On 19th September The First Part Of The Story Is Going To Be Published! Its Only Going To Be The Prologue,

On 19th September the first part of the story is going to be published! It’s only going to be the prologue, but I’m so exited!

Omg! They're here!

I've been so exited to finish my collection! And now I even have the collector's edition!

Dark Blood And Light (Pt.1)

(Grishaverse, Aleksander Morozova / The Darkling x OC)

SUMMARY: Looking back at the time before the era Sun Summoner, to a childhood in a orphanage in Kermazin.

TAGS: hurt, childhood, mean adults, food, abuse, fear, nostalgia

PAIRING: Aleksander Morozova / The Darkling x OC

W/c: 6.7k

A/n: The first chapter is partly (mostly) written from a narrators point of view. In the following chapters there will probably be paragraphs that are partly written from that point of view as well, but the majority will be from my protagonist’s kind of view.

All translations at the end of the chapter are from an internet webside. I do not speak russian, so if I by accident said something inappropiate or insulting, please tell me immediantly!

Masterlist Dark Blood and Light Masterlist

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Part One: Before the Beginning

In the beginning everything was black, uncontrollable darkness that swirled around my body and covered me like a second skin. There was no light, only an endless void of nothingness. I can still remember what it felt like. Maybe I might have forgotten it over the years. I mean what it felt like.

Indescribable heat had creeped up my legs towards my lower abdomen and then slithered upwards to my chest. My skin blistered underneath the darkness as smoke had filled my lungs. My body clung to its last bit of strength, struggling to dispose of the toxins, but only to be met by more. I remember fighting against the pain under the heavy darkness that kept me in place. The screams that had wanted to cry for help was something that never came over my lips as if deep down I had known fighting against something that cannot be controlled was a waste of time.

The unceasing blistering continued to feed on my already painfully raw skin. I wanted it to stop. It hurt. It hurt so much. My body twisted as it tried to escape the darkness, but every time I felt it loosen its grip, it only resulted in coming back tighter and stronger than before.

Even though fighting appeared to be hopeless my body didn’t accept its fate. My mind, on the other hand, already found peace in the suffocating silence. In the silence that would have been my eternity. Its clutches pulled me deeper into the furious inferno that I now called my own. It felt horrible, but at the same time like a long-forgotten dream. The painful heat grew hotter and hotter until my vision went white and the only thing my eyes were able to make out were the colors of white and blue. What have I felt back then?

I remembered, at least I did back then. Or have I already forgotten how my heart had cried out for something? What was it again that I felt? I can't remember. Why can't I remember?

__________

Drenched in sweat a young girl's alert eyes flew open in a fit of panic. Her voice betraying her with profound silence as her mind caught up with the rest of her body. Two small hands tightly gipped the light scratchy bedding below as her eyes hastily sought around the tiny room she had slept in. Her radiant skin felt raw against her searching hands, who naturally wanted to get rid of the still burning feeling from her dreams. Fresh winter air swayed against her, but only reminded her of the darkness that continued to surround her. The darkness of her room terrified her, and the voice that had once betrayed her finally found a way to escape. Moments later a blood curling scream left the girls throat as she mistook the safe walls around her with the living nightmare that had felt so real inside her unconscious dreams.

Heavy footsteps heaved against the marble floors, rushing towards the odd sound. Candle lights illuminated the plain room and four people came rushing in. Multiple hands held the girl down, but that only made her struggle more and more, convinced that in a matter of seconds everything would come to an end. An older looking woman stepped forward; a small syringe laid within her rough shaking hands. Wanting to quickly end what played out before her own eyes she, without a second thought, came rushing towards the small girl’s frame. As the youngling kicked and screamed her soul out of her lungs, the elder woman forcefully plugged the needle near the girl’s heart. She hoped the sedatives would soon work their way through her blood system.

Slowly the young girl's screams died, barley being able to stay awake she fell into a peaceful slumber.

__________

Maybe it had been fate that a few years later the young girl met her two most trusted companions.

