𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 — under attack

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 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐊𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐓𝐎 herself as they meandered over the piles of snow, drawing further and further away from the smoke of the pyres. Aleksa could still feel the cold touch of a skeleton lingering atop her shoulder, no matter how hard she tried to focus on the remnant of warmth Kaz had left behind.

 It was getting worse. The Darkling often kept quite, perhaps he'd whisper that stupid little saying of his 'like call to like' but a whole mess of words tangled like the most intricate of dirtied knots? Words that had struck her heart as though Inej had flung one of her dull blades... It ached now, her heart. Even as she trudged through thick snow, as she batted flakes from her eyelashes... it hurt.

 It was awful really, that her mind seemed only to remember his touch, the words of poison he'd spat... rather than the three bodies that had been left to smoulder right out in the open. Those could have been people she knew. One could have been beautiful Zoya, dear Genya, soft little Petra... what if it was? What if she was so very selfishly thinking of her own ghosts rather than mourning her kind?

 Aleksa sucked in a breath, relishing the way the cold burned her throat. Kaz was a pace behind and she could hear as his cane struck the rock hidden beneath snow every now and then. He kept his pace in time with her own, never drawing closer, and yet never straying further. She rather appreciated that as she stewed within her simmering rage, licking at ever-raw wounds.

 She was the Shadow. The Grisha that shouldn't exist... the last of her kind, and she had frozen like a deer.

 Aleksa could just about feel Inej's warmth from her side. The Wraith had been as quiet as ever, knowing exactly when and where she needed to hold her tongue. No whispers, no glances... Just her presence was gifted, and that was exactly what Aleksa needed.

 For so long Aleksa had managed to weasel her way through the darkness, hiding within their coddling arms... they protected her in the same way she reached out to soothe them. Nobody had gotten their hands on her, never had she been staring down the barrel of a gun — absolutely discounting the numerous gang fights she'd been in — or had her arms trapped with those strange druskelle contraptions... though, those wouldn't exactly work on her.

 Still, there were some Grisha that had nowhere to turn. They might stumble down a path beaten and bruised... and should a druskelle find them, certain death was afoot.

 Aleksa ignored the prattling spouting from behind, the way Matthias pointed a grubby and pale finger into Nina's chest as he spilled exactly the reason he'd been thrust into Hellgate. It was a story Aleksa knew... simply because Kaz had known. Poor little Helvar had trusted the big bag Grisha and found himself deemed a slaver, but that wasn't the full story. Nina had done it to save him, to give him a fate he'd be able to escape from, rather than finding himself at the mercy of wronged Grisha who wanted nothing more than the solace only revenge could offer.

 What did it matter anymore? Matthias was free. Nina naming him a slaver hadn't cost him his title, no, that had been his foolish heart; not that Aleksa was one to judge such a pitiful organ reaching for the unattainable.

 She ignored their squabbles, the rising voices that grated at her mind... It would have been an easy feat to get lost in the mounds of snow ahead, to watch the trees dancing in the whistling wind, but then the ground shifted.

 Aleksa's arm flung to the side, and she and Inej clung to one another as they righted their footing. Kaz braced himself upon his cane, hands impossibly tightening while Nina flung her arms out — almost smacking Matthias — in an attempt to regain her balance.

 Wylan frowned, tapping his shoe against the ground, "Are there fault lines this far north?"

 "No —" Matthias had tried to answer, only for his voice to shatter the moment a slab of unruly earth shot from beneath his boots. It knocked him to the ground, his arm buckling beneath his weight.

 Another erupted, right by Aleksa who, with as much grace as she could muster, hopped backwards. She'd grown rather used to stepping out of the way of Kaz's delightful cane, a shard of earth as big as Jesper was nothing... But a multitude of them was another story.

 Slab after slab burst upwards, a mixture of rock and crystal clear ice that glinted as it tumbled through the sky, catching the sunlight as it went. Snow was sent into the air in a flurry, like a whirlwind of chilly flakes that sought only to make their cheeks hurt.

 Jesper grabbed his pistols, if only for some comfort, "What the hell is this?"

 Inej tightened her hold on Aleksa as yet another shard erupted just inches from their faces, "Some kind of earthquake!"

