CHAPTER ONE
student and master

The sunlight filters through the window, casting patterns onto Lyssa's face. Scrunching her nose slightly, she blinks against the brightness, only half attempting to stifle the yawn building in her throat as sleep leaves her. She stretches her body much like a condent cat might as her eyes drift close again and she nuzzles her cheek against the soft silk of her sheets beneath her.

"Good morning," a deep voice says from behind her and Lyssa casts a glance over her shoulder.

His hair is tousled and mussed, and his voice still rough from sleeping. Like this, so unaware of himself and not caring about image or control or power, might be when he is the most beautiful.

"Good morning." She replies as she blinks against the last remnants of her dream and he leans forward, pressing his lips against hers. The contact is gentle, barley a whisper of a kiss. Still, she smiles against his lips.

Almost instinctively, Lyssa's right-hand reach over her side and rest against his cheek as he cups her face, drawing her against him.

At last, he breaks away and moves to the side of her face, peppering a kiss against her temple, the shell of her ear. Lyssa's smile grows when he presses another kiss on her skin, this time against that sensitive spot right behind her ear and she nearly lets out a giggle, like she was nothing more than a schoolgirl and not a fully trained Grisha Corporalnik.

He lets out a sigh as he rests his forehead against the side of her head, closing his eyes. As if the motion would keep the day and their responsibilities at bay.

"I have a council meeting soon," he at last says against her hair.

Lyssa lets out a hum that wasn't really an answer but sounded affirmative enough. She wasn't quite ready to let the day come crashing in on them, either. This little sliver of peace, this small fantasy was so much better.

From the way he doesn't make any move to get up, Lyssa thinks she isn't the only one with that mindset.

"Ivan will come looking for me soon." Aleksander adds, but Lyssa isn't quite sure if it's to convince her or himself. Maybe both of them.

"Let him," she replies. She really means it. Let Ivan go to his chambers, let him comb through the Little Palace. She didn't particularly care about Ivan right now.

"And you have a class to teach this morning," he continues. Still with eyes closed, still not moving.

Technically speaking, Lyssa knows those are all valid reasons. But truthfully, she would forego all of them right now. To let this moment last just a little bit longer.

Turning so that she faces him, Lyssa looks into his dark eyes, nuzzling against his cheek. She lets herself enjoy his warmth, his proximity, this small perfect eternity for just a moment longer before she lets out a small, regretful sigh.

She presses a last kiss against his lips before she slips out of the bed.

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The smell of rotting decay clings to everything inside the Corporalnik workshop. It's its own kind of mystery about the workshops. No matter how many times a week, or even a day, they clean the surfaces, or whatever new cleaning aid the Fabrikators create for them to try out, it never quite leaves. If anything, the mingling with the harsh scent of the strong cleaning chemical only makes it worse.

Standing in the front of one of the classrooms in the workshop, Lyssa leans against the table behind her. She watches in silence as her new students enter. Today is the first day of classes they have since deciding to specialize as Healers. It might, in fact, be their first class as Healers at all.

Considering that the class she is teaching for this particular year of young Corporalki is Introduction into Healing, Lyssa is fairly certain that it's the whole point of it.

This year, there are seven new Healers, a number just about average. It always sways a little, going up and down. Some years, they had more children that had been tested and found to be Grisha, and the classes were bigger. Sometimes, there was a large disproportion between Heartrenders and Healers, with one being far bigger than the other. Sometimes, like with this group, they're fairly even in numbers of new students.

When all of her students have gathered in the room and she has checked that everyone is in attendance, Lyssa musters their faces for a moment.

They're all young. It always hits Lyssa in this first lesson, facing her new students just how young Corporalki are when they decide whether to specialize as a Healer or a Heartrender. Only two years after training together before they are put before the choice. She has often wondered if it happens too soon. And she knows that, among the teachers, she isn't the only one.

There have been debates among the teachers' multiple times now. Yet, the problem still remains. Ravka is at war and as long as it stays that way, they will not be able to prolong the education of young Corporalki before they specialize. It is time that, without peace, they cannot afford.

Still, despite their age, or maybe because of it, their eyes shine with excitement as they look at her.

It's a look every single one of her classes shares on that first day. And, after years of teaching, Lyssa knows it's not just solely because those young Grisha have just chosen a specialization and are now faced with a new path in their life.

