ZOYA'S SQUALLER WIND barreled hard into the target on the opposite side of the Summoner's pavilions, breaking it into pieces. The resounding crack of the wood was loud even twenty feet away. Zoya pivoted on her heels with a laugh, smiling at Freya and extending her arms out in a 'told you so' gesture. Clapping could be heard from the onlookers, but neither of them paid any mind to them.

At just fourteen years old, Zoya was already one of the most powerful Squallers the Little Palace had. She had quickly become one of the General's favourites, just as Freya had. Because of that, the two of them had – as Luca often called it – worshippers. Grisha students who were not as powerful or favoured flocked to them in hopes of befriending them.

It was a bit ridiculous in Freya's mind, as she did not feel that special in her day-to-day life. That changed only when she used her power and she knew that she was the only one that could do it. It was the only time she felt special. Not when the General came to watch her train or when she received compliments from other Grisha children. She did not want to feel special most of the time. It was a strange feeling that she disliked.

"Your turn," Zoya said with a pointed look in the direction of another target placed beside the already destroyed one. Freya nodded, stepping forward to the line marked in the grass with yellow paint.

With a deep inhale, she lifted her hands in front of her and focused. She felt the molecules of the air, every ripple of them that creates sound around her. The swishing of the grass in the window, Zoya's soft inhales and exhales, her own heartbeat. And then she pulled, and the waves of sound rushed towards her hands. With a swift movement of her hand, she compressed the waves until they were running rampant in a tight ball. The ringing they caused would have been enough for her to cover her ears once, but she had grown used to it over the seven years she had spent in the Little Palace.

Then, when she felt the waves of sound were compressed tight enough together, she shot the ball out. The sphere was invisible to the human eye, but she felt the sound fighting to expand, to break free of her grip on it. Still, she held it tightly until it was close enough to the target. And then she pulled them outwards. A loud boom – as if a bomb had exploded – sounded from where the target was. And the target itself was torn apart.

Freya smiled, turning back to Zoya. More clapping came from the onlookers, but Freya did not care. While Zoya thrived on the attention she got, it felt more suffocating to Freya than it did freeing.

"Good, both of you," the Etherealki teacher told them, her blue kefta swaying in the wind. She looked down at a watch that was strapped around her wrist quickly. She turned to the rest of the Etherealki students. "Lesson's over, you're free to go." Freya doubted the three hours the Etherealki students spent at the pavilions could be called a lesson. Lessons ended the moment a Grisha could use their power well enough to not have to think about it too much. Training is what followed. An endless drill of summoning and breaking targets and facing off against each other until it was decided they were old enough to go out and face the real battle.

Zoya's arm wrapped around Freya's own and she began dragging her away from the pavilions without a moment of hesitation. Her blue kefta and rich raven hair swayed at her brisk walk, and it was just another one of many things that were perfect about her.

"Come, I promised Luca and David we'd meet them under the oak." Zoya's grip on her arm tightened as she pulled her towards a path that led to the forest around Baghra's hut – and in turn, a great oak where Zoya, Freya, Luca and David often met.

Freya's friendship with Luca had blossomed over the years, though she was not quite sure how that had happened. He had used to be so cold towards her, but he was like that towards everyone in the years following his manifestation as a Corporalki. Eventually, they were forced into close quarters enough times that the ice around his heart melted and a quiet understanding came between them. After that, it was only a few short months until Freya could draw a smile out of him.

Soon enough, he had even joined her when Zoya was around, something that neither of the girls had expected. The Suli Squaller was just another obstacle that Luca had to cross to gain his father's attention and favour – something that seemed to come and go as often as the seasons changed – and for him to actually become friends with her has seemed something out of a fairytale. Despite that, the two of them bonded over their shared favourite hobbies of proving they were better than everyone else and having a cult-like following among their Grisha peers.

The only other close friends Luca seemed to have was the quirky and silent David who spent more time lost in his head than he did in  the real world and bubbly Vanya with hair as golden as the sun. David was the favourite student of Luca's mother, and so they often met in Katya's classroom when David stayed after class and Luca came to see her. He was also the only one that had enough patience and interest to listen to David's constant rambling about his experiments.

It was a wonder, really, how the two of them could talk science and facts for hours when Freya could barely keep focus for five minutes.