 "No," Nina whispered, hardly intelligible over the howling wind tearing through the air. She pointed a finger towards the sky, where a dark figure seemed to be floating, entirely unaffecting by the whipping winds, "We're under attack."

 It was a Squaller, that much was obvious. Nobody could kick up such a breeze except for Zoya who simply loved to ruffle Aleksa's hair whenever she could... But this Squaller was flying, and Aleksa was fairly certain she'd never seen her beloved Nazyalensky hover in the damned skies. They'd taken Jurda Parem, it was the only possible explanation... and that meant that they were going to have a serious fight on their hands.

 Aleksa could feel the shadows calling to her, slithering beneath the pine trees wavering behind her. They jittered and whispered as they remained as part of the shade cast on the ground, practically begging to come forth and protect her as well as they could.

 Aleksa swiftly snapped the goggles from atop her head back onto her eyes, thankful their watering ceased the moment they were free of frozen air. While she believed everything Kaz spouted, for she was certain he hadn't the energy to bother lying to her, it was something different to truly see the effects of the drug.

 "Aleksa! Down!"

 Kaz's voice was laden with grit and Aleksa wasted no time in simply letting herself fall. Her elbow brushed his gloved fingers as she tucked her cheeks closer into the snow; they stung like a rose smothering in thorns, ready to bleed some pitiful fool dry... But when an explosion rang out, filling the air with heat so sark to the chill they'd scarcely grown used to, Aleksa found she was quite alright if her cheek turned blue, rather than being blistered.

 The explosion had burst into life just to the right of the frantic Squallor; the winds hastily dropped and the Grisha high above was thrown off course and while it took them only a beat of time to right themselves, such a pause was just enough time for Jesper to aim the rifle he'd pulled from his shoulder.

 The gun fired, but it simply wasn't enough.

 The slabs of ice kept coming. Shard of earth kept splintering... and Aleksa said all that she could as she grabbed Jesper's arm, "Cover me."

 His response was instantaneous, "Always," He planted his back against her own, eyes cast to the skies as he aimed and fired, aimed and fired. Each shot was useless, a sorry excuse of his skills... yet he knew whatever his little ladybug was concocting would be worth the bullets pathetically falling into the snow.

 Aleksa held her hands out the moment Jesper concealed her form. His body honed over her like a tree protecting a little squirrel. The first place she felt the odd sense of buzzing was her wrists. Her veins pulsed and writhed beneath her skin, a gruesome sight that she knew Wylan had spied... for the boy made an odd sort of sound.

 The blackness swamping her blood trailed higher and higher, and soon enough she appeared just as she had after the scuffle on the docks. Black lines traced her limbs, crawling up her arms, weaselling out of her collar to burst over her neck.

 Nina gasped, Aleksa heard it as clear as day as the shadows spilt from her palms. There was no calling out to the darkness resting below the trees, to whispering to the billowing smoke coiling beneath each of their bodies... no, this wasn't small science.

 Piece by piece her puzzle came together. First was a leg laden with claws. Next a towering body that jittered and buzzed like a mass of hungry insects... then came the arms, each equipped with gangly hands akin to that of a skeleton. Wings sprouted... and then the head formed.

 There was a wetness upon Aleska's forehead, her skin burning even amidst the Fjerdan winter. Merzost came with a cost, after all. The second the beast before Aleksa was formed, causing Matthias to stumble away, causing Nina to clamp her lips shut as her fingers hovered over them... causing Kaz to peer up with an entirely unrecognisable expression... the monster surged.

 Aleksa was never one to let another fight her battles, even the dutiful and loyal Nichyevo she called for. She docked an arrow, watching as shadows spilled from her palms and coiled around the shaft. One... Two... Three... then she shot around Jesper.

 In sync, both a bullet and shadow-encased arrow plunged into the Squallor. Metal connected with his leg while the flint arrowhead tore through a shoulder. There was a scream from afar as the nichyevo did as it was born to do... it slaughtered whatever drug-laden Grisha had risen ice and rock their way, trapping them like pigs in a pen. One by one the slabs fell, in time with the Sqaullor who hurtled through the sky, a rush of blood in his wake.