Resting her hands against the edge of the table behind her on either side of her body, Lyssa at last speaks. "Allow me to introduce myself," She says into the room. "My name is Lyssa Golubeva and, as you are all aware, I am a Healer and your instructor for this class. I have been teaching for about ten years now and before that I served in the Second Army."

She pauses, mustering their faces once more, looking at her with rapt attention. "Before we begin with this introductory class into healing, are there any questions from your side?"

Immediately, a few arms raise into the air and Lyssa tilts her head to one of them. "Miss Petrov?"

"Is it true that you can match one person's blood to another's?"

"I can."

A murmur goes through the group.

"Will you teach us?" Another asks, not bothering to raise her hand as she looks upon Lyssa with admiration and excitement.

"The theory of blood modification and thus its transfusion, will be covered in your advanced classes, Mister Bielsky. So, no, I will not be teaching it in this class."

Another girl's hands shoots into the ear.

"Miss Alekseev?"

"Don't you teach an advanced class as well?"

"I do teach advanced classes."

A bright smile grows on her face as she drops her hand back to the table she is sitting at.

Lyssa nods at the boy to her right. "Mister Ivanov?"

"How old where you when you did your first transfusion?"

The corner of her lips tug into a small smile at the onslaught of questions. "I was twenty-seven at the time of my first successful transfusion." Lyssa replies and, if possible, their eyes only grow wider.

"Mister Bielsky?"

"Since transfusion is seen as one of the most complicated, if not the most complicated procedure in healing and you have the highest number successful transfusions among Healers recorded, would you say you're the most powerful Healer?"

She can practically hear Kirigan's voice at this point, taunting her for the fact that apparently, the thing every single one of her students over the years had in common was the fact that they were absolutely fascinated with her practice of transfusing blood.

"No." Lyssa says and means it. "I am among the highest-ranking Healers in Ravka, but I certainly would not say I am the best Healer there ever was just because of the number of transfusions I have performed. There are many other brilliant Corproalki we know of, and even more that we do not know of, that were more talented than I am now."

She might have been a bit humble there. Lyssa wasn't just among the highest-ranking Healers; she was one of them. There were barely any who outranked her. In fact, there are only a handful of Grisha in general who outrank her.

But she has learned that this usually intimidates students that age, so she doesn't push the subject. Besides, even if she is among the highest Grisha in here, that doesn't automatically make her one of the most powerful ones. Certainly not if she considers that there are so many talented Grisha who never get tested and never come to the Little Palace out there. And that's not even talking of those their history books never covered.

"Are there any more questions that do not have anything to do with my practice of blood transfusions?" Lyssa asks into the group. When nobody answers, she gives them a nod. "Well, then let's get started, shall we?

"There is something my own teacher told me once that I like to quote at the beginning of this course. The living demand more of you than the dead." She pushes away from the table and straightens the crimson fabric of her kefta as she speaks. "Many people will tell you that in our Order of the Living and the Dead, the Heartrenders are the higher Grisha in rank or skill or talent. That they are the more will strong of the two. I can guarantee you that those people will be no Healers."

She musters each student individually. "Every Corporalnik is inherently born with the ability to do both. Cure and kill. Heartrenders have their own, special set of obstacles and difficulties that are different from those of a Healer. However, by skill, every Corporalnik, Healer or Heartrender, is able to bust a lung. Not every Corporalnik can mend that lung back together successfully and save the patient's life. This class will start begin your journey to becoming fully trained and educated Healers and lay out the groundwork for your advanced classes later in the course of your education."

Turning, Lyssa walks around her table and towards the board. "In every new class I get, I like to take a small portion in the beginning of the course to go over all the basics again to make sure that everyone is on the same page. Since this has all been covered in your initial first two years, we will keep it brief. However, there will be a test on the topics once we are through the revision, so I expect you to take this seriously even though you already heard this before. Chances are that I might have something to add that your teacher might not have thought of at the time."

Grabbing a piece of chalk, Lyssa writes Anatomy on the top of the board. "Now, we are going to begin with the anatomy of the human body. Please open your textbooks on page seven for today's lesson."

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Lyssa is making her way through the Little Palace and towards the exit closest to the training area when she hears footfalls hurrying after her. Sending a look over her shoulder, she recognizes Zasha Vikhrov, her old teacher. In the years since she has graduated from school, her hair has turned from a grey to a snow-white and her face has become withered, giving the old Healer an ancient look. Still, she has a speed most others her age, and younger, would be envious of. This kind of fast paced walk is something Vikhrov already did back when Lyssa was a teenager. And already back then the neck breaking speed of it had gotten on her nerves her.

