once more in their intricate designs and panic spread throughout the inferni's body. She tried to buck from her seat but invisible bonds seemed to keep her down. Anxiety glared, her blood rushed, her heart beat rapidly as she looked in the vanity mirror and saw what the Saffin woman was doing. Her face was starting to look different, the Tailor's powers working in overdrive as they started to remove Anya's scars from sight, hiding them but taking them away never the less.

The raven-haired's entire body was shaking, goosebumps riding up her skin, bile rising in the back of her throat as she squeezed her eyes shut, tears escaping her eyes until Genya was done. The Oryalen woman's eyes opened and a sickly feeling washed over her. Her hand drifted over her cheek, trembling. The young grisha woman looked in the mirror and all she saw was a stranger, some version of her they had created. She had taken their cruel words, their curses and taunt, she had taken her scars and turned them into armor. And now they had taken that away from her too. It was too much. As if he was sending her a message. "Defy me again, see what happens." She could see him, right in front of her, whispering those words in her ear as he leaned in close, his face next to hers with those dark onyx eyes of his staring into hers, challenging the inferni, as if this was all a game. If it was a game he wanted, then it was a game he would get.

______________*~【☀️】~*_____________

Anxiety seemed to fill her every being, unease crawling up her skin, everyone's words glancing off of her as she made her way to the winter fete. The few straggler guest that had spread across the stairs and rooms that led to the ballroom seemed to stare at her as she walked by, their gazes avoiding her as they continued to gossip. "Well she doesn't look so terrible." a Kerch woman whispered before her companion hushed her. "How do you suppose she got out?" another one wondered in hushed tones. "It wouldn't surprise me if she made a deal devil or dabbled in merzost. She looks like the general and we all know what his ancestors did." Anya squeezed her eyes shut for a mere second, trying desperately to steady her breathing as she arrived at the ballroom.

Servants moved around carrying many trays of drinks and appetizers besides the grand food table that was standing at the most far away wall. Heads turned as she entered, some with positive or sorry looks on their faces while other seemed to want her anywhere but here. Music played but it didn't quite seem to reach her ears. The raven-haired's eyes scanned the ballroom but Inej and Kaz were nowhere to be seen. She could see Zoya mingling with her friends, her face twisting in discontent when she saw her, not because of who she was or the fact that she was there, but because of the visual absense of her scars. And she wasn't the only one, as David, Marie, Nadia and Fedyor looked at her from their places in the ballroom. The Oryalen woman continued to walk, trying to find a corner to slump into or trying to find someone she knew wouldn't judge her. Nikolai was nowhere to be seen.

Her feet had carried her to the food table, taking a plate as she pilled some fancy sandwiches en macarons on it, there designs sprawlling with colors of keftas. Silently, the young grisha woman stuffed them in her mouth, downing a glass of sparkling wine along the way. Taking a deep breath, her nerves finally calmed, her heartbeat steadied. A tap was felt on her shoulder and as the inferni turned around, she came eye to eye with a slightly drunk Vasily. Without a word, the older Lantsov brother took her hand and ripped her to the dance floor where the last remnants of a lively song were playing. "Come on! Have a little fun!" he jested. The crown prince pulled her close as the song changed, before he burped and continued to guide her over their corner of the ballroom.

"Saints that was disgusting." Anya snapped, annoyed at the tsarevich, annoyed at everyone. "I don't know what Anastasia saw in you. And if she were alive, if she could see you now, she would be so disappointed over what you've become." Suddenly, Vasily stepped back with wide eyes and the raven-haired saw a flicker of who used to be when he was with Anastasia. Fragile and hurt, his true self surfaced without him even knowing. A young boy desperate to prove himself to others, to his father while knowing deep inside that maybe his younger brother would be a better choice. After all, he was charismatic, drew people in, entertained them. He was interesting. The only thing the oldest Lantsov brother had going for him, besides good looks, was just that. He was the oldest, the crown prince of a nation. Take that away, what would he have? The answer was nothing and no one.

He felt a pit of jealousy rise in him against his brother, fed by his father. So he would cling to his throne, trying to hang onto it with tooth and nail, desperate not to fade into oblivion and desperate not to lose anyone. But he did. He had lost his Ana, he had lost his calm in the storm that was the ravkan court, and he knew that if Nikolai came back, the throne had a chance of slowly but surely slipping from his grasp. "I- I'm sorry." The Oryalen woman uttered, grounding the tsarevich back to reality with the obsidian of her eyes. "I need to go." As he left, a servant approached her, telling her that the time for her act was nearly upon them.

