Despite the looming darkness of the Fold, being stationed in Kribirsk was a dream come true for Valeriya. Her time was divided between the grandeur of Os Alta and the ruggedness of Kribirsk, but it was truly the atmosphere of the First Army that captivated her. The Little Palace reeked of grandiosity, yet its residents were often too stuck up and arrogant, suffocating her with their constant squabbling. Valeriya longed to be free, to act as she wanted, but with the name Grisha attached to her, it was next to impossible.

The First Army offered a different side of the coin; there she could laugh and roll in the mud and fight alongside her comrades without the need to uphold the Grisha reputation. In Kribirsk, Valeriya felt alive. The raw and unfiltered interactions of her comrades gave her a sense of belonging she never found at the Little Palace. She relished the early morning drills, the shared meals, and the nights spent under the stars, where elaborate stories weave together under the gaze of the Fold, creating a protective bubble around the soldiers. The smell of gunpowder and the constant hum of activity were a welcome change from the sterile perfection of the Little Palace.

In those moments she could savor the seconds of freedom, forgetting the burdens of her title and simply be Valeriya. She cherished the moments spent at the Prince's side as his "guard dog" under the Grisha General's orders. The assignment gave her the opportunity to be at the front lines, right under the nose of the Fold, soaking up the exhilaration and purpose.

Valeriya may have joined his side late in his military career, but she stayed by him as he rose through the ranks, earning the title he could have been given as Prince. When the Prince decided to take up an education in Ketterdam, straying from his military path, Valeriya was removed from his side,

Valeriya was locked back in the trap set for her the second the testers showed up at her door.

Even if she was still spending time in Kribirsk, the Grisha camp was nothing like the First Army. It was the front lines, but there was something missing about the Grisha side of camp. The days dragged on, the nights chilled deeper to the bone, and the once vibrant colors of Kribirsk turned dull.

It was as if her cage was plucked from Os Alta and set in Kribrisk, keeping her separated from the girl she once was.

So there she sat, on the edge of a plush cot, draped with fabrics created by the Little Palace's Fabrikators, her pale hands flipping through the stack of folded parchment in her lap. She did this every night, reading the words of her Prince, willing the Saints that another letter would show up for her the next morning, only to be disappointed when there was nothing. That was how it was the past year. The letters didn't rely on her presence in Kribirsk, they would even make their way to her in the Little Palace.

A sigh escaped Valeriya's lips and she flopped back on her bed, allowing the letters to fan across her chest. Her eyes wandered from the ceiling of the tent over to the silk partition between herself and Zoya's cot.

Zoya Nazyalensky had rolled her eyes into Valeriya's heart and became her best friend after many years of tension between the two girls. The gorgeous half-Suli girl was a friend Valeirya never would have expected to make when she first came to Os Alta. Even with their rough beginnings, the girls cared deeply for one another and often likened their friendship to sisterhood. No matter what, they would always have each other's back - even if they didn't agree.

Valeriya could practically feel the air pressure shift as the heavy tent flaps to their room blew open and in walked an annoyed Zoya. The tent was divided into interconnected chambers, each room branching off from a central common area, housing two Grisha as roommates. The setup was luxurious compared to the cramped quarters of the First Army, but it also meant sharing a space with someone who could storm in like a hurricane at any moment—like Zoya just did.

"Good evening Zoya, out tumbling some poor First Army boy?" Valeriya teased, shielding herself with a pillow as a grape flew from Zoya's hand.

"He turned me down, instead stealing some grapes off the main table to bring to his friend," Zoya replied, rolling her eyes and flinging her kefta onto her bed before collapsing onto it.

Valeriya laughed. His friend was probably anxious about the Fold. To tell the truth, so was she. Despite her numerous crossings, the unease never quite left.

Zoya turned her head to look at Valeriya, who could tell her eyes were settling on the letters pooled around the girl. They'd fallen from her chest when she'd sat up at Zoya's arrival.

"Are those the letters from your prince again?" Zoya asked, settling into bed.

Valeriya shot Zoya a glare. Valeriya gathered up her letters, putting them into their tin and tucking them under her bed. "Bite me."

"I thought that was his job?"

Valeriya scowled but let Zoya have the last word, opting to stew in her nerves rather than bicker.

"Night, Vale," Zoya mumbled, tugging her quilt over her head.

"Nighty night, Zoya," Valeriya replied, blowing out the candle illuminating their room.

The next morning was fraught with nerves. Valeriya could barely stomach her breakfast, the steaming oatmeal in front of her turning her stomach. She nibbled on the small pieces of fruit Zoya passed her from across the table. The girls were quiet, listening to the mindless chatter of the Grisha around them.

Even if Valeriya had crossed the Fold a thousand times, she doubted the unease would ever fade. It churned her stomach and pinched her mind. Zoya noticed Valeriya's quiet nerves and kept her foot on Valeriya's boot to comfort her. They were experts at reading each other's emotions, masking their true feelings from others.

Valeriya finished her meal quickly, eager to board the skiff before it became chaotic. The new skiff design was supposed to be faster. She had packed the night before (Zoya hadn't and had to wake up early to do so). Her pack was already on the skiff, and she checked her watch before speeding to her post.

Punctuality wasn't Valeriya's strong suit, but as a Corporalki, the highest order of Grisha besides the Darkling, she could get away with it.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed as she bumped into a Shu girl with a blue scarf. Odd. It was unusual to see someone Shu - especially with the current tensions between the countries. The girl must've been partially Shu, or else she would not be allowed into the camp except in chains. Ravka had been at war against the Shu for quite some time now.

Surprisingly, Valeriya wasn't the last Grisha to arrive. She squeezed Zoya's hand for luck before taking her post at the edge of the skiff, facing the menacing Fold. Her stomach churned at the sight. The Fold was terrifying, with its shipwrecks and volcra. Those damn volcra scared the hell out of Valeriya, and she could stop human hearts. She couldn't imagine the fear of the First Army soldiers.

In the back of the skiff, the Shu girl and a burly boy appeared to be arguing. Valeriya focused on the Squallers, waiting for their signal. Zoya stood at the bow, her back to Valeriya.

Once all the First Army soldiers were loaded, the gate to the skiff closed. There was no turning back now.

"Sergeant! What now?" the boy with the Shu girl asked.

"The Grisha will tell us," he replied.

The girl looked at Valeriya, who shook her head. She had no desire to lead a Fold-bound mission.

"Not her. The Inferni," the sergeant said, pointing at Natacha, who stood in front of the mast.

Natacha clapped her hands and said, "Here's how it goes. We go into the Fold, it gets dark, but we like it dark."

She walked forward, glancing around. Valeriya smiled at her.

"That keeps us from drawing attention. The only light we use is the blue one at the mast. It's weak but safe," Natacha continued.

A cartographer asked, "But you're an Inferni, right? Why are you here if we're supposed to keep things dark?"

Natacha replied, "For when the dark comes to keep you." Valeriya smirked at Natacha's dramatics.

The boy piped up again. "Where's your General? Kirigan?"

Valeriya rolled her eyes. If asked, she would have said Kirigan was sipping tea in his palace. Who would think the Darkling would accompany them on a trip across the Fold? Idiots, that's who.

The sail was released, showing the Ravakan double eagle.

"That's our cue," Natacha said.

The Squallers, including Zoya, lifted their hands and pushed air into the sails. The skiff lurched forward.

There was no turning back now.

Author's note (8/18/24)

What do you guys think about the rewrite? I'm trying to clean up plot holes based on changes and - in my opinion - some crappy writing on my part lol.

Love y'all!