II / Metamorphosis

The next morning, the Grisha tent wakes long before the rest of Kribirsk and there's an odd silence inside as they get ready. Vera finds that, once she is glad in their little uniform, the basic combination of boots, breeches and the white shirt, her kefta tugged on over the clothing and she is sitting at one of the tables, she is oddly hungry. Even if she doesn't feel hungry, her stomach is grumbling by now. It's probably because she barely had been able to get down a scrap yesterday, feeling nauseous at the mere idea of food the entire trip from the Little Palace to Kribirsk.

She is also glad for the long training session they had yesterday. After years of barley any to no use of her powers, Vera has learned that her body is sensitive to using her powers; when she does she can eat heaps of food. When she doesn't, she finds it difficult to gag down even her most favourite things.

Now, she is almost wolfing down the food on her place and praying that she doesn't puke it up later on the skiff.

It's still what she is hoping an hour later when she is making her way through the lines of the camp and towards the Fold. To where the lines of skiffs is waiting just at the edge of the empty sand.

The skiff she'll be on during the trip is already loaded with the goods they're bringing to the west and currently, the others stationed on the sled are boarding and finding their post. Vera vaguely knows that as an Inferni, she'll be stationed along the railings between First Army soldiers.

Noticing the familiar blue of the Summoners already aboard the skiff, Vera walks past the line of First Army soldiers, passing the cartographers and others just as a group she thinks might be trackers walks on the skiff. The moment the captain's eyes catch her the blue of her kefta he motions for her to come aboard.

She decides to ignore the pointed whispers from the First Army as she walks past them. It's always the same - the Second Army looked down on the First for being otkazat'sya and the First Army looked down on the Second for being Grisha.

As she takes up a post along the railing, Vera finally lets her eye wander to the black mass just a handful of yards away from her now. A mass she has tried, and failed, to ignore until now. She forces herself to look away from the Fold. Instead, she watches the Squallers at the mast for a moment as a shout comes from somewhere at the docks. She turns her head to where the skiff next to theirs is now being pushed towards the Fold. With another command, the Squaller's wind billows against the sails when they hit the sand in front of them. The sand that is all that skiff will hit until they dock in Novokribirsk on the other side of the Fold.

If they dock, that is.

Then the skiff vanishes into the wall of darkness and they're next in line.

Again, Vera reminds herself that she is just about one of the safest people on the skiff. Wind and rifles and all other manner of weapons weren't nearly as useful as Inferni fire against Volcra and she has an entire arsenal of it in her veins.

To protect herself and the entire crew with only a handful of other Inferni, now, is trickier. Especially since they are the ones that will attract the Volcra first if they're attacked. But if everything goes according to plan, she will not have to raise a single finger.

Just as another Inferni takes up a post at the railing on the other side of the skiff, Vera turns back to the docks. One last time, she tells herself. Just in case.

It's all the sentiment she allows herself.

She sees the red robes first. Then, her eyes meet Fedyor's from his place on the docks. He's standing about as close as he can without risking getting reprimanded or standing in the way. Even in the distance, she can see the smile he gives her. It's supposed to be uplifting, she can tell, but it's dampened. It feels more like a good-bye than anything and Vera hates it for that.

Still, she can't help but smile back as the shout comes from the foreman and her skiff makes a violent lurch forward.

The only reasons she isn't face-forward on the floor the next moment are her hand on the railing and years of core training with Botkin.

With a last look to Fedyor, Vera turns back to the Fold as a command from the captain rings out and the Squaller wind hits their sails. She forces herself not to look back, and to stem the rising tide of choking panic in her chest as the Fold approaches them and they cross the short distance with growing speed.

Vera takes in a final, sharp breath before the darkness envelopes them.

For a long moment, Vera doesn't dare to take another breath before she lets out the air in her lungs through her nose and takes in a breath. Even if it's inaudible over the wind and the skiff in the sand, the noise sounds defeating to Vera's own ears.

Just like the darkness feels like it is pressing in on her.

It's not just the Fold, the knowledge that out there are the Volcra and she can not see a single, damned thing. It's the darkness itself. It feels like the polar opposite of her fire, the light and life and warmth it is to her that is utterly absent in here. It feels like the very fabrics of the fold are dead. Absent of any life.

It doesn't matter that the winged monsters in here are very much alive. This darkness, more than any other, feels like Death around them.

The first thing she hears of them is the flap of wings. Just a small chorus barely detectable over the sounds of the skiff gliding through the sand. For a moment, she thinks she has imagined the sound. Then it comes again, and again. And again.