Neither of the two girls were per say popular inside their small community or at least the place where it came closest to one, considering the majority of the proclaimed “community” consisted of children. If both were to speak about their honest thoughts, you'd quickly realize that neither felt like they truly belonged. Both were often called out for many things, their actions, their behavior, but most of the time their looks in general. The younger one of the two had been far too skinny for people liking and on top of that was often mistaken for a Shu, which only brought her more mockery. The other girl had been no better, she was in no way extraordinary pretty, not like others in their small village. Had it not been for her many flaws one would most likely find her beautiful, but as always that image would quickly falter once one looked more closely at her frail neck. A long deep nasty scar went around her lovely neck, a mark many often mistook for a bad omen, typically resulting in people staying far away from the red head.

The only one of the three that could be considered liked or at least normal had been the lad that was often spotted with both outcasts. He had stayed with them and tried to endure every piece of mockery, taunt, that was thrown their way. Knowing how boys his age where he couldn't keep his mouth shut for long, a trade that people admired and hated at the same time. Referring to him as a brat, because he stood up for his two beloved friends, quickly became a norm for the elders that watched the trio as they grew older with each passing year.

During the short warming summertime, you'd most likely find all three of them huddled together under the hot sun, letting the warm summer breeze sway through their hair as they laid, hidden from unwanted guests, in their meadow. Sometimes after they completed the many chores they`d go into the forest hunting or swam in the refreshing cold water of the rivers. However most of their time was spend near the orphanage they grew up in.

The orphanage, as it was known to the children, had been the mansion of Duke Kermazov, an older man who found his passion in providing homeless children with a second chance for a better life.

It would have been unusual to see the tired looking Duke in his old house, considering he'd rather stay in his house in Os Alta. He'd never say much against the children playing behind his old mansion that was now considered an orphanage, thus stopping the housekeeper Ana Kuya from lecturing the three for straying too far away from their home during the summer.

It also happened to be a reason why Alina liked that time of year the most, aside from her favorite flowers being in bloom. She loved that with his arrival, there was no stopping her and her friends to experience a new adventure, that waited them around every corner. Now that Alina was older, she enjoyed looking back onto those precious memories, a time when everything had been far easier for her than it is now.

Thinking back, her most treasured memory would have to be around the summertime of her sixth birthday, at least from what she could still remember of her time in Kermazin.

At the time, Mal and herself had got to be around five, nearly six, while their older friend had to be around eight. To be honest Alina was not sure how old Anna had been back then, maybe two or three years older she guessed, but it didn't matter anyhow.

Silently they had pulled off their old, hardened shoes and tip toed down the marble staircase, careful to not make a sound. Sneaking towards the old mahogany door had been nerve wracking, since none of them wanted to run into Ana Kuya, knowing they'd receive a lecture for leaving without permission on her part. When they had been children, the door that led outside the orphanage had looked so large and heavy, which as she knew now wasn't the case. Back then Alina had feared, that standing before the door meant that their plans had miserably failed. But the again she was proven wrong as Anna pulled out the key, unlocked the door and pushed it open. Slyly they swept through the small creek and rushed downhill towards the bustling village they lived in. All three of them were so excited that at some point one of them tripped and they had started to roll down the little dune. Grass stained their clothes, but melodic laughter rang through their midst as they simply enjoyed being one with nature. At the end of the hill, all of them laid flat on their backs, arms and legs stretched out in every possible direction, as they caught their breaths. Although considering they couldn't stop themselves from laughing it had proven to be a difficult task.

Once regaining their breaths, the trio had strolled further to their destination, grins plastered onto their young faces. The memory of holding each other’s hands to not get lost within the steadily growing crowd brought out a smile from Alina. She remembered how warm Anna’s hand had felt holding onto her much smaller one and how distracted she had been by everything she laid eyes on.

The delicious smell of freshly baked bread and the heavy yet calming smell of blooming Gerbera flowers had hung in the refreshing morning air. Smelling those had both eased her nerves but at the same time had undoubtedly made all of their stomachs growl with fierce hunger. Embarrassed she had persistently tried to hide the fact that even she felt the need to find the source of the heavenly smell. Both Anna and Mal had laughed hysterically at her antics and afterwards often reminded her of it.

