And now, after countless tales of the saints that have lived and died, their sacrifices immortalised in worship and prayer, now we must look forward. A figure present in the hearts and minds of the Ravkan people for generations, the most holy of all saints, prophesied to one day be born and deliver the world from the darkness and sin that infect it. The one with the power to summon the Sun.

~ Extract from the last chapter of The Istorii Sankt'ya, translated from Old Ravkan.

*

The carriage trundled north along the road from Temgora, jarring its occupants at every bump and pothole. Alina watched through the window as familiar landscapes - her home village, the farmer's fields, the forest, the Dva Stolba valley itself - passed them by, giving way to the unknown. Whilst she had travelled into the Sikurzoi mountains with her father before, hunting, it had never been this far.

She sat with her head resting against the glass, eyes on the outside. This was an attempt to ignore Alyona, an overly-cheerful Grisha woman who seemed determined to engage the three children in conversation. The other girl - who was around her age, nine - was quiet, and only responding to be polite. The irritating little boy, who couldn't be older than five, hadn't stopped crying for his parents since Alina had stepped into the carriage. Temgora was the last stop; the Grisha were taking them straight to Os Alta, in quite a hurry. Everyone had lost their minds when the light burst from her palm.

"Alina, Ekaterina, Damiel," Alyona was a Heartrender, one of the most feared Grisha orders, though if it wasn't for her red kefta, she would look more like a farmer's wife. Alina disliked her because the woman's manner reminded her of her mother, especially as she smiled at the three children. "Why don't you introduce yourselves to each other? It would be nice to have some friends already when you make it to the Little Palace,"

They looked at each other dubiously.

"I don't want to be friends with him," Alina spoke when no one else did, glowering at the boy, whose lip quivered. "You Grisha can control people - can someone stop him snivelling? It's annoying,"

Ekaterina let out what might have been a stifled snort of laughter. The other adult, Maria, bit her lip to stop a smirk. Maria, who couldn't be older than twenty, was something called an amplifier, as well as being Grisha; she had also been complaining of a headache.

Alyona shot Alina a reproachful look, rubbing the boy's shoulder in comfort. "No need to be mean, Alina. Damiel is only little. He's missing his Mama and Papa. I'm sure you are as well, even if you're too brave to show it,"

"You're the ones who took him away," She shrugged, ignoring that last comment, not nearly scared enough of Alyona to worry about being rude. Despite being able to crush hearts in a man's chest, the Grisha woman was nowhere near as frightening as her own father. "I'm glad to leave," She wasn't glad, not really, but she wasn't not glad either.

"The Little Palace is the safest place for all Grisha," Alyona struggled to hold her motherly smile; Alina had that effect on people. "It was the right thing to do. But have a little kindness, Alina. I know you may not have had the easiest childhood, but won't you miss your family a little?"

"No," Her reply was flat, and she liked seeing how the woman's expression faltered.

That was a lie, of course. She would not miss her mother, who flipped between being overly smothering and sickeningly sweet to being a shrieking, vicious harpy in the blink of an eye. But she would miss her little brother Misha, who was the same age as weepy Damiel but much more tough. And she would miss her father, despite his gruff, often scary nature and harsh punishments. He had taught her all she knew; hunting, climbing, and how to throw a good punch. Even if it was just because he didn't know what to do with a daughter, and Misha was too cautious for that kind of thing.

"Well then I'm sure you'll settle in well to your new home," Alyona hastily returned to talking to a reluctant Ekaterina, pulling the still-crying boy to bounce on her knee.

Alina did not feel guilty, returning to staring out of the window. She didn't trust the woman; experience had taught her to be wary of such niceness. Mother acted like this often, but always snapped eventually. It was just a matter of time. She wanted them all to know that she saw through them; that she might be young, but they were not going to fool her.

All this would be so much better if Mal was here with her, Alina's only friend. She'd miss skipping school with him to run in the cornfields dotted with poppies, or lose themselves in the woods, climbing trees and setting snares. She'd miss their play-fights, miss hiding from their parents, miss stealing food from the bakery, and snickering together at the back of the church. She would even miss getting into trouble, pulling faces at each other behind her father's back as the man prepared his belt to snap over their hands, comparing wounds afterwards. It was a shame her friend had to stay behind. He might not've had to, if he hadn't run away like a big baby and just let them test him.

The other children in the Temgora could hang themselves for all she cared. Most shunned her for her Shu mother, or tried to pick on her for her small size. But Alina was her father's daughter inside; vicious, stubborn and always ready to defend herself. Not only did she fight like an alley cat, she had even taken to carrying her father's spare knife around with her (which remained in her pocket still, unbeknownst to the Grisha). None of the other children would lay a finger on her after she had stabbed stupid Igor in the leg once (he had deserved it). They still shouted insults from afar, and she was most definitely an outcast, but at least they left her alone.