Vanya was another Heartrender, placed into a pair with Luca like all Heartrenders eventually were. They trained together until they could recognize each other's heartbeats without thinking until they knew the other by breath alone and could predict every move they were going to make before the thought even occurred in their heads. Vanya was a cheerful girl, seemingly never sad or upset by anything. Freya didn't think she'd ever seen Vanya frown even the slightest bit.

In that aspect, the girl reminded Freya of Fedyor. Constantly smiling. Constantly cheerful. Freya wondered if Fedyor still acted like that, now that he was on the front. He had been placed there four years prior with Ivan as his partner and she hadn't seen him since. From the letters he sometimes sent, she could tell his plan of befriending Ivan and making him fall undeniably and irrevocably in love with him was at a standstill. Not that it mattered, Fedyor would keep trying until his last breath.

As Zoya and Freya approached the great oak that stood a few feet from the path to Baghra's hut, the two of them could already hear Vanya's bright laugh. They saw her golden hair a few moments later, and then three bodies clad in red and purple respectively.

David was, as always, writing something down in his journal of ideas and plans, not even noticing the two of them approaching until Zoya plopped down onto the grass and scared him half to death. Luca was leaning against the trunk of the oak, fiddling around with a silver and amethyst ring in his hand. It belonged once to his mother, he had said, but she had given it to him. It was beautiful and shimmered perfectly in the sunlight. Luca always wore it on a chain around his neck to make sure he did not lose it.

He wore nothing gifted to him by his father. Their relationship had not gotten much better. Freya could not tell entirely whose fault it was now. After years of many arguments, Luca crying in her bed and the General's strange but somewhat heartfelt attempts to reconcile, it was impossible to tell who pushed away whom now.

The General had undeniably started it – why, Freya would never understand – after Luca manifested as a Corporalki and not a Shadow Summoner. Afterwards, there were many months of tension until Luca inescapably snapped from the pressure on his mind and heart. What followed was a screaming match, then a cold dismissal, Luca's sobbing form in her bed as she and Zoya tried to comfort him to no avail. Then it all repeated.

At some point, Luca had inevitably come to the point where he did not react to harsh words or indifferent behaviour from his father. A way for his heart to protect itself, most likely. To save himself from the pain and the disappointment.

Now, Luca did not even glance at his father unless he needed to. Still, he could not hide the grimace on his face every time his father paid more attention to a completely different Grisha instead of him. When it came to Zoya and Freya, he had almost gotten used to it. Maybe it was because they were his friends, or maybe it was because he had witnessed his father favour them so many times that it no longer held any weight for him.

"How was training?" Vanya asked when Freya settled down on the grass, smoothing out the blue fabric of her kefta. The top half of her hair was pulled into a tight bun at the crown of her head, the rest of her golden hair left loose in relaxed waves. Freckles dotted her sun-kissed skin, seemingly making her already bright green eyes even brighter. She leaned back on her arms with her legs splayed out wildly, looking directly at Zoya and Freya as she waited for an answer.

"Fine," Zoya said with a dramatic sigh, "blasting targets, dodging attacks, then blasting more targets. When are we going to try something new?" Freya had to agree. While the Materialki and Corporalki were always learning new things, it felt like the Etherealki were limited to just tossing their powers about until they learned how to control them well enough.

Luca, as if reading her mind and wanting to make her all the more jealous, shrugged his shoulder and said, "Veranovsky is having us stop hearts and then restart them after three minutes." Zoya raised her brow as if she doubted his words. "We're trying it on animals first, of course," he added, grinning when Freya tossed her head back in annoyance.

"This is so stupid!" she exclaimed, tossing her head back in annoyance. "When I was brought here I was told I'm this special new Grisha whose powers had to be properly explored and studied, but here I am seven years later and I feel like I've explored nothing!" It was true, Freya had not learned anything other than the pure basics. Maybe the General expected her to discover things on her own, but how was she meant to do that when she was limited to the usual Etherealki training? "I can blow up targets as much as I want and I can play a pleasant tune with a flick of my hands, but that's it."

Zoya nodded in agreement, curling her lip up in annoyance. Her raven hair glistened beautifully in the small rays of sunlight that filtered onto the ground through the oak leaves.