As they pushed their way towards the old bakery, to which they were originally headed to, Alina hadn't been able to oppress the need to get closer to the older girl as the growing crowd kept pushing them from left to right. She had had a strong grip on her friend’s hand and had been scared to get lost, but once the smell grew stronger her fear faded away as well and was replaced with a childish giddiness.

In a small matter of time, they had finally reached the tiny bakery called “the bird’s nest“ named after a saint that once thrived through their small village centuries ago. Like every child her age Alina had absolutely adored the saints, the ones she'd later on forget about. Her giddiness had only grown once she came to realize the saint the bakery was entitled after, had been her favorite for various reasons. Back then Alina had always begged Anna to read her story to her, in secret of course. It had remained their secret for many years, since Ana Kuya did not take to kindly about them, thinking the saints were once Grisha or as she called them 'witches'.

In the story Alina had adored the saint, that took the form of a woman but was never given an exact name. She has remained unknown for most of her life, but was adored in every village she had lived in. The drawing of her had to be her most favored thing about the small book. The saint stood in the center of the page with closed eyes, arms held out before her figure, a halo glowed behind her ginger hair and flowers fell downwards to her naked feet. Unlike most pictures hers showed neither any animal nor any tragic death, maybe that had also been a possible reason why Alina genuinely liked her story, because it had ended well.

Most ravkan published editions of the small red book and her story never mentioned her official name and so she was given the title 'the nameless saint'. Although in the far west of Ravka there corresponded rumors of a rare copy with her actual name in it. As an innocent child the though excited her, to go and find the lost copy herself, but later concluded it would be impossible to instantly find a single copy all alone. But the sole reason behind her passionate adoration and childhood dream had been her sincerely believe, that the nameless saint had been watching over Alina her whole life till that point, however she had quickly dismissed the thought at an older age.

Once they finally stood in front of the peculiar bakery, it had appeared to be a farfetched dream and Alina had had to pinch her arm in order to believe she did not dream of coming here again. The bakery was truly peculiar, it was similar to an old stone cottage but at the same time was not actually one to begin with. To be quite honest the only actual thing Alina remembered about the bakery was the sign. The sign her big doe eyes starred up at. The fancy metal sign of a bird’s nest with a small bird above the front door had looked extremely breathtaking in her eyes.

Anna had happily pulled Alina and Mal inside the already open door. Muggy air had hit them in the face, but it wasn't unpleasant, quite the opposite. The hefty smell of bread combined with the sweet sugary smell of pies, pastries and what not made the youngers mouth water. Both children had rushed forward trying to catch a glimpse of the rare goods they would never be able to afford with the little to no coins they were given by the orphanage.

If Alina said she couldn't remember what happened next, it would most definitely be a lie, she just tends to ignore the question resulting out of it.

As it was their turn to buy something, both kids had expected something small like a loaf of bread for all three of them to share. To their joyful surprise Anna had already ordered two heavenly smelling piroshkis* for each of them and had promptly pulled out a full bag of coins from her skirt pockets. She remembered how she had asked Anna how she had gotten so much but her only answer had constantly repeated inside Alina's mind. “It’s your birthday after all, isn’t it? And every single one of those should be celebrated, don’t you think?“ Anna had chuckled gleefully. Afterwards Alina's childlike mind didn’t think much more of it, after all no one else had cared about her as much as Anna eagerly did.

Throughout their walk back to the orphanage Mal had constantly whined that Anna had clearly shown favoritism as she’s never done that on his birthday. Both girls were only able to laugh merrily at his miserable attempts to get Anna to buy more piroshkis once he turned six years old.

Looking back at her childhood Alina cannot remember a happier birthday that she's ever had.

Surprisingly sneaking back into the orphanage without informing anybody had proved to be incredibly easy. There had been no one looking for them this early in the pleasant morning and so they tip toed towards their shared hide out under the grand staircase. After they had made sure nobody would call on them, they, to both Mal's and Alina's favor, dug into their still warm goods, that laid within their small hands.

It had probably tasted horrible compared to the bigger bakeries’ piroshkis in Os Alta, but for Alina there had never been something better than that first bite on her sixth birthday, where she had eaten her first piroshki.

