10||EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT IT'S NOW OR NEVER

It was late in the afternoon as the crows stood gathered around a table in an old barn, Kaz's hand tossing the remainder of their coins onto it. "That's all we have left?" Jesper complained. Anya fished the golden chain of half moons that was in her hair during the winter fete out of a pocket, dropping it on the table. "I still have this." Inej hobbled upright to the table, surveying it before pulling up her shirt slightly, taking off the bled through patch as the Zemeni man gagged at the sight. "This is going to need stitching. Jesper hand me my bag." The wraith noted, as she sat down on some hay. "How long until you can travel?" The young barrel boss inquired, tapping his cane as he swallowed uncomfortably at the sight. "Not long. To where?" She asked as she pulled a needle and thread out of her pouch. "Ketterdam."

In a split second, the other three crows silenced at his words, their heads turning to him. "Between our dwindling funds, lack of time and...conflicting interests, it's time we cut our losses." Dirtyhands finished, turning around and closing the creaking door behind him. The Ghafa woman's needle punctured her skin, pulling the thread along as it made the sharpshooter gag. "What? You can handle bullets but you get squeamish at some stitching?" The raven-haired messed with him, knocking her shoulder against his arm. "Well the difference is that-" The Fahey man started, trying not to retch out yesterday's diner. "Bullets are in and out." He finally said.

The Oryalen woman bended down, eyes peering at the wound as she closely inspected it. "Where did you learn how to stitch like this?" The dagger expert grunted as she finished up, sowing herself closed. "I thought myself at the menagerie." She simply replied, something dark passing over her face. "Oh that's dark." Jesper remarked with his brow furrowed in disgust. "And that is exactly why I cannot go back there." Inej added, her voice laced with a thinly veiled panic. "You won't. If Kaz doesn't make sure of it, I will." The young grisha woman reassured, her voice almost threatening as she clasped her friend's hand. "I cannot go back." The wraith emphasised, the other two sharing a look of recognition as their eyes locked.

"What?" She asked as the Zemeni man swallowed, thinking in a rare occasion over what to say. "I was gonna tell you to trust Kaz." Something inside the inferni's mind pulled her back to what the bastard of the barrel once asked of her. 'Trust me.' The sharpshooter's eyes looked sorrowful as he spoke. "But I don't have the right to tell you what to do with your shot at freedom." The Ghafa woman's eyes filled with a sort of sadness, as if she was too afraid to say goodbye. "You two aren't making this easy." She said. The Fahey man only laughed awkwardly, puffing his chest forward slightly. "I know. I'd miss me too if I were gone." Anya and the dagger expert smiled softly when those words left his lips, settling down and leaning against the stacks of crates and hay to get a moments rest.

Jesper went outside, swiftly returning with Kaz's slightly damaged cane, the shimmers of falling dusk breaking through the cracks in the wooden walls, before he turned his back to the raven-haired. A few minutes went by until the Zemeni man stood up, propping the cane against the wall and collapse on a big pole of hay, snoring loudly. "Saints, is it always like this?" The Oryalen woman remarked with an arched eyebrow. Inej had folded her arms underneath her head, looking up. "The slat has thin walls and Ketterdam is never silent, so you get used to the noise eventually." She replied with a smirk.

The young grisha woman's eyes darkened before she spoke, a pressure on her chest begging to be lifted. "Remember when you asked me of I was okay yesterday?" She asked as she clenched her jaw, the wraith turning her head towards her. "Yeah." She acknowledged. "Sometimes I'm afraid he may be right, the darkling." The Oryalen woman mumbled, making the Ghafa woman squint her eyes as she scrunched up her face. "About what?" She wondered, her voice stern. "He basically told me that I am the worst person he's ever met. And he was right." The other woman's tongue clicked in her mouth,mulling over her words.

"That's a bit of an insult you know." The dagger expert replied, irritation written across her face as the young grisha woman furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm sorry?" She replied, unsure what to say. "You really think my ability to judge people is so bad that I can't find a good friend?" She retorted, offended. "You, Anya Oryalen, are a good, caring and nice person. No matter how much you try to convince people otherwise." Inej replied with a half-smile, standing up and grabbing the young barrel boss' cane. "You rode the whole time so get some sleep." She stated simply before disappearing out the door, the inferni drifting in and out of consciousness as sleep finally took her.

