V / It Goes Like This

Vera decided to take it as a small kindness from the universe when she woke up the next morning and did no find a schedule waiting for her. If she did not receive any schedule or job during her stay other than to look after Alina, this was basically a vacation.

She thought of the Grisha tent in Kribirsk, of the Fold. Of the last time she'd went south with the Darkling towards the border to Shu Han. This was definitely a vacation by Vera's standards.

At least, that had been her opinion until the third day, and she got word that Baghra was awaiting her.

Vera had been sitting in the library, reading through a book on the history of the Tavgharad. Considering the nature of the force, the book was fairly thin, which Vera found an immensely unfortunate. Maybe it was that she'd grown up in a country where the rights of women were so limited, but she'd always been fascinated with the Shu Han crown and their elite female warriors.

It was a little like gazing through a looking glass. Like imagining what her life would've been like if Fjerda was different.

If even just the inheritance in Fjerda would've been different, if woman were able to inherit at all, she didn't think she would be here now. She would be in Djerholm among the court, eating and chatting. That is, if she hadn't been put to trial and death for being Grisha or had been married off.

Vera didn't like to let her thoughts stray to that other life.

With a sigh, she shuts the book. "Did she say what she wanted?" She asks the servant as she rises from her seat and moves to one of the shelves, putting the book back into its place.

"No." The servant says slowly, and she can basically hear him shift uncomfortably. Vera can't really blame him. She wouldn't want to keep Baghra waiting either, if the old crone had given her a task.

Which is precisely why when she has dismissed the boy, who looked to be just a handful years younger than her, and he had scurried off in relief, she made her way to Baghra's hut without risking further delay.

Now, she was standing in front of the structure, scowling at it.

Vera had spent many a hour in here throughout her six years at the Little Palace. In fact, she'd not only spend most of them in solitary lessons, but also had been made to take them for far longer than most others. Her last lesson had only been a handful of months ago when most Grisha her age had long been drafted into the Second Army and most of the younger students had moved on from learning with Baghra to more specialized and advanced lessons.

Lessons Vera had not needed, at least for the most part. She'd made up of her utter lack of any semblance of control over her Inferni gifts in the fact that she'd spend all her life learning culture, and languages, and other things. So, while her the other Grisha in her class had gone on to study Shu or Kerch or Suli, Vera had gone to Baghra's hut.

And, she had to admit, that she was grateful for that. When she'd arrived here, she had put countless of objects on fire. She also distinctively remembers one or two incidents where someone had to be tossed into the lake or doused by a load of Tidemaker water because she'd accidentally set them on fire. It had been the reason she'd taken the risk to flee to Ravka in the first place. Considering that she set a good part of her family house on fire with a mere nightmare.

Not that she'd ever say anything of that out loud to that cynical, hateful crone.

Taking in a deep breath, Vera knocks twice before bracing herself for the onslaught of heat that dearly made her miss the freezing cold of the Fjerdan north and opened the door.

Even knowing what was coming, the heat felt like a physical force slamming into her as she slipped inside the hut and closed the door behind her before Baghra had a chance to berate her for letting the heat out.

Like that would actually make a difference in this hellhole. Maybe it was that she was Fjerdan, but despite years of coming here, Vera never could get used to the damp, hot air inside Baghra's hut vent het smallest bit. Usually, she felt like dying.

"There you are, girl."

After a moment, her eyes adjusted enough for her to find Baghra in a chair near the fire, scrutinizing her then, she turns back to the fire. The stare and the uncomfortable urge to fidget under it like she as a little girl, were as familiar as the hut itself. Vera hadn't really expected anything less than that after all the time she spend in here.

But still. It felt odd being in this room. In Vera's mind this place belonged to her past and her childhood. Or whatever small piece was still left of it when she arrived in Os Alta. Not to her present, where she'd finished her studies and had gone into the Fold and was riding with the Darkling's group of Grisha and oprichniki.

"So, princess, how is your fire?" Baghra says from her place near the fire, sending her another of those looks.

Vera stiffens at the name. She had no idea where Baghra had gotten that idea from, but it had always been girl and then princess and then either of those. Never Vera.

She honestly wasn't sure if Baghra even ever bothered to remember her actual name. Even though she'd certainly remembered who she was.

"It's perfectly fine," She says.

Baghra lets out a disapproving grunt. "The last time you said that girl, you set one of the king's military advisors on fire two days after."

"I was fifteen," Vera replies, and sends her a dark look. She, in fact, remembered that particular incident quite well. She'd had single lessons with Baghra for nearly half a year now and they'd moved on to weekly lessons as apposed to daily ones about three months into the entire thing. Vera had been utterly tired of this nightmare hut with Baghra and the insufferable heat that made her feel like dying and getting hit with that stick.