Mostly because she usually had to run to keep up with her instructor's natural pace.

"Miss Vikhrov." Lyssa says when the other Healer reaches her. She hasn't seen her in some time. Last she's heard, she had retired to some estate because, well, she was advancing her late seventies at this point.

The older woman waves her off. "Bah! Call me Zasha."

Lyssa draws up a surprised eyebrow. In all those years of Zasha Vikhrov teaching her, or anyone, she had always insisted on formality. On those signs of respect for your teachers and elders. Not once Lyssa has seen her offer a student anything less.

Zasha lets out a cackling laugh. "Don't look so surprised girl. I am getting old, and I am not a teacher anymore. Besides, one would think you'd have earned it. Considering how much you have risen in the ranks the past years. And what you have done as a Healer."

"I... thank you," she frowns softly. "Zasha."

The word feels foreign on her tongue.

"Well, girl," Zasha Vikhrov says, and she begins moving. "Do you have a moment of time for your old teacher?"

"Of course," Lyssa replies. She decides not to point out that, by now, her testing at age seven was three decades past and she was anything but a girl. Her mind is still a little occupied with the fact that Zasha Vikhrov, who was legendary among the Corporalki, had just offered Lyssa that she was allowed to address her informally.

She's pretty sure even the general hasn't been given that offer.

"I am on my way to training, so we will have to go down that way." Lyssa motions with her arm as she leads her old teacher down the path.

"Ah, with that new Shu instructor? I've heard may good things about him."

"Yes, with Botkin," although he wasn't exactly new, she just hadn't been in the Little Palace much recently, "and yes, he is a very good instructor. Our young Grisha are lucky to have him."

"Hm." Zasha makes, scrutinizing her. Lyssa had always found that the Healer reminded her of Baghra. She certainly thought that the two of them would make good friends. For better or for worse for the rest of them. "So, you managed to do the transfusions, then, girl?"

Lyssa sends her a glance. "I did."

The last Grisha before her to be able to perform them had been Zasha. It had been her, too, who had taking up instructing her for a few months after that day near the Shu border. Where Lyssa had, in her desperation, attempted to save Mikha with a transfusion.

"And have you taken on someone to pass on your knowledge to?"

Lyssa stays quiet for a moment. She thinks of a young, Zemeni girl with the brightest smile she has ever seen. She shakes her head. "No."

"Hmpf." Zasha makes. "I'm sure now you have already learned this as teacher but passing on your knowledge and teaching the young always gives you a better understanding of you subject."

Lyssa stops. "Who is it that you have in mind? Because that's the reason you are here. Why you've sought me out, isn't it?"

Zasha scrutinizes her for a moment. "A boy in Irina's class. Advanced, last year."

"I make my own decisions about who I will take on as my student and who not." Lyssa says. The words come out harsher than intended.

"He's shown great enough promise for me to consider recommending him."

And that, in itself, said something. Lyssa could admit that. Still, she wasn't going to just let anyone be her personal student. Not after...

"Fine. I'll consider having a conversation with this boy. And see if he is cut out for the work." She says after a moment. It's more to console her old teacher because she does not think whoever this kid is, he'll impress her enough to take him on as apprentice.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm expected outside." Lyssa says with a tilt of her head. "It was nice to see you again, Zasha."

She turns and makes her way to the doors leading outside.

"Lyssa Golubeva!"

She'd been so close.

Lyssa stops and turns back to Zasha. The old woman is scowling at her disapprovingly. "Don't talk to me like I cannot see it in your eyes." She says, jabbing a finger into her direction. "Did you think I liked taking on some insolent child when you became my student? I lost students, too. More than I care to remember. Most of the time I wanted to wring your neck! I didn't think you were cut out for it either, and now look at you."

Somehow Zasha Vikhrov always found a way to make Lyssa feel like that girl again, even years after.

"It is not Mikhail Aleksev's fault that your first student died. Don't make him suffer for it like all the others that came knocking at your door and asked to be taught by you only to be turned down. You've said no to enough talented Healers who wanted to learn. It's time you stopped hiding behind your books or your general or whatever excuses you give them. Stop letting your ghosts rule you and say yes to one who deserves to follow your path."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

welcome back to this bad boy!! as always please consider leaving a vote and comment and letting me know what you think so far <3