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Anya felt a light push in her back, shaking her awake as she stirred to look the person who disturbed her slumber in the eye. The wraith's face peered down at her. "There's some food left, I suggest you get some before Jesper wakes up and eats everything." She joked. With a groan, the raven-haired stood up, stretching as she untangled a piece of hay from her hair, pushing it back, and walked outside into the night air. The young barrel boss sat on a crate near the fire, the flames illuminating his form, framing his face as she sat down. "Hungry?" he simply asked, his tone a little cold. She nodded, grabbing one of the rabbits that was roasting in the fire. "Not bad. I certainly have had way worse on the road." The Oryalen woman remarked with a half-smile, sauce slightly dripping down her chin before she wiped it off, tossing the stick of which the rabbit was hanging a few minutes ago back into the smoldering fire.

Dirtyhands was silent, absent mindedly staring into the fire. "You know what's kinda funny? The first time I got sent out was to Kerch. It was a bit of a disaster at first, because someone had set one of the sails on fire. Not me. Harshaw always had a thing for blowing stuff up but this time was an accident. I think he and Jesper would get along well." The young grisha woman stated with a smirk, swearing she could've seen the memory of her setting fire to the menagerie pass in his eyes with glee.  The inferni looked up, darkness the backdrop of the millions of stars that painted the sky, familiar patterns glinting in them.

When Anya turned her head and looked at him, the bastard of the barrel's face was drained of even the smidge of joy he had in him just a second ago. He clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the head of his cane. Perhaps it was the cold seeping into his bones that annoyed him or perhaps it was something else. The raven-haired thought the later, that he was brooding about something, but stood up and grabbed another log to throw on the fire. "I have something. Something that belongs to Kirigan. Something that might hurt you. But you need to know. You deserve to know." Kaz uttered, his voice almost a whisper. The young barrel boss' mind had contemplated it again, over and over, knowing what would happen. But something inside him had pushed him to the brink. Something inside dirtyhands made him pull out that paper from his coat that he had taken from the general's desk at the little palace. Something inside him made him hand over that envelope to the Oryalen woman. Something inside the bastard of the barrel made him look at her as she folded it open with confusion.

The shadow summoner 's symbol of an eclipsing sun was set into the top of the paper, the following words inscribed on it.

"Hringsa intelligence report #017392-43 otherwise know as Blue Falcon

In regard to previous statements and in light of recent findings, Ravkan spy officers have reported back, having discovered that general Zlatan is indeed planning an uprising.

He has rallied forces on the western side of the fold and intends to turn it into a sovereign nation with himself as their leader. But that is not all. We came upon agreements between Zlatan and the Fjerdan royal family.

The Fjerdans have decided to back Zlatan and his army in the Civil War. In exchange, the separatists will attempt to weaken the second army by misleading grisha soldiers, selling them and info on several operations and locations to drüskelle for capture and enslavement.

Whatever they do with them after they are handed over we don't know, but we can only imagine."

The young grisha woman's breath hitched, intelligence report drifting from her hands as she stared forward, her eyes welling up with tears. Her knees gave away as she sacked to the ground. The inferni wasn't silent like the wind anymore. Instead, a horrible howl of pain tore from her throat as the earth seemed to shatter beneath her feet. The darkling knew. He knew like he had known everything. He had always known the truth. And it was her fault for trusting him. It was her fault for not seeing it earlier. It was her fault that her friends were led to their death. She could feel the bloody handprints that they left behind on her body, she could hear their voices tearing her apart from the inside out.

She once believed she could heal but in that moment, she was truly, completely and utterly broken. The door of the barn burst open, the Ghafa woman and Jesper running out, the latter sagging to the floor as he enveloped her in his arms, steadying her as she clung onto him. The dagger expert picked up the paper, her hand covering her mouth as she read its contents. As Anya's body shook, her sobbing reaching his ears,  Kaz didn't know what to do. He could step aside, give her the space she needed and let the others comfort her but something inside him, that small part of him that yearned for her endlessly wanted him to stay.

