𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄 — nichyevo

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 𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐕'𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 had been an affair lasting for well over a week. While he might have had whispers taunting him behind his back, questions of his true blood, of his legitimacy within the royal family... but that wasn't enough for the Queen — a rather dreadful woman — to turn up her nose and cancel the celebrations.

 When the day finally arrived, and Nikolai flounced about the palace in his familiar sky-blue attire dotted with sprigs of gold, Aleksa had been greeted the moment she awoke beneath the glare of a sunbeam.

 At first, she'd thought Alina had come to blind her for all the jests and jibes Aleksa had made at the Sun Summoner's expense... but no, it was dear Zoya Nazyalensky. The delightful Squaller had tossed the fluttering curtains aside, grinning when Aleksa — rather Lissa — had swatted the tricking sunlight as though she didn't have the power to banish the stream with a mere wiggle of her fingers.

 "Saint's," Aleksa groaned, burying her face within the plush pillow, "Why do you spite me, Zoya?"

 "Spite? No, no, I'm... preparing, let's say. After all, you are expected to dine with Alina and the royal family." Zoya tossed her billowing locks of black hair over her shoulders. The pale embroidery crawling over her blue kefta practically glistened like diamonds, "I'm doing you a favour. You should be thanking me."

 Aleksa dragged herself higher, fingers tangling in the black hair pouring from her pale head. It was still strange to wake with a frock of obsidian trailing the length of her back, to see fingers as pale as Fjerda sprouting from her hands.

 It was expected of Aleksa to be there tonight, to represent her own bloodline and the ties it had made with Ravka. To show loyalty... to prove that she was no longer following the commands of her — of the Black Heretic.

 Nikolai had personally invited her with as much suave as he could muster. His charming face had concocted such a dazzling grin, one truly befitting a prince that could corral the masses to kneel before him.

 He'd poked and prodded at Aleksa's silence, and she had simply let him. It was rather... well, fun to watch a prince slowly descend into madness all to capture her attention. She'd left him with a fleeting sigh and said, "I have to be there."

 "You'll have such charming company, I can assure you!" He had called, voice bellowing through the ground smothered in sweet rose bushes.

 "Of course I will, Alina will be there!"

 He'd been left to grin to himself after that, all the while Aleksa had walked away with a growing, taste of bitterness on her tongue.

 A taste that always seemed to form whenever poor Nikolai Lanstov seemed to fall further and further into an abysmal hole... Aleksa couldn't ever look at him the way he wanted her to, even when they'd... well, when they'd spent a stray night together after filling their guts with just a little too much royal wine.

 Guilt, that was the source of the bitterness. Longing; that only spurred it — longing for somebody she had wished to desperately to be in Nikolai's place, but he was a damned boat ride away, likely painting Ketterdam red with one hand, all the while counting kruge with the other.

 Aleksa had been pried from the confines of her soft and warm bed... it was something she'd forever miss when the war came to its end, when she'd finally find her way back to Ketterdam. Perhaps she'd bring it with her.

 Zoya's voice rang like a bell, "Nikolai sent a servant to bring this to you... but..."

 In her slender fingers, she pinched the sleeves of a Kefta, but it wasn't the one Aleksa could usually be found within. This one was a delightful shade of ocean blue — it would have matched her eyes, had a tired little Tailor not awoken her in the depths of the morning to upkeep the work to her face and body.

 It was the familiar colour that the Etherialki sported; there were gems scattered over the bodice; each of them were as dark as the night sky, as though flickers of the twilight had trailed down like rain, forming shards in the midst of a winter chill.

 Something a little more... showy for the prince's birthday, then.

 Aleksa yawned, arms reaching towards the ceiling, "You thought you'd visit your beloved? Bring it as a gift?"

 "You waste no time in convincing yourself that I'm in love with you."

 "You are."

 "You'd be so lucky."

 Dinner had not been what Aleksa had been expecting.