Her heart sinks as fear grabs her throat in a chokehold. She knows the others have heard it, too, when the sounds of arrows being knocked comes from all around her. She can hear the closest soldiers to her raise their rifles. Then, from her right comes the silent command. "Be ready."

Vera makes herself ignore every instinct closing up her lungs and takes in deep breath. In and out. Reading herself, grounding herself before a fight. The way Vaugn had taught her all those years ago when she began getting herself in more and more fights as a little girl. In and out. Wait for the fight to come to you and don't seek it out.

She never really listened, but now she makes herself to do exactly that. Listen. Wait. Draw out the smoke and fire in her blood, ready to erupt.

Because this fight would come, and it would come any moment.

"Burn!" A sharp call comes out from the front of the skiff. Around her she can hear the flints striking stone from the other Inferni, but Vera doesn't bother. Usually, she would go for the stone and flint, too, but now she decides to go for speed. She really isn't going to risk being eaten by Volcra because she chose the safe route instead of the quick one. Besides, she seriously doubts anyone will care right now.

The embers are already thrumming in her veins as she brings her palms together and rubs them against each other, once, twice, repeating the motion until the first sparks spring from her hands, sending sprinkles of light through the darkness.

Then, she opens her hands and lets the sparks erupt into fire.

Her fire is the first to light up the darkness and like she is a beacon, the Volcra dive for her.

Flinging out her fire in a plume that envelopes the first of the monsters to reach her just as fires light up around her and the sounds of shots start to ring out, Vera goes right towards the middle of the skiff and the Volcra, screeching at the impact of her flames, hurtles into the sand to the left of the skiff.

A quick glance into the darkness to her left and the light from burning heap in the sand tells her that more of them are coming for them from the direction. Gritting her teeth, Vera raises her left hand towards the fire in the sand, flames still dancing across her right arm without touching, without burning. With a sharp motion she jerks her left arm forward and the fire lashes forward like a snake catching a mouse and one, two, then three Volcra fall from the sky before Vera flings another burst of fire at a fifth with her right hand.

Whirling around, Vera scans the ship. All around her, Volcra have descended upon the crew and screams and shots clamour around her in a lethal crescendo.

Where to hit, where to hit... Her eyes find a Volcra half-sitting on a form clad in blue robes with red embroidery. Her heart clenches at the sight of the creature feasting on an Inferni right there, on the ship. A small fire still flickering next to the body.

Letting out a soft snarl, Vera raises her hands again, pointing straight at that small kindling. A heartbeat later, she feels the cord between her very core, where her own fire rests and that small flame next to the dead Inferni going taught. Slowly, Vera pulls her hands apart from each other and the flame grows until it licks on the claws of the Volcra, then its legs and, as it lets out a bloodcurdling screech, the envelop the rest of its lower half.

As it pushes itself off the skiff and flaps erratically into the opposite direction of the fighting, the fire envelopes it whole.

Vera watches with grim satisfaction as it topples to the ground some yards away from the skiff and doesn't move again.

Behind her, another screech sounds and Vera's face drenches of all colour. Too close.

She whirls around just in time to see a Volcra descending upon her. Out of pure instinct, Vera dives to the side. Even before she moves, she knows she's too late, too slow.

Vera lets out a scream as the tips of the claws shred through her kefta and find their mark just above her left hip.

And then the world lights up.

━━━━━━━━━━

Vera still isn't entirely sure what she is thinking. In fact, her entire brain feels completely fuzzy even minutes later when they have docked in the safety of Kribirsk once again and chaos ensues around her.

Medics for the First Army, Healers for the Second. Someone's shouting questions but she doesn't hear the words. Not really. He's a First Army officer anyways and right now, she couldn't give less shit about keeping rank.

A handful of soldiers lead the girl they'd been crowding the entire time back, off the ship. She'd been unconscious for most of the trip back and Vera isn't entirely sure what they think they'll do with a First Army cartographer, but if they are guarding her like that they must think she has something to do with what happened out there.

Her eyes find a soldier walking past her. He's younger than her, with a boyish look still on his face, and it doesn't look right with the rifle slung over his shoulder. He's bruised and holding his left arm but otherwise, she can't see any injuries.

Still half in a trance, her hand shoots out and her fingers grip his jacket with a so much force, her knuckles turn white.

He blinks at her, bewildered. "Let me-"

"Go to the Grisha tent and tell one of the people manning the entrance what happened here. Then, and only then, you can find someone for that arm." Vera tells him, ignoring his protests.

