𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘- 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 — firebirds and incinerators

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 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 happily handing herself over to the druskelle wasn't the strangest thing to happen to Aleksa, sent her mind reeling. As she sat there, staring up at the cracks crawling across the ceiling of their cell like boring old cobwebs, Aleksa could recall a time her life had twisted once more, casting a further shine — or shadow — to her story, to her beginnings... She hadn't, of course, thought her story would intertwine with Malyen Oretsev, of all bloody people.

 They'd been hunting the damned Firebird for weeks; they'd scaled a shifting mountain that had threatened to toss them down the ragged sides with every sly gust of wind. They had meandered through thick forests, nursing the little cuts on their ankles as thorns clawed at their flesh... they'd had to deal with Zoya Nazyalenski's consistent complaints — but she had a very dulcet voice, so Aleksa hadn't once swatted her with the shadows.

 Mal and Alina had sauntered off, Aleksa had presumed to steal a quick kiss like she'd caught them doing before — fabulous ammunition to get the two hopeless fools to blush like children. But that hadn't been the case. Mal had set off in a huff, ready to brood the night away with a frown on his face... Alina had, of course, trailed after him, urging him to return to the warmth of the fire Harshaw had forged.

 They'd been gone for just ten minutes when the screaming had started. Tolya had been the first to jump into action, his steps heavy and his weapon drawn. His hands had clamped around Aleksa's bicep, dragging her until she'd managed to stomp on her own.

 They'd ran and ran, Zoya, Harshaw and the others all tailing them as swiftly as they could manage. It had been right there, the firebird... but not in the way Aleksa had ever expected. Yes, a great big bird was soaring overhead, talons poised to pierce skin until Mal had commanded everyone to cease their firing.

 No, the flying beast smothered in feathers the colour of fresh embers wasn't the firebird at all.

 Zoya yelled and screamed, her face utterly flaming as she tore Mal and Alina apart for letting the damned thing go... until Alina had shaken her head and whispered, "It's Mal."

 Aleksa had frowned, eyes sliding from the bird until they landed on the sorry old lump that was Malyen Oretsev. His head hung, shoulders slumped — he scarcely let down his guard, hardly ever dropped his facade of the dutiful sun soldier.

 "Mind explaining?" Aleksa had muttered, swatting away the bundles of oil-black hair that had slipped from her intricate mess of braids at the base of her skull — and ode to Inej, "Because that thing had wings and feathers," She jutted her chin at Mal, "This thing is pink, bald and sporting some of the most awful ink work I've ever seen."

 Mal had grumbled at that.

 They'd trudged back to the camp, both Alina and Mal unwilling to delve further until the warmth of fire brought back their steadily ceasing courage and poise.

 Aleksa had been the first one to speak, for putting the pieces of puzzles together was something she'd become quite skilled at — thanks to her delightful Bastard, of course. If Alina and Mal weren't putting on some silly long-running jest, and he really was the third amplifier... His blood belonged to her own family line, a pitiful one filled with the utmost tragedy. He fit right in, really.

 But if he wasn't that of the Darkling's blood... then perhaps... Morozova had brought his child back to life, raising her from the ground until her body sealed itself together once more, no lingering image of The Cut Baghra had sent hurtling her way.

 That wasn't small science, it was Merzost... and Merzost always came with a price to pay. Baghra's sister had been human, an otkazat'sya... one that had been mended by magic, given life by endless power. It was only now obvious to Aleksa that some would have remained... Morozova would have wanted his third and final amplifier hidden and trusted. He loved the creatures he'd created, but he loved his daughter most.

 Mal... Mal was a descendant. Baghra's sister had lived and thrived enough to have children and grandchildren, the line continuing until Alina's soldier had been born. Aleksa had parted her lips, "Here I thought all of my family members were completely insane."

 Mal had managed a smile at that, though it soon became a silly pout when Aleksa waved a hand and retracted her words, "Actually, you can't be all there if you willingly chose that tattoo."

 "Leave my tattoo alone."

 "We're family now... It's my job to bully you."

 And like that, silence had enraptured them once more. Family, something Aleksa had strived for, something she had given her powers for. It had never been enough for Aleksander, Baghra had been too tied up in her own misery, her own guilt for her son's actions to truly grow close.

 But the realisation set in... If Mal was the third amplifier and Alina needed his bones at her wrist... Aleksa had stood then; her family seemed to be torn from her mere seconds after meeting them. She'd disappeared into the woods, relishing in the darkness that trailed the length of pine and cedar.