______________*~【☀️】~*_____________

The dull thud of his heavy Oprichniki boots resonated the hallways as he walked towards the winter fete. Kaz clenched his jaw as he did so, the pain from his leg pulsating with each step he took. When the young barrel boss stood at one of the open entrances without a door, his icy eyes scanned the room. And that's when dirtyhands saw her. He saw her before he saw anything else in the room. "I present to you...the Drakon Sankt'ya." An older man with creepy eyes announced, his hand waving forward to gesture to the dais. There she was, the young grisha woman was standing up on that dais at the head if the room, so close yet so far away from the bastard of the barrel, the lights dimming.

She snapped her fingers and magnificent flames blossomed from her palms. Her arms reached out, sending orbs of fire across the room, controlling them, guiding them and reaping the oohs and ahs as they burst, looking like tiny fireworks. Their wisps began to interweave as the inferni moved her hands, covering the public in a warm fire-like blanket above their heads. Suddenly, the room became darker, people muttering under their breath. Then the tide seemed to turn. The blanket of flames, the lit candles all across the room seemed to flicker out, their flames ripped from their places as Anya seemed to suck them in, her face aglow. He hadn't noticed but Kaz's breathing had stopped, his eyes unable to leave her as she looked like an imploding star. But something was wrong. Her scars were gone from sight.

When he looked at the raven-haired, there was no gold in her eyes. No shine in them as she showed her gift in the room. Somehow the deep blue of her kefta with its blazing red, orange and yellow embroidery seemed dull compared to her normal black. The Oryalen woman could've been happy here, once upon a time perhaps. But she changed, shed this place and her past like a snake sheds it skin. She didn't show it but the young barrel boss knew that she longed to belong somewhere, with someone else, but not belong to them. Dirtyhands knew that. He saw it. He even felt it himself sometimes.

The young grisha woman surveyed the room as she felt the pull of the fire returning to her, her obsidian eyes looking in the dark, search for but a glimpse of the young Starkov woman, Nadia or Marie, of the dagger expert or Jesper, of dirtyhands. She felt something boring into her head, searching for its source. The inferni saw him, standing at the back of the crowd, his dark kefta seemingly flitting around him. The darkling. Their eyes locked from afar, her obsidian ones peering at the darkness that swirled in his. If someone looked at their souls from a distance, they would only have one word for it. Kin. But when Anya looked at him, really looked, all she saw was a stranger in his eyes where she once saw someone she loved.

When their eyes locked, uncertainty settled over Kirigan. He need to see the raven-haired. He needed to talk to her. The general knew what he felt when he looked at her. She didn't belong here. Perhaps she never did and she finally just woke up from a dream. A dream that was a complete and foolish lie. But his own selfish desire kept her here despite what he knew, like a bird desperate to break free but stuck in a gilded cage of his making. As soon as the flames had dissipated, normal lighting returning to the room, it roared to life, some clapping while other got down on one knees, their hands making the gesture of saints. As the Oryalen woman stepped of the dais, he worked his way through the crowd, wanting, needing to speak with her, only to find that she was seemingly running away from him, disappearing into a room.

The young grisha woman felt a rush of ecstacy rush through her veins at the sound of clapping hands when the light of the room returned. But what surprised her the most were the people on their knees, even some of her friends, all of them whispering the same thing. Sankta Anya. Drakon Sankt'ya. As soon as she stepped off the dais, the inferni felt his eyes on her once more. Turning her head slightly, her eyes spotted the shadow summoner trying to make his way through the crowd. Several people tried to talk to her, but she politely excused herself, desperately wanting to get away, to breath, to calm, to not be near him any longer than she had to.

She dodged into a room on the side, glad that no one was in there until she heard the door open and close. Anya could feel it in the air. He was here. "Why do you avoid me so?" The darkling's voice asked, concerned. The raven-haired would not, could not, turn to him. "Anya please. Please talk to me." He almost seemed to whisper desperately, so close, too close perhaps. The Oryalen woman turned, taking a step back to put some distance between them. "I know what you are." Her voice managed to break out. The black general's face twisted, desperation gone and curiosity, sharpness in its place as he walked around the young grisha woman, circling like a vulture as her head followed him.