He looks at her almost gobsmacked. "Excuse-"

Vera draws her lips back in a snarl. "You heard me," she snaps and pushes him towards the way off the skiff.

"I-"

"Now!"

Vera has no idea what happened on this skiff but she knows that the Darkling will want to be informed about something like this. Because nothing ordinary just lights up in the Fold and scares off the Volcra.

She's heard the whispers of it, learned about it during her studies at the Little Palace but... the idea forming in her mind is too ridiculous, too impossible to even think the words.

And yet.

Vera lets out a harsh breath as she watches the soldier scurry off the skiff and past the others, giving her a last, fearful look over his shoulder before the crowd swallows him up. She isn't stupid enough to not have seen the way his eyes lingered on her dirty kefta, on the red embroidery on it. He's probably afraid she'll roast him alive right then and there if he doesn't listen to her. It's likely the only reason he did so in the first place.

It's then that a healer arrives at her side, and Vera blinks once as she turns to the girl before her eyes lower to her side. She notices that that she's still clutching it, that her fingers are slowly but surely getting covered in the blood seeping from her wound. From all the bruises and cuts along her body like it's a grotesque canvas or art left behind by the Fold.

Silently, Vera unbottons her kefta and watches as the healer learns forward and pulls up the white shirt beneath. It's starting toget soaked in blood. Her blood. Then, with the familiar itch, she begins stitching her flesh back together.

She'll need to make sure to get her kefta fixed as soon as possible. There's only so much that can get through Fabrikator work, but most of it is deadly. Vera really isn't into the idea of catching a bullet into such a vital point of her body through the shreds of the Volcra claws.

When the healer moves on from the wound at her side, nothing more but a lingering tingle and a bit of pink skin left, Vera's hand shoots out and grips her wrist. "No." She says and the Healer looks at her in surprise, taken aback. She makes her words sound less hostile when she adds, "The rest will heal on its own. I need to report to the Darkling."

Because he'll want to know. Sun Summoner or not, something fended off the Volcra out there.

The Healer gives her a nod at the name and steps back before she turns and finds another Grisha, a Squaller looking in far worse shape than Vera herself, to help.

As she weaves her way through the chaos, Vera shrugs off her kefta, her eyes searching for the familiar purple of a Fabrikator in the crowd. There weren't as many of them here as of the other two Orders, but a few for cases exactly like hers and as she gets closer to the Grisha tent, she flags one down.

"Can you fix it as soon as possible?" She asks when she reaches him, holding out her folded garment. "A Volcra got to it and I don't know if I'll need to get out again soon."

He nods, taking it from her. Vera barley stops to thank him before she continues her way to their tent.

A group of ragged and dirty and bloody people shuffle inside just as she arrives. Even without the vaguely familiar faces, Vera would be able to guess it's the survivors from the skiff being brought in for an audience with the Darkling.

Shit. Getting healed and finding that Fabrikator must have taken longer than she'd realized.

With a curt nod towards the Grisha outside, Vera follows the group. Even without the kefta marking her as an Inferni for all to see, without the standard uniform all of them wore beneath, Vera recognizes a few of them and doesn't bother to explain who she is. They know, too. She doesn't bother with the oprichniki, either. She dares them to stop her.

Inside, the silence she left this morning has been replaced by avid chatter. All around her the Grisha that aren't set to go through the Fold soon sit and eat and talk. Vera can feel the stares on their group, but she doesn't spare them a glance. All she sees is the table in the middle, next to the black pavilion they are making their way to.

Where a group of them is currently talking to the Darkling. Vera can see him on his chair, watching the ministers and Corporalki. As Colonel Raevsky talks to him, his eyes wander around the room and his eyes meet Vera's just as they reach the edge of the dais.

She knows from that single look that he's already been informed about what happened. If it's because of that soldier she'd send or because of something else, she has no idea.

Then, his gaze snags on something behind her before it returns to Raevsky. Sending a look over her shoulder, Vera spots a small group of people just as they march past her and towards the dais. It's the same group from her skiff, the girl between them. The girl they've brought here for only one reason.

Vera has no idea what to feel about the fact that they believe that they have a Sun Summoner, the only one to ever live, in their midst. Especially since she'll probably have to give a report about it all and she isn't keen on doing is before this kind of an audience at all.

The relief she feels that the stares are now on the girl and not on her, is bigger than it should've been. As is the way they made her feel like her skin's crawling.

"Kapitan, report." Raevsky's voice comes from the dais and immediately, the captain stands at attention. Like a good, little trained dog.