"You could try practising on your own," David suggested, torn out of his thoughts and scribbling for the first time since Freya and Zoya arrived. "That's what I do." He instantly looked down, biting the inside of his cheek. Freya smiled at him, finding his awkwardness rather adorable.

"I suppose," Zoya agreed, examining her cuticles. "But where? I can't very well practice out in the pavilions without supervision! Only actual soldiers are allowed that." A precaution so the entire Little Palace wouldn't end up on fire, flooded, or subjected to a tornado.

Freya grinned and grasped Zoya's hand in her own. "We'll figure it out."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It was that very same night that Zoya decided they would 'figure it out'. Her idea of it seemed to be waking up in the middle of the night and dragging Freya from her bed, tossing a robe in her face and demanding she hurry up as if she didn't just wake up. A slight chill ran over Freya's body when she slipped from under her very warm and comfortable bed. She looked at it longingly but wrapped herself in the robe Zoya had given her and did as she was told.

Zoya somehow managed to look impeccable even past midnight. Her raven hair did not seem the least bit ruffled by sleep and there were no dark bags beneath her eyes. She even manages to smile her usual charming – and admittedly half-cruel – grin.

"Where are we going?" Freya whispered when Zoya cracked open their door the slightest bit, staring out into the hallway. It was late and there would probably be no one else wandering around. There were only a few of the General's soldiers that came and went at night, usually with important messages, but the Darkling's war room was on the other side of the Little Palace.

"To the woods," Zoya answered, and Freya debated just turning around right then and there and going make to sleep. "Don't give me that look! Where else are we supposed to practice without getting caught?" She pushed the door open wider and slipped out into the hall, her slippered feet practically silent across the floor. Freya doubted she had any choice but to follow.

Just as she had expected, they got out of the palace unseen, surrounded by shadows and silence. The moment they stepped out of the warm interior of the palace, a chilly wind blew in their direction. It pushed Freya's pale blonde hair from her face and she instantly regretted not tying her hair back first. She quickly pushed her slightly ruffled hair down with her hands and then pushed it behind her ears.

The woods near Baghra's hut seemed ominously dark as they approached, the shadows that the trees cast sharp and jagged as they spread over the floor. The moon was almost at its fullest and its white light shone down on them. It illuminated the path just enough that they could see where they were going.

They did not walk along the path that led to Baghra's hut, instead walking along the grass and around the small stone building. Smoke was coming out of the chimney and a small candlelight was visible from one of the very small windows. The woman liked her home to seem like a cave, it seemed. An overly heated cave, so her students could be uncomfortable in every aspect possible.

Pain and discomfort were her ways of teaching. Subconsciously, Freya rubbed her knuckles. It almost felt like the cane was being brought down upon her hand right then and there. She almost thought that if she would look down at her pale hands, they would be covered in bruises and crusted blood.

"What are you two doing out here?" a sharp and gravelly voice spoke from the shrubbery. Freya jerked where she stood, her heart jumping and then tumbling to the pit of her stomach. Zoya instinctively lifted her hands into a summoning position. Good, Freya could almost hear their summoning teacher saying. Just another child soldier to send into the King's pointless war.

Freya stepped back, unsure of who the person who spoke was. Then the shrubbery was pushed aside and the person stepped into a small pool of moonlight that gathered on the forest floor. The colour drained from her face. They should have known better than to go past the woman's home. They should've known better than to do any of this at all. She should have known better. Even after seven years of living in the Little Palace, she could still very easily be viewed as a foreigner who was trying to desert the army before she even fought in a single skirmish.

Baghra's greying hair shined in the moonlight, her dark eyes flicking between Zoya and Freya as if she were a predator choosing its next meal. She truly did look terrifying, despite being an old woman.

"We were taking a walk." Freya fumbled her words but managed to push them out eventually. It would be fine, she told herself. It had to be fine. Yes, she was a foreigner, but the General did not have another summoner like her in his ranks. Surely he would not wish to get rid of her. Even the King – whose reputation as a ruler and a man left a great deal to be desired – would not subject her to any cruel punishment. Those same thoughts repeated themselves in her mind even as Baghra laughed sharply.

"You play with your little finger when you lie, girl," Baghra hissed, stepping closer to the pair of them. "It is not wise to lie to me. I can always tell." The older woman then focused her eyes on Zoya, who still managed to look rather defiant. Her arms were crossed and her chin was stuck up in an angle that screamed 'I am better than you' in every possible way. "Was this your idea?"