So, she'd declared that she had gotten enough control to join the others in their normal training. Baghra had disagreed. Vera had not listened to her, so Baghra had thrown her out after they'd gotten into a fight.

Two days later, Vera had set one of the king's advisors on fire and he'd had to be tossed into the lake by two Squallers nearby.

The next morning, Vera had been back in Baghra's hut, receiving a lecture from the old woman.

"So?"

"I'm not fifteen anymore."

"You certainly act like you are."

Vera lets out a long sigh as she folds her arms before her chest and takes the seat across from Baghra. This was going to be a long day.

━━━━━━━━━━

To Vera's utter dismay, Baghra insisted on taking up one hour-lessons each week when she heard that Vera was going to stay in Os Alta for longer than expected. Like she just expected Vera to suddenly forget everything she'd learned in the past six years and start committing arson for no reason. Like Vera was indeed still fifteen.

It was only made worse when she'd run into Botkin later that day and he had nearly fallen to her knees with relief when he discovered the same little fact. Apparently, Alina Starkov was taking to the training with him slower than he'd thought and the sight of someone who'd excelled as his pupil was a much-needed sight.

What was not much needed was Botkin promptly roping her into joining his daily training with Alina and inviting her to the training with the other Summoners.

That had about been the point, when Vera was ready to march into the Darkling's war room and ask for a reassignment.

But she didn't. She had made herself listen to something Fedyor had told her when she had reported about the happenings of her day to him when they sat together in Os Alta after buying a few pastries on a slow day. To view it as an opportunity. Training with Botkin and Baghra would make her even stronger. Would only help her in the long run.

She had to admit, he did have a point. And it was better than just sitting around week on week without anything else to do than eat and read and sleep. Watch Alina Starkov isolating herself further and further.

Not that Vera can really say anything about that, considering that she had about a sum total of one friend.

But she'd seen the occasional glances Alina had thrown to her, growing more frequent the longer their daily training sessions together with Botkin lasted. If Vera were anything more like Fedyor, she might've tried to form a genuine bond with the girl. If Alina spend her time with the likes of Marie, she sorely needed them. Only Vera wasn't sure she was any better company.

Vera wasn't like Marie, but she wasn't much better as a friend regardless. When she had arrived people like Marie, who had tried to weasel her way into the good graces of the Sun Summoner, had taken an interest in her, too. They had tried to stick their noses into her past, hoping to find out some exciting secrets to them to gush and gossip about.

Vera had never let any of them know any of her exciting secret and she never would. It was bad enough that she was fairly certain that the Darkling knew them, even if he had never explicitly said so. The only person she had ever slowly, over time, opened small parts of that little dying fourteen-year-old to was Fedyor. That was the only one she'd ever been able to stomach knowing some of those truths, and she would trust Fedyor with her life. With the lives of every single person in this world without a second thought. She trusted him blindly.

But there were some things she was ready to take to the grave.

Even when Fedyor had been assigned to a mission, she had forced herself to keep up that kind of mindset. He would have been proud.

It all went fine until the day Zoya arrived during breakfast. Apparently, her group had been assigned to return to the Little Palace.

With a dark look, Vera watches the group of Grisha walk through the room, getting friends and others. Down the Summoner's table she can see Marie and Nadia, who she swears have just sneered at each other at the sight of Zoya, jump up an greet her enthusiastically, hugging her before introducing her to Alina.

And, to her surprise, something about the way Alina looks at the Squaller makes Vera think that she knows her, too. At least to a small extent.

Vera tilts her head slightly as she watches the scene. She can hear Zoya's exclaim even from here as she sweeps Alina into a hug. "It's such an honor to finally meet the Sun Summoner!"

Not to mention that Zoya knows exactly who Alina Starkov is.

A few moments later, Zoya sweeps away and to the dormitories and Vera turns back to her nearly empty bowl of breakfast.

With a sigh, she rises from her seat and leaves the room, heading to the library. She had finished the book on the Tavgharad and was now reading one covering the life of the first Taban queen. The different books were her only break in the monotony of the last weeks, really and by now she even found herself looking towards that hour with Baghra every single time.

Which is precisely why Vera decided to put the book away some time later and make her way to the West Stables to join the Summoner's combat training.

She arrived just in time to get a front row seat to see Alina hook her leg around Zoya's ankle in a rather impressive move considering where Alina had started out. Zoya only stayed down for a moment, before she whirled on Alina and threw out her hands, sending Alina through the entire thing and against the wall of the training room.