"Approximately thirty minutes into the crossing, we were set upon by a large flock of volcra. We were pinned down and sustaining heavy casualties. I was fighting on the starboard side of the skiff. At that point I saw -," the captain breaks off for a moment before he continues. "I don't know exactly what I saw. A blaze of light, bright as noon. Brighter. Like staring into the sun."

At his words, noise erupts around them and the others from the skiff nodded along with the captain, even the girl. The alleged Sun Summoner. Vera doesn't bother with the motion, instead leaving her gaze fixed firmly on the Darkling, watching him.

"The volcra scattered and the light disappeared. I ordered us back to dry dock immediately."

Vera vaguely remembers all this. She knows that there had been orders shouted and that the one surviving Squaller had brought them back to land nearly as fast as they had taken into the Fold. She'd been busy checking the wound in her side and discovered, with no small amount of relief, that the Fabrikator craft had, in fact, prevented most of the damage. It had been that that most likely saved her life, too. If it had been any other type of cloth she'd been dead long before they had reached Kribirsk again even if the volcra had not been able to take out a chunk of her stomach.

"And the girl?" The Darkling's voice sounds from where he still lounges on the seat.

"I didn't see the girl, moi soverenyi."

Those eyes that look like black pools of darkness lift up to the group from the skiff. "Who actually saw what happened?"

After a moment, a man Vera recognizes as a Senior Cartographer steps forward.

"Tell us what you saw," Raevsky says from where he stands next to the Darkling.

"We... we were under attack. There was fighting all around. Such noise. So much blood. One of the boys, Alexei, was taken. It was terrible, terrible." Vera knows that the man is probably in shock, but by Djel, she cannot stand the sound of his voice. "They were everywhere. I saw one go after her -"

"Who?"

"Alina. Alina Starkov, one of my assistants."

"Go on."

"I saw one go after her and the tracker," the Cartographer says, pointing at one of the soldiers in the group.

"And where were you?" The girl snaps at the man. "You saw the volcra attack us. You saw that thing take Alexei. Why didn't you help?"

"There was nothing I could do. They were everywhere. It was chaos!"

"Alexei might still be alive if you'd gotten off your bony ass to help us!"

As sounds of laughter erupt from the crowd, the corners of Vera's lips curl up just slightly while the Cartographer's face turns a deep red.

"Enough!" Raevsky's voice sounds and the noise in the tent went down. "Tell us what you saw, Cartographer."

"The tracker went down. She was beside him. That thing, the volcra, was coming at them. I saw it on top of her and then... she lit up."

Again, the crowd around them erupts into noise. Only now it's only the Grisha that call out and most of it is disbelief. Looking around, the Cartographer calls out, "I saw it! Light came out of her!"

"This is absurd," Zoya huffs from where she stands. "What are you suggesting, old man? That you've found us a Sun Summoner?"

"I'm not suggestion anything, I'm only telling you what I saw!"

More shouts ring out and Vera lets out a long breath. Her hands are clasped behind her back and she stands there, guillotine spine and silent as she looks away from Zoya and back to the Darkling. Again, their eyes meet and she notices that this might be the most annoyed she has ever seen him. Which, to be fair, isn't saying a lot.

"Quiet." He says and immediately, silence descends upon them. He looks back to her. "Vera, you were stationed on the skiff. Tell me what you saw."

Every single pair of eyes turns to her.

Great. She knew it'd come to this.

Clenching her hands into fists at her back, Vera replies. "The cartographer speaks the truth about the light. We were attacked in the Fold and a searing light appeared out of nowhere, scaring the Volcra off. They stayed away the entire way back out. But... I did not see where the light came from." She had been a little busy trying not to get eaten by Volcra at the time. "So, I can neither confirm nor deny his claims."

That's all she can give them. The light had been there, but only their little Saints knew where it had come from.

With a small nod, the Darkling's eyes go to the soldier the cartographer had pointed at. "Tracker, what did you see?"

Looking between the Darkling and the girl, Alina, the tracker is quiet for a moment before he says, "Nothing. I saw nothing."

"The girl was right beside you."

A nod.

"You must've seen something."

When he still doesn't speak, Raevsky gives him a stern look. "Just tell us what you remember, tracker."

In response the tracker shrugs slightly, wincing in pain. "I was on my back on the deck. Alina was next to me. I saw the volcra diving and I knew it saw coming for us. I said something - "

"What did you say?"