 Every breath she'd taken, cold and crisp, had only woken her further. She was so much like Alina and Mal; children that had never seen the faces of their parents. Children forced into homes for those long since abandoned. Children forced to grow sooner than they should have... kids thrust into war.

 They were bound together in some way or another — by blood, fate or simply the desire to do something meaningful with the power bestowed upon them... she'd be the last one standing. The lone Grisha forced to live for centuries unless she held a blade to her own throat.

 Could the world not let her rest?

 Kaz's plan had been to first get themselves out of the holding cells, and then he and Wylan would come for the girls... But Aleksa hadn't liked that idea very much. She'd sat there with a single brow climbing the length of her forehead and as he parted those pretty lips, she'd tapped a finger on the table.

 "Or I could get us out." She had said, and while Kaz's narrowed eyes clearly displaying his own hesitance, his silence had beckoned her forth, telling her to speak again, "The guards will inevitably come, yes? By the time you and Wylan get to us, who knows how many you'll pass... no offence, but will you and the ginger nut really take down a dozen Fjerdans?"

 She wouldn't have doubted Kaz, but after forcing himself to go without his cane, after trudging miles in the Fjerdan cold... and after clamming himself between bodies for an entire wagon ride... would he be alright? Maybe that was all that was; not doubt, but... panic... worry.

 "I'll beckon the guards forth, Nina can drop their pulses and my shadows —"

 "No. No shadows." His voice had been harsh, insistent, "What if somebody sees them? Hm?"

 "Kaz, sweetheart... nobody will see."

 Sweetheart... his heart had pounded furiously — the irritating little thing.

 Kaz hadn't relented, but neither had Aleksa. When her dear, dear Brekker had tittered closer, breath caressing her cheek as he said "No shadows, do you understand?" She had neither voiced her agreement, nor nodded... and Kaz should have known that was merely her way of shooting him down without a verbal fight.

 So when Nina reached her side, crouching down just as Inej had done mere seconds earlier, Aleksa blinked, "The bell will go soon."

 Inej frowned, "Yes?"

 "We're really going to sit here like a bunch of cute little damsels?"

 "Kaz and Wylan will come for us."

 Nina glanced at the bars keeping them trapped, "Kaz might have given Matthias a black eye... but... what if a dozen guards come through? They'll have guns — guns in a very tight corridor."

 Inej's face remained impassive — she didn't like the idea of waiting around either. Her fingers were begging to seal around the hilt of a knife, they were itching to be free. To be trapped once more, wearing clothes that weren't her own... She breathed, "What do you have in mind?"

 Aleksa had known from the moment Inej agreed to enact their plan that it would sail as smoothly as the Ferolind. The bell had chimed, and like the clockwork Matthias had described to each of them in the utmost detail, guards came a-calling. There had been two of them that stopped by the cells, peering through the bars as the girls inside glanced away, while a handful of others trailed down a corridor and passed through one of the metal doors — in the direction of Kaz and Wylan.

 Mere seconds was all it had taken to incapacitate the guards; Aleksa had pressed herself against the old bars, a chill wracking her spine as she did. Her voice had been as sweet and thick as melted chocolate ready to smother a bushel of strawberries. She'd beckoned the guard closer and closer while the other had rolled his eyes.

 That was it. Separate them. Ensure that one has his back to the other.

 Then it was time for the lights to go out — Aleksa had taken the time to master a little trick of hers with the help of Baghra; to descend a small room in absolute darkness was easy, shadows would writhe and slither like snakes until each and every morsel of light had been consumed. But with Merzost at her hands, with the shadows willing to abide her wishes with such eagerness...

 All Aleksa had to do was twist her fingers. She'd done it around the metal bar, pressing her face closer, lips poking through as the guard peered down with a spark of interest; the room flickered as though a bug had gotten trapped in the lamp, jolting and butting against the spark with each second... then another flicker, a flash and then... The room was doused in a second — like somebody had snuffed out an Inferni's fire.

 Nina dropped the pulse of the guard still stationed further away, his slumping body drew his cohort's attention, yet before the poor fellow could move, Nina had done it once more. Two guards, two unconscious bodies and a single room in an utter blackout.

 Aleksa kept the room dark while Inej crouched to the ground, managing to weasel most of her body through the bars. Her hips couldn't quite make it, but her torso was far enough to grasp a hold of the keys that had been hanging from the guard's belt. The light jingle of them in her hands had Aleksa's skin buzzing with electricity.