Father had adopted the same attitude. Many scorned him for marrying a Shu woman, but he was a loner anyway, spending a lot of time hunting in the mountains and only interacting with their neighbours to exchange meat and furs for money. Mother dealt with it differently. For all her faults, she was a talented weaver, and many would visit their house to buy from her. Thus she made herself invaluable to all the wives of the village by being the font of all gossip. They still insulted her, but she was useful, and had thus carved herself a place.

Alina wondered if she would ever see their little house again. She was hardly going to miss the leaky ceiling, the draughts, the creaking, the cold, dark winter nights, and the constant threat of Shu raids hanging over them, but it was strange to be leaving the only place she had ever known, with a group of strangers.

When Maria - in her purple kefta - had touched her arm, and light had dazzled the schoolroom, it had taken Alina a few moments to realise that it was coming from her. She had never known, or even dreamed, that she might be able to do such a thing. Everyone - the teacher, the other children, even the Grisha - had been stunned when Maria let go, the woman gasping like she'd run a long distance, and the light faded. Then, before anyone had the opportunity to say a word, Alyona and another Heartrender named Maxim were ushering her out of the room, each with a hand tight on her shoulder, despite Alina's questions and protests. It was a good thing she was last in the class to be tested, having been skulking around at the back of the room as usual.

Everything had seemed very hush-hush and frantic. Maria had made sure that none of the people who had seen what happened left the schoolroom, and while several people stared at the sight of Alina being frog-marched through the village by two Heartrenders, no one said a thing. All this fuss was silly really; these people went around Ravka searching for Grisha children, so why were they so surprised when they found one?

Her mother had protested when Alyona and Maxim told her that Alina was a type of Grisha called an Inferni, and needed to go to the Little Palace to train. Liars, Alina had thought; Inferni conjured fire, not golden light. She kept quiet, however, not caring enough about her mother to call them out on the lie. Regardless, Saran Starkova had fought and kicked and screamed at the idea of her daughter being taken away. Such rages were typical of her, but not in front of other people. As ever, Alina was unimpressed by this display. She had learned long ago to take all her mother's moods with a pinch of salt, for they changed like the wind. When it became clear that Alina was going to go, whether she liked it or not, the woman stormed off into the woods behind their house. Alina had stubbornly refused to shed her furious tears when she realised her mother wasn't going to say goodbye, and set her face in a scowl.

Her father had not protested, just said in his gruff voice that it was for the best, and helped her pack the few things she owned under the watchful gaze of Maxim and Alyona. His apparent carelessness stung almost as much as Mother storming off had done, but as he'd said, she would only be a target here now everyone knew what she was. The Shu would be there in an instant to steal her away; they raided border villages enough as it was. He told her to write to them, even though his reading was not as good as hers, and patted her shoulder before watching her be hurried into the Grisha carriage that had appeared out the front of their house.

Alyona and Maria had gawped at her at first, from where they sat on the opposite bench. It was unnerving and strange, and Alina didn't like it. But by now, the second day of their journey, the awe seemed to have worn off a little after they had been on the receiving end of her 'bad attitude' (as her schoolteacher called it).

"Have you never bathed before, malyshka?" Alyona was still nattering on to Ekaterina, tone irritatingly sympathetic. She did have a point, however. The girl's family must have been very poor indeed, and that was coming from the daughter of a weaver and hunter. Ekaterina's dress was almost at her knees - far too small for her, torn and grubby - and her hair was a dirty blonde mess.

"Tetya Sofia doesn't have much money," The girl flushed. "And when she does, she spends it on her children," Her lip wavered, likely as she realised she had been taken from her family and wasn't going back. Or maybe she just didn't like being called dirty. All Alina hoped for was that this girl didn't start crying too.

"You lived with your aunt?" Alyona asked.

"Yes - Mama and Papa and Uncle Pyotr are at war. We live near Poliznaya, but they got sent far away, to near Fjerda,"

Alyona tutted, turning to Maria. "This is why they should never have let women in the First Army. I knew it was a bad idea when the King first decreed it ten years ago,"

"But then they would've had even less money," Alina said.

Alyona ignored her, though the other girl shot her a grateful smile. "Well it's a good thing you're now Grisha," The woman smiled at Ekaterina in a way that was meant to be kind. "Your aunt will have one less mouth to feed, and the stipend that's sent to families will likely be more than your parents earn together!"

She said that as though it was something to be proud of. Alina pulled a face and turned back to the window. Perhaps her mother could get that new silk thread she wanted. Misha could get shoes that actually fit, and didn't have any holes in. And Father could get some ointment for his bad leg; that injury had been the reason he was discharged from the army when Mother was pregnant with Alina, and had pained him ever since.

