03||ALL HAIL THE SAINTS

(please note that old ravkan will be used in this chapter and will be marked like this "hello." This is not the same as inner thoughts that are marked like this 'what?')

'She's feral that girl.'

'If she's the one that's
going to dispel the fold
then I am the queen of Ravka.'

'Look at her horrid mug.'

These were but a few of the whispers thrown at her head that Anya would hear almost daily. Except for the select few that the raven-haired considered friends, most grisha students despised her, having heard rumors about what happened before she arrived at the little palace.

Wind dusted and raged in between the little palace and its open spaces, whipping the long, dark hair of the young girl around as she wiped her brow. Her feet shifted in position, the gravel underneath moving with her. "Is that all you got?" Anya shouted at the top of her lungs. The group that had surrounded the raven-haired had dealt her several blows but nevertheless, she kept standing, socking two of them knock out right of the bat. "Try me." The Oryalen girl challenged with a smile, spitting the blood out of her mouth as it left a copper taste behind.

'Show us how strong you are runt!' The group shouted when they had first approached the inferni. What the group had wanted was a fight but they came looking for it at the wrong address. One of them, a tidemaker boy, darted forward with a shout, his fist aiming for the girl's face. Anya tsk'ed him, ducking to the side before latching her hand around his wrist and planting her other hand in between his shoulder blades and shoved him down. He screamed it out as something popped, probably his arm getting dislocated from the blow.

"Who else wants to pick a fight huh?" She sneered as she stood back up, spreading her arms wide as if she was daring them to hit her. Another inferni snapped forward, flames slipping from in between her gloved fingers. Rushing at her, the blonde threw fire shot after fire shot, the raven-haired annoyed as the girl was persistent despite her deflecting every single one of her attacks. Her hands flew together to make a complicated gesture, an enormous ball of flames erupting from his finger as he flung it at the Oryalen girl.

Extending her hands infront of her, the enormous flames had engulfed them, wrapping itself around her. The smoke was thick and dark and once it had cleared all they could see was Anya standing on the same spot, the ground around her completely scorched that it was boiling, the fire from the other inferni coiled around her arms like a snake with its giant head resting in her palms.

The blonde's eyes widened in shock at the sight, having expected the raven-haired to have a boiling skin. But there was nothing except for the devastation around her. Her eyes were blown wide with anger and hurt. She would never show others her weaknesses or she would become even more of a target. "Wanna try again?" The Oryalen girl rasped tiredly, raising her first as she took on a fighting stance before the group ran away.

Dark eyes regarded her from behind a window afar, squinting at the inferni. Anya shivered, as if she knew that someone was watching her. Turning around she locked eyes with the mysterious figure behind the window. She knew him, she had heard of him and the things he had done. It was the black general and he had just witnessed her enormous display of power.

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To say that the walk back and the arrival at the crow club was tense would be an understatement. Who wouldn't be if a million kruge was on the line, you had to kidnap a saint from one of the most secure places in the world, cross a region full of shadow monsters and prove that you have found a way through in less then 6 hours?

To say that Anya wasn't comfortable internally after hearing the news, to say Kaz wasn't agitated with having to rush a job, to say Inej wasn't nervous to leave Ketterdam without Heleen approval, to say that Jesper wasn't skeptic about the job, it would all be a grave understatement.

The Oryalen woman sat down at the bar once more, her hands stroking over the mahogany wood that was full of cuts and stabs. 'Relatable.' She thought to herself. The long, sluggish figure, who she had come to known was nicknamed the sharpshooter, plopped besides her with a slightly faltering grin on his face. "Care for nursing a drink Anya?" Jesper questioned as he poured himself one. He spoke to her so calmly and with familiarity that it was almost a comfort to her. "Sure." She replied as she lifted the veil that covered half her face to drink.

"You're in company you can trust. There's no need for the veil. That- that is if you want to at least." The Zemeni man fumbled over his words. The inferni quirked her eyebrow with a smile. He was trying to make her feel comfortable around him. "That's...that's actually nice of you." She whispered uncertain, the tone of her voice bittersweet before she unhooked the veil and it dropped to her shoulders with her hood.