"Do you now? I never hid what I was from you. So why act so surprised? I thought we had the same goal once, you and I." Kirigan narrowed his eyes at the inferni as he spoke, challenge in them when he looked at her. Cunning and determination seeped off of him and suddenly Anya remembered that she wasn't the only wolf in this den. "We did." She replied, her voice level-headed, her head held high. "Then what changed?" He asked, the curiosity palpable in his voice, as if he was waiting for the raven-haired to say something, as if he waiting for her to trip over her words. The Oryalen woman looked up at him as he stood close again once more, her eyes narrowing at him. "I woke up."

The general took a step back, taking a deep breath. "Tell me." The raven-haired started. "Did I ever mean anything to you?" She asked angrily, her voice wavering heavily as if barbed wire was wrapped around her throat, tears springing violently in her eyes. The shadow summoner did not answer. The Oryalen woman didn't need him to. She could see it in his eyes. Maybe he did care about her once. But in truth, she was a pawn to him. A means to an end. That's all she ever was to him, and all she ever would be. "What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?" He almost shouted, trying to understand, trying to know and figure out what the inferni wanted. Tears almost sprung into Anya's eyes as she spoke, trying to avoid his gaze as she turned away from him. "I wish you would've come for me, the way I would have come for you."

The darkling's breath halted in his throat, words taken away from him like air pulled from his lungs. The raven-haired walked toward the black general, anger and disappointment burning in her eyes as she pointed an accusatory finger at him, poking his chest. "I'm not important to you, in your grand scheme of this am I? Or maybe not even in the small scale. I'm just another pawn of your board, crafted for your convenience and whittled by your lies." Kirigan furrowed his brow, unease prickling his senses, the impatientness and exasperation itching his fingers to summon his power. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes. "No no no." He breathed, brows knitting together, looking at her as if he was scared to lose her. "I care about you." The Oryalen woman had enough of his lies. "No you don't!" She shouted. "One day you want to use me to your advantage and the next, you throw me away, leaving me to rot in a cell! And then someone better comes along and you want to use her like you wanted to use me." The young grisha woman uttered, more silently, disappointment heavy in her voice. "You cannot have me to feel powerful and Alina to feel loved and understood. And if you cannot decide then you cannot have either of us."

The general narrowed his eyes at her, a dangerous, venomous smirk playing on his lips. "Careful. You don't really matter now anymore either." The inferni quirked her eyebrow at his words, her arms folding across her chest defiantly.  "That's your play? It's rather desperate." He leaned in closer, menacingly.  "Think about what I might do." Anya's gaze sharpened, staring daggers at him. "And what would that be?" The shadow summoner stepped back, hands behind his back. "Please tell me again, how was it that you crossed the fold? There were no reports." The raven-haired tensed, staring at him as she did so, an oh-so-sure look on his face. "I had no documents on me, as you can understand. I smuggled myself aboard a skiff, hidden inside one of the cargo boxes." The Oryalen woman felt like he knew. That he had noticed her strange behavior and deduced the truth, like he'd notice everything, never saying a word, hiding in his silence as he listened to those around him. The darkling was dangerous, too dangerous for her to stay. "Do you regret it?" The quest hung heavily in the air, his dark eyes fixated on the young grisha woman. "Do I regret being your toy? You fed me lies and I, like a fool, believed them. So yes, I regret it. Every waking moment of it." His eyes were almost filled with a forlorn look.

The inferni's sleeves slightly rode up her arms and the black general's eyes widened. "What's that?" He stepped forward, a shadow seemingly falling over his face. Anya stepped back, matching his steps backwards, almost like a dance. The hairs on her neck and arms stood up right, her senses screaming for her to get away. "I asked you a question. What. Is. That?" Kirigan hissed through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched. The raven-haired's back hit the wall, her head looked up and her stomache started to churn. The general's hand grabbed ahold of the Oryalen woman's arm, wrenching it away from her body, pulling the sleeve of her kefta down. Darkness enveloped them as fire seemed to rage in between its tendrils, the young grisha woman's amplifier scales and the shadow summoner's bones heeding to each other's call. "How? How do you claim such power?" He snarled. "I did it on my own, no thanks to you." The inferni snapped. "Now let. Me. Go."

Darkness and fire raged on all around them as the darkling refused to let go. "You. Have no power over me." Anya clenched her other fist, nails digging into her skin, power flaring up, something that the black general felt. Kirigan felt the rise in the raven-haired's power but failed to see her fist that bashed into the side of his head, his hand letting go of her arm as he stumbled back, spitting blood on the floor. The general's hand laid on top of a cabinet as he pulled himself back up, rage in his eyes as he spit out a blood curdling laugh. "Are you sure about that?" The shadow summoner stood up, breathing raggedly as he held his head hight, whipping away the blood on his lip. "I gave you everything. I made you who you are!" The Oryalen woman's obsidian eyes were ablaze with anger and disappointment and loss. "And that's a good thing?! YOU TURNED ME INTO A KILLER!" She snarled. "YOU ALREADY WERE ONE WHEN YOU KILLED YOUR BROTHER!"