 The nichyevo snatched him before he could land... and with a gentleness the Black Heretic couldn't have ever brought out of the monster, it placed the Grisha on the ground, almost cradling his head before it slumped in the snow.

 Aleksa heaved a breath, unwilling to meet anybody's eyes. She didn't need to see Nina to know the woman was entirely aghast. Aleksa was certain she knew exactly what had happened, what power had been summoned, "Nina? Lecture me later."

 "I intend to." Her voice was weak, as though she was ready to keel over and vomit... but hey, they were all alive and with so few casualties.

 Aleksa could feel the sluggishness already, the light sting of a cut blossoming on her cheek from the ice and stone that had rattled against her flesh. Still, she marched onwards as her darling nichyevo remained by the Squallor's side.

 "Thank you," She whispered, fingers grazing the writhing shadows that so strangely resembled a basket full of rattling snakes. The nichyevo seemed to bow, or perhaps it laid on its front like a loyal little hound... either way, soon enough its shadows dispersed until nothing but a wisp remained.

 Behind her, Aleksa could ever so faintly hear Kaz telling Jesper to scout their perimeter for any further surprises... rather uncalled for considering her beloved nichyevo would have sniffed them out in seconds.

 Aleksa crouched in the snow, her already soaking trousers were only flooded further as snow wept water into them like sorrowful tears. There was a light stain of blood as she kneeled before the wounded Squallor.

 His knee was spouting blood, a clean hole was torn straight through while the arrow Aleksa had shot remained in his shoulder. The shadows had crawled from the flint head, seeping into his skin... a light smattering of black encased his sobbing wound. By the looks of him, he wouldn't last long enough for the shadows to overcome him... but as Aleksa leaned closer, prying a hood from the man's hair...

 "Nestor?" She muttered. He looked different now, for the last Aleksa had seen of him had been months ago, exactly six. He was a young man of only eighteen years, scarcely younger than those surrounding him as though he were an animal in a cage.

 His once-youthful face was flooded with fatigue. The skin beneath his eyes was the shade of aged wine, lingering remnants of blue swirled within. He hadn't properly rested in weeks, that much was clear.

 There was a stab at Aleksa's gut as he whimpered. He shouldn't have been there...

 "I need a little more," the Grisha mumbled. "Just a little more." He grabbed at Aleksa's hand, and she could just about see the way Kaz's cane was lifted from the ground.

 She shook her head, eyes still upon a weeping Nestor. Her fingers remained open and still as he clawed at her palms, "Nestor?"

 Nestor blinked, eyes glazed.

 "Nestor, it's me..." Aleksa's voice was soft like the gentle caress of a silk gown, like the tickle of a feather. Those around her could feel themselves relax, shoulders slumping, muscles releasing — the voice of a siren, "It's — It's Lissa. Your commander. Can you —"

 "No, no no..." Nestor shook his head wildly, blood smearing over the snow, "Your face —" He breathed, "Your face is wrong."

 "I know, but you remember my voice, yes? I yelled at you enough when you sent blasts of hot air at poor David."

 His lips twitched as his mind truly fought to display such a memory. But in the end, Nestor only gritted his teeth, "Please," he begged, his face crumpling. "I need more."

 "Parem?"

 "Yes, the Shu! The Shu!" he sobbed, and even across his face Aleksa couldn't spy a true lick of pain for the injuries he'd sustained. His craving for parem clutched at him, numbing his body to all weeping wounds, "Yes. Please. More."

 "Nestor..." Aleksa sighed as he sobbed and snivelled like a babbling child. His cheeks were growing paler and paler, his hand clawing at her own turning to stone. Aleksa curled her fingers, softly rubbing her thumb over his knuckles, "I'm sorry, I can't give you more."

 "Aleksa —" Nina tried, her hands already in the air, trying to reach for his heart.

 "Don't, Nina," Aleksa said, her eyes never leaving Nestors even as a glaze overcame them. This was her fault and she could already hear the dull cry of the Black Heretic's voice prompting such thoughts further.

 She had been the one to send him out that day, to ensure that one of their borders was as secure as it should have been... he'd never returned, and neither had the Grisha she'd sent with him. Weeks had passed and even with scouts and trackers, they found no remnants of their crew, no sliver of information to indicate where Nestor and his team had disappeared to.