Jesper regarded her at first with shock, then pity and then there was something in his eyes that the young grisha woman would label as nothing else but curiosity. "You're staring." She teased as he looked away uncomfortably. "Sorry." The sharpshooter mumbled. "No no it's fine. I'm pretty sure I'd do the same if the roles were reversed." Anya reassured.

"Tell me about yourself Jesper." The Zemeni man looked at her, slightly surprised that she'd even bother to ask the question. "What's there to tell? I'm a Zemeni man that came here to study, I quit, met Kaz and one thing led to another and here we are!" The raven-haired regarded him with a quirked eyebrow as he squirmed under her gaze. 'There's something he's not telling me. All in due time I suppose.'

"You?" It was a one worded question he asked, one of which he did not know the weight that it bared on the Oryalen woman's chest. "I was discovered to be a grisha at 5 years old. And off to the Little Palace I went." She replied bitterly. In a way, she related to Jesper. She was hiding things too, perhaps a lot more then him. "You don't seem excited to get back home, are you?" The sharpshooter questioned as he turned to look at her better, a sad look in his eyes. "You wouldn't either if the people that praised you to the heavens let you be locked down in hell, left to rot."

When she looked at him, a slight look of horror and confusion was on his face. "I- I'm sorry I am lousy at conversations." The inferni laughed softly, trying to ease the tension. "If you don't mind me asking...the fold. I heard stories that you could clear it. Wouldn't the shadow summoner send a whole army to get you out of prison?" The young grisha woman pinched the bridge of her nose 'Get the message Jesper.' On the other hand, she couldn't blame him.

"Kirigan...he pretends to care. He fills your head with a make-believe reality. But we all discover the harsh truth. I'd...I'd rather not talk about it." The Zemeni man nodded before downing another drink. 'She isn't telling the full story. All in due time I suppose.' He thought to himself. God he was going to make Inej jealous about this conversation. "Brekker's office is upstairs right? I'm going to see if he needs any help planning."

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Kaz Brekker stood in his room, bowing over several maps and papers scattered over his desk. He was annoyed. Then maybe you stay here! he had yelled at Inej. It was foolish of him to utter those words when he knew it was a delicate matter of getting tante Heleen's permission for her to even leave the city. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, that he was moron for hurting his friends like this.

But Dirtyhands knew there was a way to cross to the fold. There had to be, right? And then there was the case of the mysterious inferni, a living legend thought to be dead, showing up on his door step. Whether it was true or not, he didn't know. And there was something about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

The bastard of the barrel was muddled in thought, staring to softly pull off the gloves from his hands. A thud resonated in his room, coming from the window. "Inej I'm s-" He started but he halted in his steps as a strange man stood in one of the archways near the window, quickly followed by two more. The hairs in his neck stood up, unease filling the room as a sense of dread clawed up his spine.

His eyes darted around him, there weren't a lot of weapons of choice except for his trusted cane. In one swift movement, Kaz grabbed ahold of his cane, the three men filling themselves into the room. Whipping around, the young barrel boss battered his cane against one man's chest before the other two rushed to him, forcefully pushing him to his knees and containing him. 'Seems like it's finally time for you.' The voice inside his head whispered. Dirtyhands' heartbeat droned inside his head, bile rising in the back of his throat as water started to slosh around his ankles.

Sweat started to gleam on his forehead and if it wasn't for the heavy footsteps grabbing his attention, who knows what might've happened. His head darted up and the second he did, the feeling of drowning was replaced with a fiery anger in his chest. It was Pekka Rollins. "Mister Brekker." He said calmly with his thick accent, grabbing the bastard of the barrel's cane before sitting down.