Sometimes Anna’s melodic laughter still rings in her ears as she thought back to those moments, when her soft fingers had carefully wiped her mouth clean from the crumbs. Or when her gentle voice read to her at night or when she had laid next to her in order to calm her during the loud thunderstorms. Anna had been her rock; Alina had thought she’d never lose her. But she hadn't known better, she had been a naive child back then and she came to regret not appreciating those moments when she had been a child or noticing the signs sooner.

_____

Because a few days later, Alina had patiently waited for Anna's return. Like every night Anna would have carefully tucked her in bed and would have gently told her ravkan tales to lull her and Mal to sleep. Alina had waited eagerly, but there was still no Anna.

Anna had wandered around the cold dark corridor, trying to find the kitchen to steal something sweet in order to sufficiently satisfy her 'small' sweet tooth. Her small feet glided across the floor as she tried to orientate, which obviously wasn't one of her strengths.

Luckily she instantly found the kitchen door and snuck inside. Happily, she carefully took one of the chairs to climb up on and her hands began to fumble upon the cupboard surface. It took forever until she found what she had been looking for, the small chak-chak balls that Ana Kuya always made during this time of year.

Out of nowhere something grabbed her from behind and harshly pulled her off the chair she had been standing on mere seconds ago. Through the dark Anna couldn’t make out the youthful face or even the silhouette of the person that had practically kidnapped her, but she had been pretty sure it was Ana Kuya. She was certain she'd receive the biggest lecture of her young live and was already able to her caretakers nagging inside her head.

As they walked and walked farther down the long corridors the only light illuminating the two had been the full moon shining through the windows. The girl’s heart raced as she noticed the person, the woman that kept a tight grip on her arm was not Ana Kuya.

It had been Sister Eunice. A decent woman or in her case nun devoted to some kind of saint church near Kribirsk. She had come to them the day before Alina’s 'birthday' searching for asylum from a heavy rainstorm. And ever since she had laid eyes upon her, she had started to act strange to say the least. Anna knew she had followed them the day they went to the villages bakery and kept a close eye on them. Frightened the red head looked up at the woman.

The moment they had reached the music room and closed the door behind them it had been dead silent, a deafening silence had hung in the air. Sister Eunice back was turned towards the already nervous girl as she looked outside the huge window wall. Without warning Sister Eunice whipped around, her hand flying to Anna's left cheek, turning the pale cheek bright red. Swiftly after Anna was pulled into the woman's chest as she started to caresses Anna’s face with such fondness. It could only be described as motherly or rather lovingly. Something unknown to the girl, it had creeped her out, but she was too scared to move out of her grasp.

“Moi prekrasny iskupitel”** the woman had whispered as she rocked Anna’s and her body back and forth, evoking the picture of a fond mother calming her own child. It had genuinely frightened her more and every bone inside her small body had told her to get away from the nun holding her captivated. However, she still didn't dare move a single muscle. Anna was sure she would have already peed her pants if it weren't for her shock-state making her body freeze. She had never thought she'd fervently wish for Ana Kuya to catch her, to lecture her and save her from the most likely insane woman dressed in black.

Tears trickled down the woman's face and stained Anna’s nightdress as she kept her hold on the small girl, rocking back and forth. The nuns voice, sounding scratchy repeated a mantra over and over again, as she had yet to let go of the red-headed girl.

The words “iskupitel”*** “nakazaniye”**** repeated themselves from her lips. The young girl didn't know what it meant, but it didn`t matter as Sister Eunice`s voice grew louder each time the words left her lips. The moment the nun took a closer look at Annas face, that she squished between her soft long hands more and more tears started to stream down her face. Lovingly smiling down at Anna made a shiver run down her spine as it turned into the exact opposite once again.

The now emotionless, harsh facial expression had made Anna curl into herself. Her gentle hands felt clammy as her feet tumbled backwards while the woman practically pushed her away to stand up. Anna's behind fell onto the cold floor tiles and slightly scraped her elbows. Visible blood tripled down her fresh wounds.

Sister Eunice's heels clicked against the floor as she walked to the closet in the right corner of the music room. Harshly yanking the doors open her eyes roamed the many rows inside the tiny compartment. Letting her eyes linger on the young girl for a little bit longer she grabbed the thing she had been looking for.