The raven-haired looked up, the tears in her obsidian eyes giving away to pure and unyielding rage. When she spoke, it was like her voice was not her own. It was ancient, like dust billowing out of a tomb. "I will find him..." Slowly but surely, the Oryalen woman rose, the fire on the ground growing until it was the size of a bonfire, the one in her chest, the one in her heart, a glowing omen of a forest that would be set aflame. "...And I will ruin him. I will kill him." And there, just for a moment, in the light of the fire and the darkness of the night, she seemed so much like him, as if the shadows wrapped their arms around her. As if she could slink back, step into it and disappear from their sight. Hell wasn't the word for what she would bring down on him. It would be much too lenient.

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As the lights of dawn broke open the sky, it was dead silent. The crows had tried to look and cross the fold the same way Arkan did before the wagon was blown to bits. The young grisha woman didn't hear what they were saying, her mind frozen, her body almost paralysed if it weren't moving on autopilot. She sat out front, handling the carriage once more, not being able to bear their glances of pity. No one had spoken spoken words to her but neither did she speak to them. Her silence, however, counted for a million words left unsaid.

The quartet arrived at an inn in Novokribirsk, the crows going over their plans once more. "The skiff is still here. The people downstairs were complaining." Inej said as she walked inside the room, tossing her scarf on a chair. The inferni's brow furrowed at her words as she looked out the window. "The general's orders probably." The Zemeni man leaned against one of the pillars in the room, his face almost skeptical. "The general? You mean the probably-hundreds-of-years-old shadow summoner that tried to kill us?" He remarked with an awkward laugh."I punched his tooth out at the winter fete." Anya blurted out, earning stares from the others in the room.

"What's your plan exactly? It's not like you can go after him." The wraith noted with crossed arms, the raven-haired sending a withering glare her way. "And if I am? If Kirigan really ordered for no skiff to leave the docking stations, it means he is planning something. And if he is planning something it means-" her eyes went wide with realisation. "He has Alina." Her breath hitched for a split second before she regained herself. "I will not let another person suffer at his expense. And it's not like it matters to any of you, does it?" The Oryalen woman snapped. 'It does to you, doesn't it?' A voice whispered in a mockingly sad tone in the young barrel boss' mind.

The only one who didn't seem even mildly surprised of the other three crows was dirtyhands, earning a stare that could throw daggers from the Ghafa woman. "Was this you plan along? Hoping the black general would get Alina back just so you could snatch her from under his nose again?" She demanded with anger, sneering at him. "My only plan is to cross the fold. Once we land in Novokribirsk it is your choice what we do next." The bastard of the barrel simply stated as he looked her right in the eye. "We will need to blend in if we plan on boarding the skiff. Any idea on who might get on it?" He asked the dagger expert once more, the look in her eyes no longer filled with the threat of getting daggers chucked at his head. "Dignitaries from Kerch and Novyi Zem on their way home."

Kaz leaned back in his chair, his scheming face on as he mulled over his thoughts. "Good. We'll ambush them, I'll edit their paper and we'll take their place." He seemed almost hesitant to say his next words, hesitant to let the words leave his lips as if that would finalise everything. But he didn't anyway, and he did so without showing any emotion. "Anya, what do you plan on doing?" When she finally looked at him again, his ice blue eyes locked with the swirling darkness of her obsidian ones. "Infiltrate the camp. If Alina isn't on the skiff already, I'll find her. After that..." The Oryalen woman trailed off, looking down at the floor as she crossed her arms. "We'll probably never see you again, right?" The sharpshooter replied, his voice tinged with discontent, dissapointment striken across his face. The young grisha woman nodded as she clenched her jaw. "Seems like it."

It was silent as the group split, a sadness to see one go hanging in the air. Inej grabbed ahold of the inferni by her shoulders, her dark brown eyes worrisome. "If you ever need to lay low from all this..." she started, almost not able to finish her sentence. The other woman wrapped her in a hug, tightly holding her. "I'll know where to find you, Inej. Don't worry." Anya replied with a smile. As she turned, the Fahey man seemed unbothered, not looking at her until she made him. "I'm gonna miss your murderous little presence. If you're ever in Ketterdam and in dire need of some fun, please come to me first." He joked, embracing her with his towering form, making the raven-haired smile.

As the Oryalen woman turned to the young barrel boss, he did not say a word or even move so much as an inch, his face stoic as ever. "We need to go or the window on the targets will close." The wraith and Jesper turned their heads, looking at the young grisha woman with a semblance if pity and regret in their eyes that the had to leave. She bit the inside of her cheek as she watched them go, the door closing behind them. 'Go after them.' A voice in her head whispered. But she didn't move as she heard them walk away. 'Go back to her.' A voice whispered inside dirtyhands' head. But he kept moving ahead, his jaw clenched.