That was a mistake. Yelling was a mistake. Saying those words was a mistake. The black general knew it from the moment he saw tears form in the raven-haired's eyes. "Anya please..." he started, trying to reign his words back in desperately. Terror overtook his face, his own eyes glazing over, his hand trying to reach out to the inferni, to hold, need her near. 'Love and wanting are a fallacy. The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak.' He thought. She only backed away. "No. There are two types of monsters in the world. The ones that are made and the ones that are born that way. The difference between you and me? I at least know I am the latter." With that she ran out the door, closing it behind her.

Tears streaked down Anya's cheeks violently, breathing becoming more and more irregular, her heart beating rapidly. The voices of those in the ballroom up ahead seemed to fade away to the background before the raven-haired bumped into someone, his concerned brow knitting together. Vasily looked down at her but the words that came out of his mouth weren't ones the Oryalen woman could understand. Pressure build up on her chest, like a tone of bricks that had been dropped on her. Her hands went up to his shoulders, clutching them as if she tries to hang on. "I can't- I can't breathe. Vasily, I can't breathe." The young grisha woman panicked, her flat hand slamming down on her chest. Everything was a blur. She only knew that the blond was leading her away, from the fete, from the darkling, from her friends. He didn't know what to do but he knew that she needed a calm place, away from everything.

The older Lantsov brother closed the door behind him as the inferni sank into a seat. Memories flashed infront of her eyes, like horrid pictures that we pressed into her mind one by one. The barn. The valley. The ice court. Prison. The fold. The feeling of hands clamping down on her as she screamed her voice raw. It wasn't just Anya's body that shook, it was her entire being, rocking in that seat until arms enveloped her. They rocked her in place, the crown prince refusing to let her go as he held her near, her face buried in the crook of his neck. "I'm here." He murmured. "You can talk to me, or not, but I am here." His voice seemed to calm as the raven-haired stopped rocking herself. "You're safe." He added taking her hands into his, handing her a handkerchief as he guided her breathing. She'd be a fool to think Kirigan would not hurt her. Whether with his words or with his actions, he had done both now.

Her breathing steadied, the Oryalen woman wiping her tears away. She squeezed her eyes shut, hands digging into her knees. "I'm fine." She finally managed to bring out. "I'm fine." But somehow it felt like she wasn't saying it to the tsarevich and more to herself. "I need to- I need to go. Alina needs me there." The young grisha woman uttered as she stood up, clearing her throat, her eyes and facial expression returning to their cold look, not a trace of what had happened the mere second before. 'The crows need me there.' Vasily looked a bit skeptical at the inferni after being awoken from his quite drunk stupper. "If you say so." He said as he opened the door.

Anya had ran as soon as she was done with her act and it didn't sit right with the bastard of the barrel in any way. If the job was to succeed, the plan needed to go off accordingly and he needed everyone in their places. Despite having a million back-up plans in case something went wrong of course. He had spilled a drink 'on accident' from the Kerch ambassador on his uniform, a heartrender commanding for him to get changed. It was then that he had grabbed a uniform for Inej and Arkan. The winter fete was still in full swing when Kaz heard a man speak. "I noticed that a certain West-Ravkan general is conspiculously absent. Do you think he was invited?" the Zemeni man asked. "Zlatan? I doubt he'd risk being this far behind enemy lines." the dark haired woman beside him replied. "So it's true? West-Ravka means to secede?" the man asked in shock as his eyes widened.

The young barrel boss didn't pay anymore attention to what they said when the wraith joined him, guarding another open door a bit further down the hall, but his eyes narrowed in the slightest when he spotted the raven-haired returning. She looked okay but dirtyhands saw the minor tremble in her hands before they steadied. Something had gone very wrong in the few minutes the Oryalen woman was absent and he wanted, no, needed to know what it was. But he remembered her words from in the carriage and he remembered his own. 'You're a fool.' the voice in his head whispered tauntingly.