Anna could barely see a thing but was able to hear the clicking of heels closing in on her. Terrified she scrambled backwards until her back hit the cold end of the wall. She tried crawling away as silently as possible but was stopped by the nun pulling her back by her struggling feet.

The young girl's hands were yanked forward, followed by brutal strokes that hit her delicate hands. Anna whimpered and cried under the painful feeling of hard wood hitting against her skin. She tried pulling away, but the woman's nails only dug deeper inside her tender flesh, preventing a possible escape. In a last attempt to free herself, she stretched her hand out and  slowly balled it into a fist.

Captivated Sister Eunice ogled her expression, bowed down and soft and gently petted her bruised cheek “chistyi”***** she softly whispered into Anna's ear. Finally letting go of her, Anna didn't waste any time to run as far away from the nun as possible.

The moment Anna returned to her sleeping chambers she tried to maintain her usual routine:

Tucking Alina into her bed, reading to her, and then going off to sleep herself. Acting as if nothing happened. In the end she had somehow lulled Alina and Mal to sleep, indulged in the warmth they had given her.

She had never told Alina or Mal about it, but to this day Alina regretted not seeing the signs sooner. The signs that had led Anna to be taken away from her years later.

__________

In one of the coldest winters Ravka had ever witnessed, storms raged and brought everybody into an uproar. The cold snow had suddenly fallen over night and covered everything from east to west, and as the days grew by the layers grew thicker and thicker making it impossible for people to escape their houses for a little bit of freedom. It had not been something out of the odds to experience such a harsh season, but for many children it had begun to be the most feared time of the year. The coldness would sneak up to their already chilled bodies. It seeped through the window creeks and laid upon them like the lifeless corpses that were often found during this time of year. For the most part, the ravkan citizens were able to prevent frostbite by simply wearing more clothing layers than usual, making all of them look like they've gained 100 pounds. But for facilities like the older orphanage upon the hill it has proven to be much more difficult, considering how many orphans lived there up until now. They had been most affected; they were trapped inside the walls of their home with no way of going out and only more chores to do. Even the teachers slumped from the beginning of the colder weather, choosing to end lessons and gloat themselves on a bottle of kvas. So instead of their usual teachers one of the older children, or at least a few selected, tried to uphold the lessons themselves. In other words, their time during the cold season was usually filled with three things: fear, exhaustion, and most of all death.

Many might not remember, due to being so young, but there was a time when they prayed for a lighter season every year right before it started, in hopes that their saints would fulfill their wishes and sometimes they did. Sometimes they did, but this specific year had not been one of those.

As the raging winter coldness kept on turning the colorless dead landscape into a breathtaking winter wonderland three figures road in slight, a troika, towards the far-off orphanage on the small hill. It was nothing outlandish; they had come every year, examining the children if one of them showed any signs of being one of them. Grisha examiners are what they were called, one of each order was present during the test. Nobody knew what exactly they were searching for, not like many of them cared anyway. Aside from that, up until now not many were even lucky enough to actually be a Grisha. Thus, the reason why they had stopped coming a few years prior, but apparently that did not sit right with their higher up and resulted in them coming back once again.

On the day of their arrival, three children, two girls and a boy, had been perched at the dusty window, trying to catch a glimpse of the mail coach, but instead were met with their delicate slight that was pulled by three large horses. The children obviously did not know who it had belonged to, at least not until they saw the three figures emerge from their ride. They were all dressed in fur hats and a heavy wool kefta, one in each color of their order: one in the color of crimson blood, one in a blue as dark as the depths of the ocean itself and one in the most vibrant purple similar to the sweet plums they used to eat during the festival in summer. Elegantly they heaved their bodies towards the once bright looking, but now rusted, old metal gate. With a flick of his hand the male in blue let the gates burst open, creating a dramatic entrance that they thought they deserved.

“Grisha!” exclaimed both girls in a whisper-yell.

“Quick!” said the boy.