 The door was pushed open as quietly as Inej could manage, and when the crows had escaped their cage, Inej locked it tight, feeling her way through the dark just as she did the streets of Ketterdam.

 But now was the matter of the guards. They were unconscious, unlikely to wake until Aleksa, Nina and Inej were well on their way... but could they risk it at all? Aleksa kneeled on the ground, seeing with utter ease. The Fjerdan was stocky, round at the waist and cheeks, a flock of Fjerdan blond hair sitting atop his head like a mismatched cap.

 But then... the same applied to the flock of girls still trapped in the cell; any one of them could squawk like a pitiful pigeon. No, it didn't matter. None of them would truly be able to understand what had happened, for Aleksa had pulled off her magic trick just as Kaz had always seemed to. The lights had gone out, and as they left, she'd let them flicker back on — a mere coincidence, a lucky one they had seized...

 Aleksa and Nina moved the guards, propping their bodies against the damp stone wall, and then, without another look back, Aleksa, Inej and Nina were well on their way. They took careful steps down the corridor, following Aleksa's lead as she peered through the darkness, her hand slowly releasing her hold on the shadows back within the cell.

 Inej had been sure to fill Alkesa's mind with the routes they were to take. Every inch of the damned place was engraved within her head as she turned left down the hall. The entire place was dark, flicking oil lamps doing little to shine any ounce of light — just how Aleksa preferred it.

 Inej whispered here and there, suddenly remembering the precise areas in which Matthias had said guards were stationed. They twisted through the halls, feeling a chill striking their arms as they grew closer and closer to the cell blocks where Matthias and Jesper would be waiting for Nina.

 But they still hadn't bumped into Kaz or Wylan. Not a single sharp cheekbone or ginger curl was to be seen in the decrepit place. Aleksa swallowed and kept her eyes on the path ahead — It didn't take long for Nina's hand to brush each of their elbows, a goodbye dying on her tongue like a small ember on a sodden log.

 Inej stepped closer then, the Shadow and Wraith side by side, arm against arm as they crept through the darkness. It was second nature to them both, as though they'd been born to squeeze through the shadows and clear a path ahead.

 Their steps were light, and for once Aleksa's steps didn't echo through the hall — she quite missed the sound of her thumping boots clashing against the ground.

 Aleksa could feel that odd sensation crawling through her veins — adrenaline. They were so far below the ground, with countless cells and guards mere floor above them... and yet they'd done it. Another leap and bound closer to the goal... but Aleksa knew when kruge was snug in her hands, that feeling would vanish.

 There was a part of her that wished she could be simple, that she could settle for a comfy home and a normal life... if that had been her, she'd have stayed in Ravka.

 Aleksa halted, eyes scanning the room they'd suddenly found themselves within. It was the basement, right where they needed to be. As Matthias had described, there was a multitude of old metal bins stuffed with clothes and rags ready to be burnt... but they were alone. Still no Kaz or Wylan...

 Actually, that was the least of her worries. Aleksa hadn't even registered the heat swallowing her whole until her hand moved on its own accord to swipe a layer of sweat from her forehead.

 She paused mid-wipe, turning her gaze to Inej, "It's not cold."

 It should have been freezing; it should have been hours since the incinerator had last been used. The coals should have cooled, and the flames and sparks should have long since been put to rest — Inej was the first to move. She was slow, as though biding her time, praying with every second she had that the metal doors sealing away the incinerator were merely hiding a cold and bottomless pit.

 Footsteps stole her attention, yet before Inej could so much as raise a hand to prepare for a fight, Aleksa had stepped before her, fingers twitching as though the shadows were all ready to leap.

 Aleksa's digits stilled, "Wylan?"

 "Saint's it's hot." The flustered boy breathed, fanning his sodden face as ginger curls clung to his skin. Kaz was nowhere to be seen, and the merchant's son didn't appear at all confused as to why and how the girls had managed to get to their destination without help, "Why am I roasting?"

 "Wylan..." Aleksa repeated, "Where's Kaz? We thought you'd —"

 "Oh —" Wylan said, his head cocking in confusion, "Kaz said you'd be here. Aren't you meant to be?"

 Aleksa could have laughed — so the bastard did know she planned to get herself and the girls free without his silly little lockpick. Typical bloody Kaz. He hadn't breathed a word to any of them — no of course Kaz acted as though he'd planned the entire thing.