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A few minutes has gone by, as she gathered her things, putting the dagger back inside its sheath. Her fingers skimmed the surface of her arms, the scales poking up in some places. Maybe, just maybe, they would help her put an end to this. An end to him. The inferni grabbed the broken chain of half moons back up, unhooking one of them as she went downstairs, paying for one more drink of kvas before she'd go. 'Liquid courage.' She told herself before downing it in a swift movement. Deftly unhooking another half moon, she walked out of the inn, her head turning around her as she headed for a stable not too far from here. The lock was molten of in a split second, leaving the half moon as compensation.

Suddenly, the crunch of footsteps sounded from behind her, each step followed by a familiar tap on the ground. Anya didn't need to turn around to know who it was, knowing very well he could've snuck up on her without making a sound. He wanted her to know that he was there. "So you are leaving?" Kaz's voice spoke from behind her. "Does it really matter now?" Anya replied solemly, her voice cold as she sadled the horse. Once more, no reply came from the young barrel boss, only making her take a deep breath. It was as if they were drowning under the waves of words that they left unsaid. The raven-haired swung ontop of her horse and as dirtyhands' eyes rested on her, he studied her face, following the bent of her nose, the way strands of hair fell in front of her face, following the form of her eyes that looked as if they held millions of untold stories in them.

"Goodbye Kaz Brekker." The Oryalen woman spoke, the barest hint of a smile on her face, something fleeting through her eyes so quick he missed it before he knew what it was. The groves of her scars were returning and whatever they had done to her was starting to fade. "No mourners." He whispered, not expecting her to reply. "No funerals." She said, kicking the horse gently as it shot out. 'Turn around.' The voice inside the young grisha woman's head pleaded with her. 'Ask her to turn around.' A voice seemed to shout inside the bastard of the barrel's head. But neither Kaz nor the inferni ever did what they were told to do, one turning around and the other riding on under the cover of darkness.

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When the rays of dawn finally shone upon Anya once more, she had just arrived at the outskirts of the camp, studying the comings and goings for hours. Now she laid low in the tall grass, half veil covering her face and eyes meticulously scanning the rows upon rows of second and first army tents in the camp, not too far away from the docks in Novokribirsk. Alina was there somewhere, she had to be. The raven-haired was starting to think she was insane for trying this, but it wasn't like she had much of a choice. Slowly but surely, she crawled closer until she had reached the nearest tent, hearing a mumbling in it. "Did you hear? The sun summoner is here!" A female voice uttered in elation. The other one grunted, as if he were skeptical. "Tear down the fold and then we'll talk." he grumbled. "You are a sour puss." The woman mumbled underneath her breath, making the Oryalen woman almost laugh.

The flap of the tent seemed to open before she slinked back in the shadows of the next tent, the man that was inside passing. He was older but not to tall, almost the same built as the young grisha woman, as much as she could determine with his Oprichnik overcoat, an onyx furr hat ontop of his hat. In a split second, she had grabbed ahold of him, pinching high in the back of his neck as he started to slump down, only to recover quickly. He threw out a punch, the inferni ducking before  punching him in the stomache as he doubled over. Rain started to pour from the sky, the man swiping her legs from under her. He pulled her half veil from her face, holding her down. A sickening feeling washed over her as he did so, realizing he had seen her face as well.

Anya could not let him live. "You-" he started with wide eyes, taken aback before the raven-haired used the moment and kneed him in the groin, shoving him off her as he slid several inches away in the mud. "Me." she hissed before pulling out her dagger. The Oprichnik looked at her, fear and anger shining in his eyes. He swung out once more, the Oryalen woman easily side-stemping him. She ducked under his arms, suddenly behind before the blade of her dagger slit across his throat, the man gurgling as he fell down. His eyes pleaded with her as pain seared through his body, feeling as if he was burning up, tears brimming his eyes. It almost made the young grisha woman feel sorry for him.

She bowed down, one knee in the mud as she looked at him. "Where is Alina Starkov?" The man shook his head, more blood gurgling up. "If you tell me I can end your prolonged suffering." He took a stuttering breath, shaking his head. "I...don't know...Her friend..." he pointed to a far off tent, across the camp before his hand slumped down. "...is there." the Oprichnik sputtered, coughing up more blood. The inferni parted his overcoat before raising her dagger high, plunging it into the man's heart, his chest heaving one last time, his last breath a visible cloud into the cold air. She swallowed, closing his eyes before taking the overcoat and furr hat before dusting them off, quickly blending in.