 Many had turned up their nose, professing they'd finally turned tail and run away from their duties; Aleksa wouldn't have blamed them if it had been the truth... but Nestor had always tried to prove himself. He fought with all of his strength, he listened as intently as anyone when she gave her orders... and now here he was.

 Aleksa dropped her head, watching the way his skin blanched as the seconds ticked, "Nestor, we won, you now? We defeated him, but we never stopped looking for you and the others. Even now I'm sure Nikolai and Zoya are sending Grisha to and fro to find you... I'll tell them that you followed your orders until the end."

 It was then, that Nestor seemed to see clearly, if only for a fleeting second, "You will?"

 "Of course." Aleksa could dully make out the light stomps of Kaz and Jesper trudging through the snow, the way they shook their heads when Matthias inquired of further threats, stating that there was only a small party heading south. It didn't matter, Aleksa steeled her face, "I'll write to your — to your brother. I'll tell him."

 "Yes. Yes, Stefan. Tell — Tell Stef —" Nestor choked as blood tumbled up his throat, spilling onto his tongue. It dribbled down his front, as bright as a poppy... his cheeks were an ashen grey now, his eyes fluttering.

 Aleksa withdrew a knife, "Nestor? Could you close your eyes?"

 "Why?"

 "I want you to tell me what happened when you were taken..."

 But there wouldn't be enough time for him to say another word. He was too far gone, too grey and cold to survive another measly little minute. When he shut his eyes, relishing in the little breeze brushing the hairs slumped on his forehead, Aleksa brought the knife to his heart.

 Her voice was tight, pulled taut as she watched one of her own submit to the misery of his own body, "Take a deep breath..." He did as he was told, "Okay, tell me,"

 "When I —" He fell silent.

 Both of Aleksa's hands had curled around the frozen hilt of the knife, plunging it within his heart in a single and swift movement... she dropped her head, forehead resting against her own hands as blood trailed before her eyes.

 There was bickering again, as Kaz proclaimed Jesper's gunshot had brought them near, in turn, the sharpshooter flung a hand at Matthias and Nina, blaming their incessant squabbling. Inej muttered no words to any of them as she breezed by, taking a knee in the snow. Her hands were placed to her heart as she mumbled one of her prayers, pleading that the passing Sqaullor would find safe passage to his next life.

 "Aleksa?" Inej mumbled, warm hands curling around the summoners. She pried them from the knife, "I'm sorry —"

 "— It's okay." But it wasn't. It wasn't okay in the slightest. Nestor should never have found his way to Fjerda, he should have gotten to his post, spent the night, and trailed back the way he came. Three days; it should have taken just three days. He should have been welcomed back to the palace as his little brother clambered onwards — he'd only just turned twelve when Nestor had left.

 Aleksa brushed snow from her knees as she stood, though it did very little to soothe the blue skin settled beneath the sodden fabric of her trousers. Her hand jutted, ready to pry the knife free... she did. It was smothered in fresh blood and Aleksa had nothing but the clothes on her body to wipe it free. She cleaned the blade in the crook of her elbow.

 "I don't understand," said Nina, her voice steadily bleeding into Aleksa's ringing ears, "If they have jurda parem, why go after Bo Yul-Bayur?"

 "It's possible they have a stash of it, but can't reproduce his process," Kaz said. "That's what the Merchant Council seemed to think. Or maybe they just want to make sure Yul-Bayur doesn't give the formula to anyone else."

 "We'll see more of them." Aleksa spoke, and swiftly all eyes fell to her, each set pretending to ignore the blood flowing right towards her boots, "If the Shu want Yul-Bayur, they'll send more drugged Grisha to collect him."

 "You think they'll use them to break into the Ice Court?" Inej asked.

 "Why wouldn't they? If just one Squallor and Fabrikator can do that..."

 Matthias nodded grimly, "If there had been a Heartrender, we'd all be dead."

 Aleksa blew out a white puff of air as Inej bumped into her. The Wraith smiled ever so lightly, "It would have been a close thing... if not for that..." Her brows huddled together, a small divot burrowing its way into her bronze skin, "What exactly was that thing?"