"Heard ya took a heartrender from the Orchid." The barrel king started. Kaz was over come with disgust for the man and wanted nothing more then to end him right here right now but they were simply with more. "The Orchid isn't Dime Lions turf." He hissed through his teeth. Pekka chuckled before his face turned stone cold, hooking Dirtyhands' cane in the crook of his neck. "It's a new acquisition. I also heard that you got the jump on whatever job Dreesen has."

The young barrel boss knew where the other man was going with this and what it. It was part of Rollins' M.O. after all. "There has been some chatter on the street about this almost sankta. Apparently she has decided to align herself with your...ragtag crew." The bastard of was breathing heavily through his nose, he didn't want to hear what this man had to say. The only thing he wanted to hear from him is him begging before he crushes his skull with the heel of his boot.

"What is it that you want Rollins?" The king of the barrel raised his hands, as if to calm the other down. "You can go to Dreesen, tell him that I'll be taking over for ya and you can send the inferni my way." Kaz had enough, leaning in as venom dripped from his words. "Not a chance." Rollins only laughed at him. "Oh I am not done yet mister Brekker. It's either that or I can cave your head in with your own cane and dump you in the harbor like the barrel rat you are. If I were you, I'd be sma-"

The door caved in from its hinges, promptly landing against the back of the man that held the young barrel boss in a vice grip. He collapsed to the ground, trying to stand up before earning an eager kick from Anya to the face. One of the others charged at her, his fists pointedly raised to pummel her in the face. The raven-haired dodged, grabbing his fists in her hands as if they were nothing. The man was tall, a lot taller then her, not that that was hard.

But the way he yelped like a dying dog as the Oryalen woman burned his skin and the sickly popping of bones filled the room was something very satisfying to listen to for Dirtyhands. As was the view when she flipped her opponent over her shoulder in one swift movement, dislocating one of his arms and ripping a scream from his mouth. She stood up, dusting of her kefta as she looked Pekka Rollins in the eye. "If I were you, I'd choose your next words carefully before you and your last goon here end up like the other two."

The king of the barrel narrowed his eyes at the inferni in scrutiny as the bastard of the barrel stood beside her. "I know when I am not wanted." The young grisha woman looked at him skeptically as the two goons she had floored woke up, limping to their boss as they retreated back through the window.

"You okay Brekker?" She wondered. 'Pathetic. Couldn't save yourself was it?' A voice chimed. Kaz turned to Anya, annoyed by both her actions against another barrel boss and the voice in his head. Or maybe it was the voice that just spurred him on. "I didn't need your help." He reprimanded, his hair dangling in front of his face as he clenched his jaw. " 'Thank you Anya for saving my life!' Oh gee Brekker, you're welcome. You know what, next time someone tries to kill you, I'll just let them. How does that sound?" She snapped. "Lovely." He shouted before following her back downstairs.

Jesper's brow furrowed as the barrage of footsteps that ran down the stairs followed by another pair, the raven-haired with the young barrel boss in tow. "What the hell happened?" He almost yells. "I kicked Kaz's door down and broke the bones of some people." The sharpshooter was even more confused, not understanding anything that was going on. "We've been warned of the job. By Pekka Rollins. And what our purgatory inferni so coincidentally forgot to mention is that she broke the bones of his men." Dirtyhands continued as he stood next to the duo, earning glare from the Oryalen woman. 'Purgatory inferni. Idiotic title.'

"Does this mean we won'tdo it then?" The Zemeni man asked in shock. "Never make decisions out of fear Jesper. Only out of spite." His friend bit. "Greed always worked for me." Jesper joked, trying to lighten the mood before earning a not amused look from the others. The bastard of the barrel stroke back his hair, composing himself once more as he started to survey the bustling crow club. The dealers were all animatedly chatting with the people that sat at their table as they counted the money. He furrowed his brown the moment he noticed. All of them were counting the same except for one woman. Looking around, he motioned two other dregs to grab her and bring her upstairs to his office. "Anya. Upstairs, now." Kaz demanded. "Listen I am not going to bolt you door back on its hinges!" The young grisha woman started. "For saints sake, just follow me upstairs."