The young grisha woman stood in the ballroom among the many people, Nadia suddenly standing next to her. "Are you okay?" she asked concerned. For a mintue, she thought the tidemaker meant her outburst but quickly realized that she meant the visual abscense of her scars on her face, neck and collarbone. "As fine as I can be I suppose." she replied with a half-hearted smile before she saw the young Starkov woman climb on the dais. Her face was alight, before Kirigan stepped infront of her, looking as if nothing ever happened. 'Two can play this game.' she thought. "Her name is Alina Starkov. And she will bring liberation to us all." The inferni wanted to scoff but she wouldn't not when this was her friend's moment. Darkness enveloped them as the general clapped his hands together, disappearing from the dais.

Orbs of light beamed from her palms, the eyes of all those around her widening. The light danced between her finger tips, tendril from one orb reaching out to the other. They split in her hands, more and more until the sun summoner sent them out into public, people gasping, their eyes widening. She brought them back together before they burst, showering the public in an almost multi-colored light before the light of the ballroom itself returned. For a split second, the room was silent, adrenaline rushing through Anya's veins until one by one, the guests descended on their knees, their hands making the gesture of saints. "Sankta Alina." They all mumbled one by one. "Sankta Alina." The raven-haired whispered with a smile.

______________*~【☀️】~*_____________

The Oryalen woman waited until the Keramzin woman was somewhat alone before approaching her, tapping her on the shoulder. Alina's face turned from surprise to a smile as she saw her friend, her face momentarily faltering when she saw her scars had vanished. "You did great!" The young grisha woman complimented her. "So did you I hear!" The young Starkov woman said with a smile, trying to lighten the spirit. She leaned in, holding her close in a hug. "Be careful." The inferni whispered softly, anxiousness in her voice. "Of what?" The sun summoner asked, confusion striking her face. "Everything."

Anya parted from the Keramzin woman, people slowly crowding around her. "Your fans demand your attention." She remarked, shifting the subject before Alina turning around  sucked into the crowd as she disappeared. The raven-haired took a step back into a more secluded corner until she felt eyed burning into her, a chill creeping up her spine. "You performed magnificently." The Apparat's scratchy voice said, suddenly standing next to her. "You and your friend are becoming quite dangerous, Koroleva Drakon." The Oryalen woman narrowed her eyes at him. "What is that supposed to mean?" The old man chuckled at her words. "I have told your friend this so I say it to you once more." He started.

"There is something far greater than armies. Something strong enough to topple kings and generals. To crumble nations and birth empires." His rat like eyes narrowed at the young grisha woman as a his mouth curled into an unsettling smile. "You have no idea how much larger a role you have to play." The inferni turned her body towards him fully, her chin slightly up in the air as she regarded him sharply. "An what would that be?" The Apparat chuckled once more. "Faith. People are erecting altars for the Sol Koroleva. And they are for you as well." Anya's brows furrowed as he slinked away, going saints know where.

The raven-haired took a deep breath until her obsidian eyes landed on three figures in the distance. Inej's form stood next to the bastard of the barrel, eyes almost going wide from standing near the young Starkov woman. Kaz  however, was not. The young barrel boss' ice blue eyes seemed to dart all over the place. From the other grisha woman, to Pavel's stalking form in the crowd to- her. Their eyes locked from afar as dirtyhands gave an almost unnoticeable nod. 'Sign of life: check.' The Oryalen woman thought, understanding that the last remnants of their plan were getting set in motion. If only things were that simple. The back of the shadow summoner came into view, blue irises in hand as he said something to her, leading her away from the dagger expert and the bastard of the barrel.

The young grisha woman waited for a moment before walking to them, a stream of people suddenly coming in between. "Could you- thanks." As the made her way through the crowd, the inferni finally reached the spot where they were standing. She saw Inej's retreating form going down one of the hallways but Kaz and Pavel were nowhere to be seen. Dread pooled at her stomach, her breathing quickening, her heartbeat accelerating. "No." She breathed out, her voice wavering. Anya's feet carried her as fast as she could, racing through the hallways as she checked ever door, every room, each going by without a sign of the young barrel boss. "Kaz?!" She almost shouted, her hands going through her hair in panic, taking out the chain, when all of a sudden she heard a gutting howl in pain. "KAZ!" The raven-haired yelled, her vocal cords almost raw. She couldn't do it anymore. It had to stop. Grave after grave after grave, the Oryalen woman grew tired of burying her friends. She would not, could not, go through it again.