"No! It was mine, I promise!" Freya was quick to argue. She did not know where her words were coming from. She had never been one to lie. It was not the honest way, her mother had taught her that much. She would rather be bluntly rude than untruthfully kind, though she had often stamped on those beliefs of hers to protect herself. Now, it seemed, the instinct to protect herself was gone, and her need to save her friend grew with every waking moment.

Zoya looked at her in disbelief, opening her mouth to say something. Baghra was much faster though, and she turned to Freya again. She looked down at her hands as if expecting Freya to be rubbing her fingers together nervously again. She had been right before, Freya did do that when she lied. A nervous habit she had not even realised she had until she was around eight.

"Then tell me what you are doing here past curfew. Or would you prefer for me to get the General to resolve this matter?" Freya slowly exhaled, willing her heart to slow and for the panicked ache of her lungs to subside. She took a leaf out of Zoya's book and lifted her chin slightly. It was the smallest of movements, but Freya had been a firsthand witness to how it could completely change the way one was perceived.

"I am sure the General had better things to do than to chastise two girls for breaking curfew," Freya said, swiping a hand down the fabric of her robe. "I only wanted to practice summoning some more and convinced Zoya to come with me. I figured we would not harm anyone if we were farther away from the palace and in the woods so we could practice."

"You can practise during your lessons. Not unattended in the middle of the woods alone," Baghra argued, looking ready to lift the cane in her hands and demand Freya to put her hands out willingly for a beating.

"The only thing we do during our lessons is do the same things over and over again," Zoya scoffed and Freya almost flinched. She had never thought someone could use such a haughty tone in Baghra's presence and live to tell about it. Perhaps Zoya would not, and retribution was still coming. "I am the best Squaller in our year and Freya has a completely new Grisha power! How are we meant to expand our talents if we are held back by those lesser than us?"

Baghra let out another sharp laugh that sounded more like a cackle. "You are far too proud for your own good, girl." She turned towards her hut and began walking towards it. "You two better get back to your beds, unless you want the General to really hear about what the two of you were doing out here tonight." Then, as if she had not been there at all, she disappeared into her hut and banged the door shut.

Freya exhaled slowly, then turned to look at Zoya. Her friend was just as frozen in place as she was. They just stood there for a few moments, before they nodded at each other and turned back towards the Little Palace.

Neither wanted to test Baghra's patience. Or the General's wrath.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It was a few days later that the General called Freya to his war room. Instantly, she assumed the worst. This was it, then. She would be killed for her insolence. Not even Zoya's comforting hand on her shoulder or Luca's warm calming gaze on her as he led her to his father's war room could absolve her of any of those thoughts. She pressed her fingers hard into her palms. So hard that it was a surprise her nails did not split the skin there. Still, they left deep crescent indents. She focused on the pain instead of her own worries.

Just as they always were, two Heartrenders stood in front of the large ebony doors that led to the General's war room. A few grey-clad Oprichniki stood guard as well, their faces as still and cold as a statue's. One of the Heartrenders knocked on the door before he opened it for her. It was strangely reminiscent of the day she was brought to the Little Palace. Surrounded by guards, escorted by a Heartrender dressed in red and black, terrified out of her mind. When she stepped inside the room, another thing was the same. The General did not look angered, but rather intrigued. But he never did look angry, she told herself. Even when an air of annoyance and contempt rose around him, his face remained unaltered.

Freya wondered distantly if the case was the same when he and Luca argued, or if that was one of the only times he allowed his emotions to show properly. Or perhaps he only did that with Luca's mother. She had never seen the two interact, but each time Freya entered Katya's classroom in the Grisha school, there were fresh hyacinths in a vase, and Luca had admitted that his father sent them weekly. If the General did not show his emotions or his thoughts in front of his soldiers and students, certainly he had to do so before his family.

That did not matter now, though, as he approached her with a slow step and his hands folded behind his back. Freya felt her spine subconsciously straighten as he got closer, and she had to force herself to breathe evenly.