______________*~【☀️】~*_____________

"Where are you from?" It was the first question that the young barrel boss had asked the confused woman who sat across him, Anya leaning against his desk and two dregs behind her. "I am from West-Ravka. Os Kervo." She replied, a slight accent, eyes nervously darting around. Before another word was uttered, Dirtyhands stood up from his chair, lifting a painting behind him to reveal a safe. Grabbing a stack of kruge out of it, he tossed it to the woman before locking eyes with the raven-haired who mouthed at him, asking what he wanted. 'Keep watching.' He motioned.

Hesitantly, the woman started counting the money in between licks on her thumb. The Oryalen woman frowned. The bastard of the barrel was right, there was something peculiar about the way she counted. It hadn't been 5 seconds before the head of Kaz's cane rested upon the woman's hands, forcing her to a stop. "People from Os Kervo don't count like that." He noted, pointing at the map painting behind him. "But the people in the mines of Sikursk do." The inferni's eyes widened in realization.

"I am from West-Ravka!" The poor woman persisted angrily. "You see people from West-Ravka don't mention the west part. For them there's just Ravka and the old country." The young barrel boss replied, a sly grin turning up the corners of his lips just barely. The woman shook in her chair, visibly afraid. "Please don't send me back." She whispered. The young grisha woman's obsidian dark eyes locked with Dirtyhands' storming blue ones. 'Let me handle this.' They asked him. And he let her.

Lowering herself from the desk, she tried to calm the woman down before she spoke. "We are not sending you back." She started, earning a startled look from the other woman. The bastard of the barrel blinked slightly in surprise at her words. He expected Anya to grab the woman's hand and comfort her or talk to her calmy as they both navigated themselves through the conversation but she threw a wrench in his expectations and took charge herself, speaking old Ravkan no less. Kaz was slightly impressed and if he even dared to show it, Inej would probably never let it rest.

"Why did you cross the fold? And how?" The raven-haired inquired calmly. "My daughter...she is grisha. Much like you I expect. We didn't want her to fight in the war so we fled. We...we had help from a man who called himself the Conductor." The woman replied. "How did he operate? Did you see anything?" The Oryalen woman continued, only for the woman to shake her head.

"What is she saying?" The young barrel boss' voice rang through the young grisha woman's ears. "They didn't want her daughter to fight in the war because she's grisha. They didn't see anything but the man who helped them cross the fold apparently called himself the Conductor." The inferni translated. Eager for the information, Dirtyhands leaned in over his desk. "Did he give you a name, address or a contact? Anything?" He demanded. "We stayed with a stage performer for a few days. I think her name was Poppy." His eyes darted up as he looked one of the two burley men in the eye. "Where does Poppy work these days?" Neither of the men wanted to reply as they looked at each other uncomfortably. "Emerald Palace boss."

The bastard of the barrel stood up, dusting off his suit before swinging his jacket over his shoulders and planted the hat on his head, cane in hand before looking at Anya. "Get Jesper. We need to go."

______________*~【☀️】~*_____________

The sharpshooter swung around his revolvers as if the were mere play things, admiring the way he look in the mirror as he adjusted his head. "Jesper." The raven-haired's voice rang out as she walked out of the crow club briskly, starling him the Zemeni man. "Yes darling?" He joked, earning a slight smirk of his new friend. "Brekker sent me to tell you to get ready because we're going somewhere." Jesper quirked his eyebrow. "Whe-"

"Jesper, Anya." another voice called out, starling the sharpshooter once more. 'Poor lad.' Turning around, the duo stood eye to eye with Inej, a distraught look stricken across her face. "Inej are you okay?" The Oryalen woman inquired, taking a step closer. "I....I need to ask one of you a favor." The Zemeni man stepped closer, curiosity peaking. After all, it's not everyday that the Wraith asks for a favor. "What is it?" The Suli woman swallow, hands clenching and unclenching. "I need you to kill someone for me." The young grisha woman's brow furrowed at her words. "Why! I thought you don't ki-"

"Anya! Jesper!" Yet another voice shouted, pulling away their attention Inej. Kaz marched outside, gripping his cane tightly with a determined look in his eyes. Turning back around to continue their conversation with the Wraith, they only found that they were looking at nothing. "Saints, how does she do that?" Jesper commented. 'What are you planning Wraith?' The inferni asked herself. Something definitely wasn't right here. "Let's go!" The young barrel boss shouted, mowing his way through the streets with the other two in tow.