Both girls unwillingly followed behind the boy, fearing they would get caught sneaking around by their caretaker Ana Kuya. They had been caught on several occasions and were not willing to live through another lecture of hers. Quickly all three ran as silent as mice down the long-stretched marble hallways. Pushing open the door to the music room, the boy and the girl rushed towards the column that overlooked the gallery where the Grisha examiners would most definitely be welcomed in. But as they rushed forward to hide behind the column, they failed to notice the scared look the older girl had in her eyes. She had known what would happen if one of them were to be tested and would turn out to be a Grisha and remembering the events a two years prior didn`t help in the slightest. Her hands shakingly clasped around her skirt as she made her way forward to stand behind her carefree younger friends. Hesitantly she casted her gaze downward over her friend’s shoulder.

Ana Kuya had already been there, she poured tea for her three new “honor” guests, her black dress framed her bird-like statue, and her face was pulled into a sneer as if trying to scare the examiners away from her home.

Unfortunately, neither children were able to make out the faces of the three silhouettes standing in Ana Kuya’s receiving room. The only thing sticking out were their extraordinary cloaks that kept their identity hidden, although they most likely did not need such dramatic get up to begin with.

A low woman's voice questioned firm if there were only three children to test this year. She wore red and sat with the handsome man in blue by the illuminating fireplace, watching the crackling flames as they burned the old woodblocks. The apparently youngest of the three, a blond man dressed in the vibrant purple kefta strolled around the enormously large receiving room, stretching his legs after the long ride. While he eyed the seemingly boring artwork on the walls, the young girl made the mistake of looking directly at his head as it turned towards her direction, catching her eyes with his. A smirk had creeped up his lips, but no words left them, he only put a finger in front of them to signal her to be silent and then turned towards his companions. Poor little girl believed her heart stopped for a second as he had caught her red handed, but luck was in her favor.

“Yes” answered Ana Kuya. Unsure of their reaction she continued “A boy and two girls. Except for one of the girls, they are one of our youngest, by quite a lot. About the age of eight and the other, the older one about the age of ten we believe.”

“You believe?” exclaimed the man sitting by the fireplace as he slowly stood up. Panic was written all over the housekeeper’s eyes whilst her words came out quivering “They were all found dirty and alone. What happened to their parents, we don't … ” A gentle hand placed itself on Ana Kuya`s shoulder and the woman dressed in red gently soothed her by slowing down her heartbeat, emphasizing that they understood the circumstances.

She felt it. She had heard it. The panic that had settled within Ana Kuya’s chest mere seconds ago before it had slowed.

“We greatly admire your institution, and it's cause. We only wish more of nobility would show this kind of compassion.” The woman admitted, immediately waltzing to her next question on what the three children, were like. Naturally Ana Kuya interpreted it completely wrong and listed their talents or their preferences, whilst indirectly taunting them as the woman interrupted her by repeated question, but this time while empathizing the last syllable like

.

Nervously all three bounced from one leg to the other, as the man in purple laid his chocolate brown orbs on the three troublemakers once again.

“They are listening to every word we say” snitched the man in purple, staring directly at their hiding spot behind the columns. Swiftly they all shrank behind their hideout and tried to ignore the fact that he knew they had listened to them from the very beginning. Ana Kuya`s voice lashed out like a whip. “Alina Starkov! Malyen Oretsev! Anna Sokolov! You three, come down here at once!”. The three children sank into themselves and cautiously made their way down the narrow spiral marble staircase towards the end of the gallery. Whilst they had reached the bottom of the staircase, their gaze was cast down, suddenly finding the old tiles of the gallery to be the most interesting thing. Awfully long they awaited they shrill lecture of their caretaker, but it had never gotten that far. Silently the woman in red approached the small children and gestured them forward with the tip of her boots clicking against the floor. “Do you know who or rather what we are?” the woman carefully asked as her steel grey hair fell into her perfectly framed face, making it the most beautiful the girls had ever seen.

“You’re witches!” blurted Mal.

Her face twisted into one of disbelieve and disgust snarling “Witches?” “Is that what you put into their heads in this institution? Lies and superstitions?” almost growling she now stood before Ana Kuya, piercing her with her hate filled glare.