Anya pulled the overcoat's neck up high, closing it so no one saw her kefta, keeping her head low as she crossed the camp. The light of day was starting to fade and the entrance to the tent was turned to the other side, pointing to another set of them near the edge. The raven-haired lifted a flap in the back, peaking through. When she looked inside, it wasn't the one Oprichnik at the entrance that rooted her in place, deprived her of the ability to move even a muscle or caught the breath in her throat. There, in the middle of the tent, stood Kirigan. His back was turned to the Oryalen woman, but she could see Alina's friend, remembering her vivid description of Mal, and heared what they were saying. "She'll realize that she has only one equal. That there are no other's like us." The general stepped forward menacingly, bowing down slightly as he looked at the tracker down his nose. "And that there never will be. I don't need to. Time will do it for me." He turned to go, walking out before the man from Keramzin rattled is chains standing up. "YOU'LL WISH YOU KILLED ME HERE!" He screamed at the top of his lungs.

The young grisha woman took deep breaths, steadying herself, steadying her hands as a minute, 5 minutes, 10 minutes went by. When she looked inside again, the corporal had a piece of bread in his hand, trying to lure an animal in. "Is that-?" The inferni muttered before a small goat hobbled inside with a bullet on a string around his neck, nibbling away at the bread. The Oretsev man took the bullet, looking around before slipping it into one of his bonds and slamming down on it with a bang. The Oprichniki guard that had fallen asleep, stoop up from his chair, pointing his rifle at him. 'Saints.' Anya cursed before sleeping into the darkness, crawling to the entrance. Mal sat on the ground adrenaline rushing through his veins faster than ever as he stared down the barrel of the guard. "Trying to escape are we?" He jeered. Suddenly, a figure emerged behind him, slamming her arm down on his elbow. The rifle skittered out of his hands as the raven-haired socked him in the face, putting her hands on either side of his head before twisting it with a sickening crunch and broke his neck.

"Who the hell are you?" The tracker inquired, brow furrowed as she bowed over the last cuff. "A friend of Alina's. Now if you could just turn your head please, thank you." The Oryalen woman snapped her fingers, flames blossoming to life in her palms. She moved her hands like she had when crossing the fold, the fire bending around her fingers as she broke the now half molten cuff. The Keramzin man looked at her skeptical before she raised an eyebrow. "If you want to live follow me." She stated coldly. "We can't get to Alina." The Oretsev man complained. "Believe me, I've tried. The only way we can get to her is if we are on that skiff." The young grisha woman bit her lip, thinking over a plan.

"We'll need to hide in the cargo. It's the only way we can get it." Mal nodded at her words as the two ran in between the shadows. After what felt like an eternity, the duo had managed to sneak into the cargo hold of the shadow summoner's skiff, the camp quickly coming to life in the early hours. "Quick, give me lift." She whispered to the tracker, motioning her head to a tall containment casket. Her arched an eyebrow but put his hands together anyway, knowing after the display in the tent not to mess with her. Quickly, the inferni vaulted inside, the Keramzin man hiding just in time as the floor seemed to shift right underneath their feet. Suddenly, all light had vanished and Anya knews that they had entered the fold once more.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Pain, pain, pain
and more pain.
I enjoy this way
too much hehehehe.

God, writing this was
quite something.
I came up with the idea
for the intelligence report
While studying for my
end of the year exams in June
and also on an SAB rewatch
for taking notes.

I really wanted to be this
heartbreaking this and I
hope that it was!

Part of my visual inspiration
was the heartbreaking scene
in Jane The Virgin where
Jane gets the call that
Michael is dead.
God that was painful for
my team Michael heart.

Me being me, I also watched some
sad SAB edits and songs
that hit home. Like Oblivion
by M83 for example.
So I hope that the end result
of everything layered upon
everything, was powerful.

The attentive readers will have
noticed a few of the hints
I dropped in a few chapters leading
leading up to this moment.

Now, as for this chapter,
I really hope you guys enjoyed it
because soon the battle for the fold
and for the future will commence.
Are you guys ready for it?