They really were better off without her, weren't they?

The carriage trundled on, and on, and on. The second day turned into the third, then the fourth. Even though her eyes were all but glued to the window in interest at the new countryside they were travelling through, Alina was ready to tear her hair out at the sound of Alyona's voice. The unrelenting, backhanded pleasantness was putting her on edge. Surely she couldn't keep this up all the time? She would have to snap soon.

"What kind of Grisha are you Ekaterina?" She asked pointedly when there was a lull in the one-sided conversation, cutting the older woman off before she could open her mouth again.

She was genuinely curious about the girl's answer. Unlike Mal, she had never hated or feared the Grisha. Her only friend in Temgora had run off the day the examiners came, leaving her all alone to be taken. He'd tried to drag her with him, and she'd tried to get him to stay. Neither were successful. She felt another sharp stab of missing him, sorry that he hadn't come back in time to say goodbye before she was hurried away. What was the big rush, anyway? Why had they lied to her parents that it was fire she could summon? And why had they been staring at her that first day in the carriage? Something strange was going on, and the Grisha weren't telling her what.

The other girl caught her hint immediately, judging from the sly look on her face. "Maria said I'm a Fabrikator, like she is. And call me Katya. Ekaterina is too long,"

"It is," Alina agreed. "What does a Fabrikator do?"

"Before they found you, Maria was saying how they'll teach me to make amazing things with magic,"

"The Small Science," Maria corrected gently.

"Don't let the Darkling hear you call it magic," Alyona chuckled, and chuckled some more at Katya's wide eyes. "Oh sorry, child. I forget what they tell otkazat'sya children. He's not the monster those horrible stories talk about, promise. Besides, you'll most likely hardly see him. He's a General after all - very busy,"

"Otkazat'sya?" Alina frowned. "What does that mean?"

"People who aren't Grisha," Maria said after too long of a pause. It sounded like another one of those lies that adults often told.

Katya and Alina shared a doubtful look.

"What does it really mean?"

"You're quite a clever girl, aren't you?" Alyona beamed at her, but Alina narrowed her eyes, as she did at any kind of praise - particularly praise so patronising - as it was often a trick. "Otkazat'sya really does mean non-Grisha. But in Old Ravkan, it translates as 'the abandoned'. Those not blessed by the Making at the Heart of the World with an affinity for the Small Science,"

Alina was silent for a moment, thinking on that. She had thought she was otkazat'sya until four days ago, and had never felt abandoned.

"What will happen to us at the Little Palace?" Katya addressed Maria, but it was Alyona who answered.

"Every child gets a bed in a dormitory," Alyona explained. "You'll be with around eight girls your own age. Perhaps you two will even share, wouldn't that be nice?" Neither of them said anything; in Alina's case not because she disliked the idea, but because she disliked Alyona. "Then you'll go to lessons. You'll learn things like literacy, mathematics, history and languages as well as Grisha theory and the Small Science. Oh, and combat training for you, Alina. Can't forget that,"

"Why doesn't Katya get combat training?"

"Because she's a Fabrikator, dear. They don't fight in the Second Army, as a rule. They stay at the Little Palace and create wonderful things to help Ravka,"

Katya seemed rather relieved by this news.

"What type of Grisha am I?" Alina asked. "I know it's not Inferni. I'm not stupid. I know it wasn't fire that came out my hand,"

The two women looked at each other, hesitating.

"You're a Sun Summoner," Maria said with too much care. "You can control light,"

"I haven't heard of those before," Katya said. "There were lots of Grisha in Poliznaya, because of the camp. There were Inferni, Squallers, Tidemakers, Heartrenders and Healers, but never any Sun Summoners. Do they stay behind at the Little Palace, like the Fabrikators?"

"Something like that," Maria mumbled.

Alina knew she wasn't telling the truth. "Why did you lie, before?" Before she could push them to answer, the carriage ground to a halt.

"What on earth are - " Alyona broke off as Maxim shouted something from outside, face changing immediately from that beaming, cheerful expression to a serious, deadly focus. A soldier's face. "Maria, hide the children,"

Alina's head snapped around, following her stare out of the glass window. Her blood ran cold at the sight of dozen wild-looking men in furs, carrying heavy axes, charging out of the forest towards them. For as long as she could remember, she had known what to do when armed men who weren't wearing First Army uniform appeared. Run and hide.

If she was at school, all the children ran for the woods. They would come back only when someone came to find them. The village would always be in chaos. People's things destroyed or stolen, many people hurt or injured, even killed on the worst raids. Alina had been about three years old when she had first seen a dead body, and remembered that first one vividly even now, even when the sight no longer shocked her.