 "A nichyevo," Aleksa said quite blankly, as though it cleared everything up. She'd been ready for Nina's scolding, ready for a finger to be jabbed right in her face about the dangers of Merzost, that it was just as consuming as jurda parem... but Aleksa was tired.

 Jesper bobbed his head, slinging his rifle back onto his shoulder, "Thanks bug, clears up a lot."

 Nina shook her head, "She used Merzost."

 Aleksa hadn't expected Jesper to even know what it was... but the sharpshooter whipped his head to and fro so quickly she thought it might topple off, "Ma told me..." He gaped, "Bug, tell me you're joking."

 Wylan frowned, "What's Merzost?"

 "It —"

 " — It doesn't matter." Aleksa snapped, "We're alive, aren't we? Yes, good, can we get a damned move on?"

 "We need to bury them," Nina said. Her eyes were swamped with tears; she'd known Nestor from her own time within the little palace. She could remember watching the Squiallors train together, being in utter awe of Zoya as she commanded the breeze with such elegance and poise.

 Nestor had been kind, he'd made her laugh by sending a stray gust towards the picture-perfect Zoya. They'd watched her stumble, humour on their tongue... until she'd stomped closer and closer with nothing but fury in those sapphire eyes of hers.

 Kaz shook his head, "The ground's too hard, and we don't have the time. The Shu team is still moving towards Djerholm. We don't know how many other Grisha they may have, and Pekka's team could already be inside."

 "We can't just leave them for the wolves," Nina's voice grew tighter, and she looked to Aleksa for help.

 She received nothing as Aleksa stared down at the trail of blood that had frozen in its path. It had reached her boots, clinging like a lifeline to the leather. They did deserve a burial, but what kind of Grisha deserved to be buried in the lands that killed them? The lands of those who wished for nothing more than to see all Grisha dead? Better to let nature consume them and thrive, than to leave them below the surface of a country that hated them.

 But Kaz just had to twist his words in the most sarcastic of ways, didn't he?

 "Do you want to build them a pyre?" he asked, rolling his eyes skywards. He made to move, Ignoring the jibe that slipped from Nina's tongue in utter outrage... but he found himself almost nose-to-nose with Aleksa.

 She sneered, and though she had to peer up at his stupid face, she managed to convey just how distasteful she found him to be, "I agree with you." But her words were hissed like a furious viper, "But those are my people. Those are people that trusted me to keep them safe... People I sent to their deaths. You don't get to be spiteful."

 But apparently that wasn't enough for a red-faced Nina, "You agree with him?"

 "Oh, I'm sorry, should I agree to bury my friends beneath the soil of the country that wanted them dead? The country that used them as tools?"

 Nina heaved a great breath, preparing any response she could muster... but nothing came. Aleksa was right. Even if Nestor and the Fabrikator had lived, who could have foretold just how long they'd survive before the druskelle got to them? Dying at the hands of their own, a mercy kill... it was far more fitting than burning on a pyre.

 Matthias broke the fragile silence as though stepping on and shattering a thin film of ice, "I'll do it. I'll help you dig the grave —"

 "— Perfect," Aleksa roved her eyes over his body. The way he towered so tall, yet the moment she looked at him, he sunk beneath the earth. He could see her scorn, feel the flames billowing in her gut. The use of merzost hadn't been enough to flatten the absolute rage flooding her veins, "Have the druskelle bury the Grisha. Better you than your brothers?"

 Matthias, for once, dropped his head, "Just... head due south from here," He said to them all, plucking the pick from his pack, "I know the terrain, and I'll make sure we catch up to you by nightfall. We'll move faster on our own."

 Aleksa watched them go; maybe she should have stepped forward to help. Maybe it would have been better if she were the one to bury the two still slumped in the snow, hearts entirely unmoving. There was no use. It was sardonic, really, but she was right; they deserved so much better than to rot in a country that hated every ounce of their beings.

 She pressed one last look to Nestor, eyes swiftly avoiding Kaz as she trudged onwards... rather grateful as Inej linked their arms and allowed the silence to press on.

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DATE: 08-08-2024

:･ﾟ★ aleksa... i'm so sorry for all the pain i cause you. will i stop? no. but sorry all the same, bestie <3

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