The young grisha woman's feet had carried her as far as the chapel before she stormed inside, Pavel's unconscious body close to the altar. Dirtyhands kneeled on the ground, pain griping in his leg as he huffed, out of breath his eyes widening when he saw the inferni standing in the doorway. The bastard of the barrel blinked and suddenly she was on her knees infront of him, holding herself back from checking his leg or any wound. "You came back..." ...for me, Kaz wanted to say but the words died on his lips before he could utter them. Anya looked at him quizzically, confused. "Of course I came back for you Kaz." The raven-haired breathed in relief, the young barrel boss trying to calm down and shift his mind from the pain in his leg.

Abruptly, Pavel's hand pulled him up from one of the seats, whisking a flame from one of the candles into his hand. It was as if time started to slow down, as the other inferni cocked his hand back. Before she knew it, the Oryalen woman swiveled around, shielding dirtyhands behind her as she spread her arms wide, ready to take the blow. In a split second, Pavel's dead body dropped to the floor, a dagger deeply embedded in the back of his head. The pair looked up in shock to see the Ghafa woman on top of a balcony, her face looking as if she was angry with herself before she jumped down swiftly. The bastard of the barrel and the young grisha woman walked to the other inferni's body, the three of them hovering over it, the dagger expert left with a haunted look in her eyes.

"This way!" A guard in the distance shouted. Kaz sprung into motion, hobbling over to Inej with the inferni on his heels. "We need to go." He said urgently. The wraith was nailed to the ground, shell shocked. "I- I killed him." She uttered, her voice barely a whisper. "Inej, look at me. Look at me." The young barrel boss repeated. "You saved our lives." His words seemed to wake the Ghafa woman from her stupper, Anya nodding at his words. "If we want to go, we need to go now." The raven-haired said, leading them through an old servants passage. Darkness stretched on for several minutes, the flicker of flames in the Oryalen woman's palms lighting their way.

A few minutes later, the trio emerged out of a door, leading onto the courtyard where they saw Jesper standing not too far away. The gravel crunched beneath their feet, the Zemeni man swiveling around at the sound, smiling when he saw his friends. "You guys okay?" He wondered a bit concerned. "She's real Jesper. She made the light sing." The dagger expert replied mesmerized. "We lost the target." Dirtyhands replied in disappointment. The sharpshooter's features turned into wicked grin as he spoke. "Did we?" He teased with a wink. The bastard of the barrel only rolled his eyes as he grabbed ahold of his cane that sat on top of the driver's seat.

The young grisha woman dusted herself off, hesitantly peeling the deep blue kefta off, tossing it over a tree branch before she felt a tap on her shoulder. The Fahey man stood behind her, a wide grin from ear to ear plastered on his face as he handed her something. Familiar fabric rustled beneath her finger tips, the repair embroidery stitching felt subtly underneath her hands. "My kefta!" The inferni uttered in surprise, her brow furrowing. "Where did you get it?" She wondered. Jesper only cocked his head towards Kaz, who was fixing something on his uniform. "He found it somewhere. Gave it to me for safe keeping." He replied before he stepped on the carriage driver's seat. Inej followed him, partly perched on top of the roof, Anya following her, the young barrel boss grunting as he stepped on and sat besides the Zemeni man. "Do we have a fix on where the target is?" Dirtyhands demanded. The sharpshooter only chuckled, clicking his tongue as the horses trotted into the night.

°°°°°°°°°°°°
Good lord.
This was a whole ass
chapter my guys.
Normally my chapters
are around 4k, maybe 5k
occasionally. But noooo.
Not this one. No this one
is almost 17k. That's
3-4 chapters in one.
But then again, I didn't
wanna split it up.

But I bet y'all
didn't see it coming
right? Like I said,
I hope this chapter
left you all an
emotional mess.
I mean it had EVERYTHING.
From meetings with
Zoya to even Vasily.
(Welcome William Moseley
as my Vasily btw)

It had an encounter
with Baghra.
ANYA FINALLY GOT
HER AMPLIFIER!
IT HAD ANYA PUNCHING
THE DARKLING.
IT HAD SOOOO
MUCH KANYA.
This chapter was
truly iconic.

Let's see, what
else happened?
I turned 19 on
the 16th of June.
I went on vacation.
I have 2,5 retake exams
that I am studying for rn.

I also wanted to participate
with AWS in the Wattys
this year but I'm afraid
I can't finish it on time
before the deadline passes
so maybe next year!

I would have posted
sooner if the wasps
hadn't decided to
bother me during a
barbecue that would have
passed a little faster
if it hadn't been for their
presence. Now it's 1 am as
I post this so I better
wake up to some notifications.
I leave you all to your chaos.

Anyways, now all we've
been waiting for, the memes!