"If we're gonna do this we'll need a demo man. It's not really a talent of mine to blow things up when you point at me, I have style you know!" The sharpshooter started. "Do you though Jesper?" Anya joked only for Dirtyhands to role his eyes. "Alina Starkov will be kept at the Little Palace. And we need to be quite for that. Anya, what can you tell me about it?" He asked.

The raven-haired took a deep breath before answering. "It one of the most, if not just the most, secure place of Ravka. Getting in and out will be hard. Besides, it's where all the grisha get trained. Some are discovered at a young age, like I was, others wait until they are old enough and the testers come by. And it was build as a 'safe space' for all grisha by the black general." The Zemeni man laughed slight at the Oryalen woman's air quotations. "Why saying it like that, 'safe space'." She looked at him, narrowing her eyes. "Because if something is too good to be true, that means it probably is."

The trio had been walking at a fast-paced, brisk tempo, Jesper suddenly holding his two companions back. "Why are we on Pekka's turf? Kaz? Anya?" He asked looking down at her tiny form as she whistled, not looking him in the eye. "I'm gonna talk to an old business partner. I need you to distract the bouncers so I can sneak in and Anya is back-up and look-out." Kaz pointed out before going into hiding and ignoring the sharpshooter's pleas. "Sharpen those skills Jes." Anya teased before disappearing herself.

'Does this man always end up with a gun pointed at his face or what?' The raven-haired asks herself as she stood on the doorway of Poppy's room after they had snuck in, eyeing the scene of the bitter performer and the woman in green that sat on the chair. "I need to find someone. Preferably tonight." Poppy looked at him skeptically, before eyeing the figure if the mysterious cloaked girl that was looking out the door, the young barrel boss following her gaze. "It seems like you've already found some entertainment for tonight I see." The Oryalen woman turned her head, ready to hiss at her through her teeth before Dirtyhands interrupted.

"I am looking for the Conductor. And I know that you work with him so there is no point in lying to me." He interjected, walking around in the room with an air of authority he so easily seemed to command. "And why on earth would you need to know where he is? It's not for the 1 million kruge job all the way east, isn't it? Pekka is king of the barrel, you're just the bastard." Poppy replied, carefully applying lipstick to he lips. The bastard of the barrel lifted his cane, moving aside a few pieces of jewelry on an ottoman to reveal a small parchment of paper with an all too familiar emblem on it, a peacocks' feather in a cage.

Flitting his gaze to the young grisha woman at his door, he pointed out the note to her as she nodded in response. The coast was still clear. At least, for now. "Tante Heleen wrote you? What did she want?" Kaz grilled, gritting his teeth at the mention of the woman's name. "She was asking about the Conductor as well. I didn't trust it so I told him to steer clear of her." The woman in green replied as she continued to work on her eyeshadow. 'For saints sake.' Anya mentally face palmed herself.

"You warned him? With a note? Tante Heleen wanted that so she could have the messenger followed!" The young barrel boss snarled. The raven-haired's eye widened as realisation hit her. "Saints. Inej." Dirtyhands looked at her, confused. "Earlier, she asked if Jesper and I could kill someone for her. Tante Heleen sent her after him!" The Oryalen woman shouted at the man in front of her. "His address. Now." He demanded. If the three of them were fast, then maybe they could be just in time before Inej kills him.

They rushed and weaved themselves through the busy and narrow streets of Ketterdam as fast as they could before halting to a stop at a large front door. "Anya, you kick it. You seem to be great at that." The bastard of the barrel commented before the young grisha woman sweeped up her leg, promptly chopping of the one of the hinges and the doorknob, using her shoulders as a battering ram as the door came crashing down. 'Petty idiot.'