The Shu came over the border three or four times a year, mostly to steal supplies. Grain stores, preserves, meat, animals. Lots of the time the soldiers didn't stop at supplies, stealing any valuables they could get their hands on, not that the villagers had much. For this reason, most people kept any worthy possessions well hidden. The soldiers took what they wanted, and beat and killed anyone who tried to stop them.

But sometimes they were after information. Have you seen any of Ravka's army? Do they store supplies and weapons here? Do you know any of their movements? Future plans? The Shu did not mind using force to get these answers, either, and just like the sight of dead bodies, Alina had become outwardly numb to the screams of her tortured neighbours, even if it made her insides curl and plagued her sleep with nightmares. She didn't know why they kept asking all those questions. The army was never anywhere near here. The King didn't care enough about people like them to bother protecting their village.

Most families kept their young daughters hidden as well as their valuables. Alina had been six when she had seen a girl - pretty redhaired Sanya, who lived five doors away - being raped. She asked her father what they were doing to her, and he had very bluntly told her. That had been a rude awakening to a different kind of torture.

Father was naturally a suspicious man, and did not want to take any chances with his Shu wife and his children who looked enough like their mother. The soldiers would consider her a traitor and make an example by stringing her up in a tree, the words 'traitor' or 'whore' carved into her chest; rumour was that such things had happened to others. Father had built a hidden trapdoor for them to hide under. It didn't lead to a cellar, they were too poor for that, but a hollowed out hole in the ground under the floorboards. This was where they all crammed inside when there was no time to run to the woods.

Alina hated the hole. It was too small, even for just her, Mother and Misha, horrible and dark. The sides felt like they were pressing in on her. The sound of booted feet stomping around the house above, accented voices shouting at father, hitting him, all their things being raided and looted, featured heavily in her nightmares. She and Mal had tried exploring a cave once, and she had been unable to carry on, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps when she tried to make herself. Her mind kept conjuring the feeling of being back under the floorboards. It had been very embarrassing, though Mal had been concerned rather than mocking, and Alina had avoided small dark spaces where possible ever since.

She would've given anything to be in that hole now.

These men were not Shu, but they were not friendly, and they were running right at them. The sounds of fighting, axes connecting and bullets firing, could be heard all around the carriage, which suddenly seemed flimsy. There was the unmistakable sound of bodies hitting the ground, the screams of dying men. The attackers were all around them, and there was nowhere else to go.

Alyona was barking something at Maria, who gathered Katya and Damiel close to her, reaching out for Alina, who shrank away on instinct. The Heartrender no longer looked motherly at all. She got to her feet, standing in the doorway with her hands outstretched. Ignoring Maria's increased calls to come to her, Alina peered around Alyona, seeing the attackers fall, clutching their chests. It was the first time she'd seen Heartrender powers in action, and it was both impressive and terrifying.

Then Alyona staggered. Alina's eyes widened in shock as a bullet ripped through the woman's head, spattering them all with blood and gore; Alina in particular, as she was so close. Maria let out a startled cry, clutching Katya and Damiel to her, trying to turn their heads away as they screamed. Alina felt rather numb, her mind dissociating at the same time as her heart pounded in her chest.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was scrambling over Alyona's dead body, out of the carriage.

"Stop it, Alina!" Maria was shrieking at her. "Come back, come back, he'll kill me if you die!"

Alina didn't have the capacity to listen to her. Everyone in their party outside the carriage was dead. Maxim, Alyona, the driver dressed in black. Lots of their attackers were dead too, but a lot of them weren't. These men all turned to her. Huge, strong, armed men.

"Drusje," One ground out in a foreign accent, eyes narrowed in hate. Another brought out a set of strange handcuffs, which held the wrists apart. All guns were turned on her.

I'm going to die, Alina thought. Some old instinct had her holding up her hands in front of her. And the whole world went blinding white.

*

Thanks for reading this story, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and all that is to come! I like to treat my author's notes almost as a book club, as I find it helps me improve the story and clear up any confusion, so please let me know what you think. I love any feedback, be that positive or constructive criticism, even just a few words.

Obviously Alina's personality is very different in this story, in a way I rarely see in fanfics; if you want an in-world explanation, just assume the influence of living parents made her this way. The general goal here is to make her a worthy rival/equal for the Darkling, while still highlighting the toxicity between them, and also to just write a character (and complex relationship) I find interesting and entertaining.

Whole story edit was published in November 2023. This is mostly minor changes; no big plot points are different, so you don't need to reread, I just fixed some small plot holes, inconsistencies, loose ends, wording and grammar choices (my spellcheck software when I first wrote this was abysmal, and my dyslexia was clearly out to get me), and made some stronger thematic choices.