Ana Kuya flushed at being exposed, embarrassed she turned her head away from them. The woman in red’s glare flashed towards Alina, Mal and Anna. All three of them visibly shivered and curled into one another, fearing she might commit murder the moment somebody said something. Her dark blazing, approximately deep brown, red eyes started down at them, displeased, maybe even annoyed and angry. “We are not witches! We are practitioners of the Small Science. We are the reason you are able to live in a safe country, a kingdom without having to worry about experiencing war.”

“As does the First Army” interjected Ana Kuya silently, unmistakably in a bitter undertone. The tension grew at the statement and the woman in red stiffened, but later on concluded “As does the King's Army.” Young Anna fiddled with her fingers, not quite believing either side, being one to witness firsthand that both and neither exclaimed the truth.

Years before they had come to test them; Anna had accidently encountered a group of Grisha herself, they had been the ones bringing her to this orphanage.

They were fascinating, and Anna had only been able to stare at them in amazement. However, that amazement quickly faded as she experienced them eliminating (to her) innocent people. The group had worn the same color as the beautiful Grisha-Examiner, that had lost her temper at Ana Kuya`s remark. Red had been the only color she saw that day, be it kefta or blood. It didn't matter as she ran away as fast as she could. It had felt familiar as she looked behind her and didn't see the body in front of her, making her collied with somebody extremely tall. Afraid she had buried her head against the stranger’s body in attempt to hide from the Grisha, unbeknownst to her the stranger had been one too. Gently he had patted her head and crouched down, consoling her as she cried.

After a while her tears had stopped flowing as the stranger's thumb had wiped them away from her eyes. He had not said anything and instead plugged a single flower from the ground giving it to her chuckling that strong girls like her shouldn't cry. Happily, she had taken it from his hand without hesitation, and her eyes had practically sparkled at the sight of the forget me nots. Slowly her eyes had wandered upward, and she took a closer look at the stranger, now noticing the black wool he wore as well as the black eyes that stared straight at her. Intimidated she stepped back, wanting nothing but to hide, but something had pulled her back as the stranger stretched his hand out towards her retreating form. Like a scared deer she had timidity walked closer. Nonetheless the stranger had been patient and stayed by her side as he watched her with soft eyes.

Anna remembered his hands grasping hers in his as he showed her his powers in order to make her fear disappear. Shadows had swirled around their hands and formed a flower similar to the one she had been holding all along. That had been the first day where a Grisha had proven to her that not all of them were out to kill. She had understood the deeper meaning behind them, after the stranger reasoned that they had done so to protect them. And even though her heart calmed, she has remained cautious by the mere sight of red-keftas, ever since she had witnessed what they were able to do.

Thus, it had been no surprise that Anna was the first one of the three to step back from the still fed- up woman, fearing there would come more.

Gently the young man in purple now began to kneel before the orphans and smiled. Softly he whispered, “When the leaves decide to change their colorful dress, do you mistake it with magic?” Or what about your steadily healing injuries? Do you call something magic that happens naturally like boiling a pot of water? Is what come’s natural for us such as breathing something to be feared?”. Both girls kept their mouths shut and silently looked up at him blinking their eyes, but Mal quickly shook his head as his eyes widened.

Alina narrowed her eyes at their friend and corrected that everybody was able to boil water, which in return made the man chuckle in response. Their mood brightened as they further asserted “ You're completely right, my dear. Anybody is able to boil water. But not everybody can master the Small Science. That`s the reason for our visit on this day, it's why we are here.”

Promptly the slender woman in red turned to Ana Kuya, waving her hand “Leave us alone” she gestured and reluctantly the housekeeper started to take her leave.

“Wait!” exclaimed Mal. “What happens if we're Grisha? What happens to us?” A question that had been burning on the tip of Alina's tongue the whole time, but Anna only stepped back from her loud friend. Grisha were rare nowadays, at least in Ravka and they were aware of it, but it still hurt as the woman in red mockingly looked down at them “If, by any small chance, one of you is Grisha, then that child will go with us back to Os Alta, where it will be given the chance to go to a special school and master their talent to its full potential.”