 "I'm going to wring his neck one day." She muttered beneath her breath, steps carrying her towards the metal doors. Inej had remained silent, staring at them, willing them to open on their own accord; she didn't like the thought of what she might find.

 The heat made it all too obvious that Matthias was wrong — he'd either lied about the times in which the incinerator ran, or they'd changed the routine in his absence... Either way, heat poured from the other side, and as Aleksa pried the doors open, she could feel her skin already drenched in sweat, her cheeks as vibrant as the recipients of her flirtatious demeanour.

 Wylan had recoiled, taking a few scrambling steps away from the jutting chimney radiating heat as though the fire was licking at his flesh. The poor boy had known nothing but the dreary clouds of Ketterdam, the showers of dull rainfall and the chilly draft of cold air.

 Aleksa breathed a steadying breath — did everything have to start going wrong now? Kaz was nowhere to be seen, Nina hadn't yet returned, and the damned incinerator would burn her dear Inej to a crisp in minutes and... delightful, she could hear the sound of footsteps once more.

 It took less than a second to decipher the pattering of steps; two sets of feet, one pounding heavily as though an elephant was ready to trample into the room, another agile and bouncy; Matthias and Jesper.

 Jesper flung himself into the room, boney fingers trailing over his forehead as salty sweat already began to break out — Matthias looked no better; for a man who'd grown surrounded by ice and snow, he looked about as pathetic as a melting snowman beneath the light of dawn.

 Jesper's eyes caught Wylans worry immediately, "Don't say it merchling —"

 "We have a problem."

 "You had to say it..." Jesper sighed, his gangly body wilting like a flower "How bad?"

 Aleksa turned away from the incinerator. She could feel the burning of her cheeks, the way her face was likely brighter than any of them had ever seen it. She was doused in a layer of sweat, and hair clung to every inch of her face, "They must have run the incinerator this afternoon, it's still boiling."

 Jesper's arms folded, narrowed eyes landing upon their Fjerdan, "You said they ran it in the mornings."

 "Jes... I'm not one to step in and save our dear damsel Matthias..." He scowled at Aleksa for that one, "But changing the routine of burning clothes makes sense; most of the prisoners arrived in the afternoon, so why bother keeping flea-ridden clothes in the building for hours?"

 Aleksa peered once more down the burning chute, the scent of simmering coal smacking her face. This was where every possession the prisoners brought with them — clothes, accessories or contraband — were all burned until nothing remained. The Fjerdans stole freedom and identity all in one fell swoop.

 But any other waste from the prison was tossed down there too; the leftovers and discarded items from the kitchens, human waste, clothes and rags, old sheets likely smothered in fleas and lice... Aleksa couldn't smell any of that, for whatever chemical they tipped upon the coals to make the fire burn hotter and brighter smothered lingering smells. The coals far below still pulsed red, bursts of fire still bellowing angrily in between cracks.

 "Wylan, give me a shirt from one of the bins," Jesper said, his palm already upright and awaiting. The moment it was in his hands, fingertips skimming Wylans with a rather delightful jolt, Jesper tore off one of the sleeves, balled it up and tossed it towards Aleksa.

 She caught it with ease and threw it down the shaft. It fell soundlessly like a bird's feather toppling through a cloudless sky. It didn't make it all that far before it burst into flames; cinders bouncing here and there until it disappeared entirely. It hadn't even had the chance to touch the coals — there was no way they could take any kind of demo into the damned thing, they'd all explode within seconds.

 Jesper said as much, "We can't take explosives in there. Can you still make the climb?" he asked Inej.

 "Maybe. I don't know."

 Aleksa glared down at the coals, watching the way embers crackled within each sliver of the coal; it seemed to flow like lava and the heat only seemed to grow. Aleksa tossed a look over her shoulder, feeling the way sweat gathered at the nape of her neck, soaking her hair.

 It was just them, alone with no threat... and so Aleksa twisted her fingers. Wylan jumped as the shadow his body cast began to ripple and writhe. It stretched forth, smothering the floor like an old and soiled rug until it merged with Jespers, then with the large blob beneath Matthias's feet.

 Finally, each and every shadow beneath the tables, the metal bins filled with clothes, and Aleksa's dear crows darted towards her. They scrambled over the edge of the incinerator toppling towards the coals below as though hungry enough to devour any and all light.

 Aleksa could only hope her darling little tendrils of darkness would be capable of cooling the place just enough for the Wraith to descend high above.