"I don't remember." Vera is pretty sure the tracker is lying the Darkling straight in his face. It would've been impressive if she weren't already done with this entire thing. "I smelled the volcra, saw it swooping down on us. Alina screamed and then I couldn't see anything. The world was jus... shining."

"So you didn't see where the light was coming from?" Raevsky inquires and the tracker shakes his head. "Alina couldn't... She couldn't... we're from the same... village. If she could do anything like that, I would know."

"We all have our secrets." The Darkling says in his soft, cold voice as he looks back to the girl. With a frown, the tracker opens his mouth but stops when the Darkling holds out a hand before he rises from his seat. Slowly, Vera watches as he makes his way to the girl.

"Now, what do you say, Alina Starkov?"

For a moment, the girl stares up at him with wide eyes. Like an animal caught in a trap, staring down the rifle of a hunter. Then, she swallows. "There's been some kind of mistake," she says in a quiet voice. "I didn't do anything. I don't know how we survived."

Vera can tell from the tremor in her voice only, that she is telling the truth. The Darkling must've seen it too from the way he watches her for a long moment before he speaks again. "Well, I like to think that I know everything hat happens in Ravka, and that if I had a Sun Summoner in my own country, I'd be aware of it." A good point, Vera thinks. If the Darkling actually knew everything going on in Ravka and extensive as his reach is, Vera doubts that. "But something powerful stopped the volcra and saved the King's skiffs."

The girl juts out her chin and when she sees the stubborn glint in her eyes, Vera decides that she likes the assistant cartographer. "I didn't do anything. Not one thing."

The Darkling is silent again, but this time the pause between his reply seems to be more of an amused nature than anything else. Apparently, he'd decided that he liked this Starkov girl, too. "Is your memory as faulty as your friend's?" He asks, nodding towards the tracker.

"I don't..." The girl trails off with a frown, looking caught somewhere between confusion and helplessness.

"Hold out your arm."

The girl blinks. "What?"

"We've wasted enough time. Hold out your arm."

Eyes widening, Alina glances around at the others inside before her gaze snaps back to the Darkling. Vera notices the tremor in her body as she slowly raises her arm between them.

"Push up your sleeve."

"I didn't do anything," she repeats, softer this time but again, follows his instructions after a moment of hesitation.

"Now, let's see what you can go." The Darkling's voice is the last thing Vera hears before, for the second time today, complete darkness envelops her.

For a heartbeat that feels like an eternity, Vera is back in the Fold. Her heart pounding in her ears and she swears she can hear wings flapping around her. It's impossible, she reminds herself even as cold sweat breaks out on her palms. They're in the tent and not the Fold and there are no volcra here.

Still, her throat closes up as the panic rises, rises, rises...

Light bursts from her left, dipping the entire tent into a bright white. It's gone almost as soon as it appeared, taking the Darkling's shadows with it, but it's enough to anchor Vera back in the present. In the tent, and not in the Fold still lingering in her mind.

To her left, Alina's legs give away just as the Darkling takes hold of her and looks up. His eyes find one of his oprichniki nearby. "Take her," he commands and immediately, the oprichnik gets into motion, taking hold of Alina as the Darkling hands her to him before he straightens and turns to the crowd.

"Ivan!" To her right, Vera spots the Heartrender weaving towards him through the crowd. "Get her to my coach. I want her surrounded by a guard at all times. Take her to the little palace and stop for nothing. And bring a healer for her wounds."

"Wait!" The girl, the Sun Summoner, calls out from where she is being herded towards the entrance of the tent, her hand reaching out and grabbing the Darkling's sleeve. Vera draws up an eyebrow. She definitely liked this girl. "There's been some kind of mistake. I don't ... I'm not..." She goes silent at the look the Darkling gives her, letting go of him.

For a few seconds, they converse too silent for Vera to hear before the Darkling straightens again and nods to Ivan. "Go."

This time, there was no stopping for Alina as Ivan grabbed her and dragged her towards the exit.

"Come on," Ivan hisses and again, the Darkling stops. "Ivan. Mind your tone. She is Grisha now."

It gives Vera an absurd amount of satisfaction to see the look in Ivan's face at the reprimand. Without another word, he continues leading the girl to the exit and the Darkling turns back to the dais. Making his way back to his vacant seat, he only stops once he's right beside Vera.

"Vera?" He gives the red head a brief look. "Get ready to leave with my group. You have fifteen minutes."

Well, at least she won't have to go into the Fold again. With a bow, Vera replies, "Yes, moi soverenyi."

She genuinely hopes that the Fabrikator did finish her kefta.