“You will receive the finest of cloths, finest food, like-minded people and whatever your heart desires shall be yours.” Interjected the handsome male dressed in vibrant purple as he held out his large hand towards their small ones. “Would you like that?” he curiously asked, belittling the younger children. Anna calmed a little, seeing the man wanted to include their decision, even though it probably did not matter to the other two Grisha who were staring at them. Heels clicked on the marble floor as Ana Kuya halted by the entrance door, her gaze hovering over her younglings. Her voice sounded scratchy as she told them it was the greatest honor to serve their current king and home. Instantly the woman in red agreed, gaze softening and willing to make peace with the woman that insulted them minutes ago.

One last time Ana Kuya took in the sight of all three, before she closed the heavy entrance door behind herself. Troublemakers, that’s what she had called Alina and Mal every time she complained to the cook, while hiding her secret love for all orphans she had taken care of over the many years she had already served Duke Kermazov. She would have been embarrassed to find out all three usually hid inside the cupboard and spied on her. At first it had only been a game for them, which it still is, but as time flew by it became more and more interesting hearing her late-night confessions. They swore one time they heard her admit that she had stolen the duke’s seal right under his potato nose. Although it shouldn’t have been such a big surprise considering she had once lived in Ketterdam.

Longingly Anna's eyes stayed on Ana Kuya’s retreating figure as the woman had quickly fled the gallery, knowing her presence would have only caused more problems to arise. None of the adult now paid any attention to the children as all three broke out into a heated argument about the fleeing woman, because if they did, they would have noticed the three of them clasping their hands together, desperately trying to find stability in the imminent test that was about to take place. Because if the Grisha had noticed they would have recognized the look that passed them. A look that Duke Kermazov knew all too well. He had seen it several times as he fought in the war, the eyes of people who had nothing left, but were willing to fight for the small things the war had left in their possession. He knew the look of a man fighting to defend his home with every ounce of energy he had left, with nothing but a mere stone clenched in his hand. If he had been there, things might have taken a different turn, but as always fate has its special way of messing with people.

* pironshki, a common fast food in Armenia and Azerbaijan. In Armenia it often contains a potato or seasoned meat filling.

** meaning: my beautiful redeemer

*** meaning: redeemer

**** meaning: punishment

***** meaning: clean, pure

Written in 2021. Do not copy, translate or repost without my permission.

tokyo revengers

Once King Nikolai is deposed, Vadik Demidov will be crowned and we will petition—”

“Demidov will be a Fjerdan puppet.”

“What do we care for politics of that kind?”

“You’ll care when they stack Grisha on the pyre.”

“Grisha?”

Aleksander had to work to hide his anger. “Was not the Darkling a Grisha?”

“He was a Saint. There is a difference. What has come over you, Yuri?”

Aleksander smiled, regrouping. “Forgive me. I only meant that we may still find new followers among the Grisha.”

Chernov clapped him on the back. “A worthy goal once the war is over.” 

He contemplated tearing Chernov’s arm from its socket.

Sasha has a patience of a goddamn Saint.

“Zoya, do you know why the Darkling lost the civil war? How Alina stopped him?”

Zoya pinched the bridge of her nose. “No. I wish I did.”

“Because he always fought alone. He let his power isolate him.”

I’m sorry - HE let HIS POWER isolate him?????

no no no no no, did we forget everything we’ve learned about Aleksander? AGAIN? ARE THERE SOME GROUPS OF MEN IN BLACK ROAMING AROUND RAVKA, JUST CLICKING PEOPLES MEMORIES AWAY????

He was alone, because everyone he let close betrayed him. 

Baghra was his abusive, manipulative mother who didn’t give two shits about anyone but herself. 

Alina, trusting the word of Baghra, deserted her post and betrayed Aleksander, nearly causing the doom of all Ravka.

Zoya and Genya are also deserters, and betrayed their General.

He couldn’t exactly say ‘hi so I am 500+ years old, I made the Fold when I had a mental breakdown, I’m also a Morozova u know, like the Ilya, Baghra is too, we’re amplifiers, like super powerful ones, and yeah I am super powerful but don’t be scared, I trust you will not give this very sensitive info to any of my enemies haha’ COULD HE?