 Matthias' voice was gruff as he watched the ripple of smoke tumble over the edge, "What are you doing?"

"Listen, as much as you might think I'm an insult to humankind, this is the only way we can cool this Saint-forsaken thing down," Aleksa scowled at him, "Unless you have your own plan, druskelle?"

 Matthias found it strange to look at the girl before him; she was so much like Nina, strong and fierce, a terrible mouth to match a terrible attitude... but, he supposed, the one redeeming thing about her was the unending loyalty and care she provided her crew — her Crows.

 It almost reminded him of... well, himself. The way Matthias had felt about his fellow druskelle, his brothers. He'd seen the way she acted with Jesper and Inej, treating them like siblings even if the three of them had come from different corners of their pitiful world. She'd taken to Nina immediately... and she hadn't truly insulted him — or at least drawn a knife on him — for quite some time.

 Even the demjin seemed to calm in her presence.

 Matthias heaved a great breath and nodded just once. He wouldn't complain, he wouldn't sneer and call her a witch... because while the sight of shifting shadows made his pale skin crawl and while their boundless chill threatened to seize his heart; she was doing this for Inej... for all of them... and that was so very human.

 Aleksa continued, spurring her shadows on, small whispers tumbling from her lips as she encouraged them. The others had never seen a Grisha prompt their powers in such a manner — she was always so different to the others.

 "What about Kaz and Nina?" Aleksa asked the towering Fjerdan, her eyes slipping to Wylan as she cocked her head.

 "They didn't meet with you?"

 Aleksa didn't like the edge on Matthias' voice. His scowls she could stomach, his anger she could laugh at the sight of... but fear? Her throat was cleared with a cough, eyes darting back to the cooling coals, "No, we haven't seen Nina since she split, and Wylan came alone after parting with Kaz."

 "We're all on time... What is he up to?"

 Aleksa wondered the same thing — it was certainly within Kaz's nature to spin their plans at the last moment, to add an unaccounted-for magic trick... but he was never late. Kaz Brekker never left her — them — waiting.

 Jesper tapped the pad of his calloused thumb against his lip, "He's going to limp up and down all those flights of stairs, dodging patrols?"

 Kaz was spiteful, they all knew that much, but even the Bastard of the Barrel knew not to push his injured leg too far. Without his cane, without his gloves... Aleksa cleared her throat, eyes watching as Wyaln shifted closer to one of the laundry bins ready to be tossed into flames.

 He glanced up, hands pinching a pair of purple slippers with rubber soles. His ruddy curls were soaked with sweat, his freckles more pronounced against his pink cheeks... but a grin sprouted. It curled like that of a cheshire cat, "Inej?"

 Inej's eyes blew wide as she looked from their merchling's face to the shoes he grasped, "My slippers..."

 Aleksa shook her head — finally, they had a surge of luck. The room seemed to have cooled, even if it was hardly noticeable, but at least the lot of them weren't ready to topple over and watch as the last remnants of water within their bodies evaporated into taunting plumes of steam.

 "Wait," Aleksa called, "Check the others. If our clothes are here, Kaz's gloves will be too."

 Wylan dug around, hoisting himself onto the edge of one of the metal bins. He'd have toppled in if not for Jesper grabbing his collar with a smug little grin. It only took a moment for a very red Wylan to procure the cold leather, holding them up as though he'd won a trophy.

 Aleksa might not have had the comfort of her bow and arrows, Jesper might not have been able to curl those jittering fingers around his pearl-handled pistols, and Inej might not have had her knives glinting at the prospect of a fight... but with Kaz's gloves, Inej's rubber slippers and the shadows doing their best to swallow any light and heat...

 Aleksa grinned grin at Inej — it was dazzling, teeth glinting, lips shining with sweat and her skin positively glowed with the use of her power, "What do you say, my darling Inej? Will you make the climb?"

 Will you make the climb? Not a 'can you'. Inej smiled at the faith their Shadow held for her, the way she trusted the Wraiths' strength. Inej pulled her slippers over her toes, and swiped the gloves from Wylans's awaiting fingers, "I will."

 "I adore you."

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DATE: 07-02-2025

:･ﾟ★ ngl, i didn't realise i would produce so many chapters for SoC.... but i'm so in love with that book and Aleksa that i truly don't mind. I hope you're all enjoying it thus far <3

also woah, i have hardly any more flashbacks to add in? that was quick.

i require a certain number of comments before i publish the next update. do not leave 'update' comments, you will be muted.