Bounding up three steps at the same time, the inferni looked like she was flying, the Zemeni man and Kaz right on her heels. Distant, muffled voices rang through the air at the end of the hallway. They were just in time. Running to the door the young barrel boss barged through it. "Stop!" Inej whirled around in surprise, her dagger embedding itself a mere inch from the head of Dirtyhands. "Inej don't. This isn't you." Anya whispered as if she was pleading a case, slowly taking step by step closer to the Wraith.

"Killing him is my only way I can leave." She replied, he voice wavering in doubt. "That's not true. Heleen lied to you, so she could sabotage our only way through the fold." The bastard of the barrel continued, threading into the room. The Suli woman's chest heaved up and down as she breathe heavily, as if the air was brittle and dry and she was weighing her decision before finally pulling back her dagger. The four of the stood hunkered over the Conductors shaking form before Kaz spoke. "Conductor. I have a job for you."

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It was under the cover of darkness that the crows, now a group of 5, were starting to board the boat, the lights of the city as bright as the stars that blanketed the sky. "Everyone ready?" The young barrel boss questioned. The boat was one of the smaller ones, unnoticeable and sailing under the guise of being a merchant ship.

The raven-haired had quickly found her way up on the roof of the captains cabin, staring out to the horizon as the boat drifted out of the harbor in a matter of minutes. The hairs in her neck stood upright and she could sense someone was watching her. "Hello Inej." She said calmly. The Oryalen woman heard a soft thud as her companion sat down next to her. "So." Inej wondered. "So." Turning her head to the walking enigma, the Wraith inspected the young grisha woman's face. Scars riddled it, some running deeper then the rest, few were better healed and she suspected that these were only the scars on the surface.

"Heleen owns your indenture doesn't she?" The inferni wondered, recieving a nod from the Suli woman. "I could threaten her again if you'd like. Worked for Kesh." Anya joked, Inej chuckling at her words. "I don't think it works like that. And at least I got some joy over your actions against that wretched woman." The dagger expert replied. "Why did you help Kesh anyway?" The raven-haired mulled the question over and over in her head, carefully choosing her words.

"I wasn't alone you know. There were three of us left. We were somehow lucky enough to make it out of the ice court and steal a ship. But then a storm hit us and..." the Oryalen woman's words died of like a whisper in the night, warm breath fanning into the cold air. The wraith nodded, quickly deducting what had happened. "I don't...I don't really wanna talk about it. Excuse me." The young grisha woman said uncomfortably before dropping down onto the deck.

She stood at the edge of the railing, watching the dark and churning water beneath her. She thought she could do it, suppress whatever it was that she was feeling ut being back on a ship so soon after-
She shook her head. This is not the time to panic. Taking deep breathes to center herself and calm down, the inferni had not noticed the sudden presence of the figure dressed in dark clothing.

"If you're so afraid to drown then why don't you pray to those saints of yours?" Kaz'svoice spoke as he stood besides her, gripping his cane. For the short time he had know Anya, it seemed like just a bit of her composure was crumbling as her knuckles turned white on the railing. Not that he didn't feel it too. Of course Dirtyhands didn't show any weakness.

The raven-haired turned her head, small frame shaking slightly, whether it was from fear or anger did not matter. Her obsidian eyes locked with his and looked like they could swallow him hole in the darkness. There were many things he did not know about the Oryalen woman. Not yet. "If those saints you speak of were real Kaz, if they actually saved people, then where were they when a drüskelle decided that my face was a block of wood that needed to be carved?" The words hit him like a train, slightly taken aback as he watched the inferni's retreating form into one of the cabins.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
I worked my ass off
for this chapter. 3 days.
5000+ words in it.
I hope you enjoyed this
chapter full of my blood,
sweat and tears.
Off to the memes!

One day I'll
swim in a pool
of YOUR tears haha!
Bye.