"Baghra has told me of your late-night excursion with Zoya," the General's voice came after a painful moment of silence. Freya allowed her eyes to fall shut as she exhaled. Of course, she had told him. She should have known better than to think Baghra would do any differently from any of the other Grisha in the palace. The General knew everything. It was only a matter of time before he knew this too.

"I apologise, moi soverenyi," she said, training her eyes forward when she opened them again. It was becoming increasingly hard to keep her breathing even, but she still managed to do it. "It will not happen again." The General's only answer was hum. The sound was enough to send a shiver of fear down Freya's spine.

General Kirigan was standing in front of her now, his striking quartz eyes staring directly at her. "She also told me about your... concerns." Freya blinked, unsure if she should say something in the following silence. Before she could, the General spoke again. "I must admit that you are correct. I should not have allowed you to train alongside the other Summoners."

Freya's mind came to a screeching halt. She did not quite know what to say, how to react, how to move or show any signs of life other than the shallow rise and fall of her chest. The General's eyes pinned her in a place as a bug collector did to a butterfly's wings. If she moved or showed any sign of disobedience, perhaps he would cut her in half with his shadows, or strangle her with them, or do anything with them that would lead to her death.

But none of that happened, because she stayed perfectly still and waited for the General to say whatever he had planned to say. To carry out his will, even if that be physical retribution for breaking the rules of the Palace. Better her than Zoya or anyone else.

Just as Freya was expecting him to raise a hand to strike her, to do anything, really, he turned on his heel and walked towards the great round war table and walked towards it. There were multiple chairs that surrounded it, and across one of them, there was a blue piece of clothing that was tossed over the backrest. The General picked it up carefully as if it would fall apart if he held it too tightly, and made his way back to her.

"You will have separate classes from now on. You are not like the other Summoners and we do not know what you are capable of. I would like to find out," the General told her, and then carefully showed her the blue piece of clothing. It was not just any ordinary clothing item, though. It was a sapphire blue kefta, made of silk instead of corecloth and longer than a normal kefta resembling a gown more than what the Grisha soldiers wore. And it had embroidery the colour of amethysts running over its shoulders, the ends of its sleeves and the hem of the skirt. "The King has demanded you be presented before the court this coming winter fete."

Freya reached out her hand gingerly, running her hand over the blue fabric and violet embroidery. "It's so light," she found herself saying before she could stop herself. And she was not lying. The fabric was almost like a feather in her hands. So unlike the heavy kefta, she wore at that very moment.

"You will wear a shirt made of corecloth beneath it and there will be guards around you at all times," the General reassured her. It was not the first time he had tried to convince her she was safe, and although her safety was not what she had in mind when she brought up the lightness of the fabric, she was glad that she had some form of reassurance. She had not left the Little Palace in seven years. Had not seen much of Ravka at all at that time. Saw only glimpses of Os Alta and the Grand Palace from the highest towers of the Little Palace. And now she was meant to step out in front of a ground of nobles, all of whom would look at her as not only something strange, something to be scared of all because she was a Grisha but as a foreigner. A girl born in Fjerda.

And if they asked her about her upbringing, what was she to say? Her mother was a healer in a backwater village at the border between Fjerda and Ravka. Her father was a drüskelle, one of the soldiers who killed the Grisha and the First Army soldiers sent into the war. She was a commoner, not an ounce of noble blood in her veins. Just another thing for them to turn up their noses at.

"And what of Zoya?" Freya asked though she was not entirely sure she had any right to ask for anything. The General carefully pulled the silk kefta away from her and set it down again. Freya still could not turn her gaze from it. The nerves at the end of her fingers tingled with the memory of the softness of the fabric.

"Zoya is ambitious, but I cannot make any exceptions for her," the General said, folding his arms behind his back once again. "If I did that with every student that wished to be different, there would be no order in the Second Army. She must content herself with the lessons she had now and accept that experience can only come with time." Freya did not reply, for there was nothing to say. She had expected this answer. And the General was not entirely wrong. "You may go now, Freya. Your first lesson starts tomorrow."

"Thank you, moi soverenyi." She would be lying if she said there was not a spike of excitement in her belly when the door closed behind her.

Author's Note

Choosing between book!Darkling's striking quartz eyes and show!Darkling's mesmerising black eyes had been TOUGH ngl. Next chapter is the winter fete and the first meeting with Nikolai!

This was edited at midnight so please excuse any mistakes!