 At first, the common room filled with royalty slouched in their seats, and servants scurrying like mice, it seemed just fine. Upon taking a seat, and carefully chewing through whatever concoction had been served before her, Aleksa had managed...  but, of course, Vasily, the heir to the throne and Nikolai's delightful elder sibling had eventually taken to stand upon tipsy feet and toast to his dear baby brother.

 He toasted a noble birth with a smile so smug it was almost suffocating. Now while a sense of sourness always trailed down Aleksa's throat whenever Nikolai's glorious eyes were cast her way, Aleksa still had to refrain from wrapping the shadows around Vasily's neck like a noose.

 The eldest brother had taken his chance to profess his own endeavours; he'd managed to convince the Fjerdans to join the fray in the fight against the darkness... though not without their own rules, of course.

 One such rule... had been agreed upon without Aleksa's notice. They wanted her. Alina's face had burst with red, Nikolai had pursed his lips all the while his fingernails tore through the flesh upon his palms beneath the table. Even Mal, stationed at the far end of the room had furrowed his brows.

 But Aleksa had grown so very used to being nothing more than a pawn. She made no face, no argument... The Fjerdans wouldn't have the chance to seize her, and strangely enough, there was something far more worrying that parted Vasily's wine-smeared lips.

 "They also wanted access to a few of the northern logging roads" Vasily had spoken, his flute of bubbling alcohol rattling in his hands. The alcohol had gone to his head before he'd even arrived.

 Nikolai, of course, asked his brother to expand, and when Vasily clarified the paths he'd handed to the Fjerdans — the blockades that had been lifted — Nikolai's chair had almost toppled to the floor and Aleksa found her stomach twisting.

 A road with no blockade. A road right towards the palace with nobody to act as an obstacle... Aleksa knew that Aleksander would have snatched the opportunity to seize the path the moment it had been cleared... and Nikolai feared the very same.

 Nikolai had berated his brother, he'd yelled with such ferocity that Aleksa had found herself stationed behind Alina... just in case. That feeling was there... the feeling that appeared to swirl within her belly whenever Aleksander twisted the shadows.

 This feeling, however, was far worse. Aleksa and felt as though a swarm of bugs had begun to crawl over her skin, a thousand tiny little mouths tearing through her flesh all to grasp at her bones.

 "He's here..." Aleksa hadn't even been aware that she'd spoken. The horror that coated her words like rotten frosting had gathered all attention. All arguments ceased. All servants stilled in their paths, hot plates still burning upon their fingers.

 Mal had abandoned his post, a hand ready to lead Alina.

 Vasily had tried to wrangle their fear, he'd tried to proclaim that Nikolai and his silly little summoner were merely trying to thwart his accomplishments... but all such nonsense had ended when the windows exploded, when glass came pouring down like heavy rainfall.

 There were screams and cries of utter terror; But Aleksa remained completely silent as she finally caught a glimpse of the nichevo'ya; they were horrific things and while Aleksa had thought her nightmares would only have ever been haunted by the Volcra, these were worse. Far, far worse.

 Perhaps it was the noise whirring around them, as though swarms upon swarms of buzzing flies were skittering through the air, perhaps the way they had blank faces... or the way their bodies seemed to blur.

 Their claws were dug into the walls as they clambered through the shattered windows, finding their prey with the utmost ease.

 Nikolai was the first of them all to voice his commands. He didn't dare look to his brother, or to his mother who wailed or to his frail father struggling to even stand from his chair, "Get the King to safety!" He had called as he reached his mother's side, but the guards, like everyone else, were frozen, they were paralysed with fear.

 The nichevo'ya had continued forth, grappling claws made from nothing but the darkness coiled around throats, tore apart limbs and washed the room with vibrant red blood. It looked like the bottles of wine atop the golden table had spilled, flooding like a tidal wave.

 Aleksa, for the first time in a very long time, hadn't known what to do. There were dozens of molten shadows crawling across the floor, the walls and even the ceiling; could she call to them? Could she reach out as she had with the volcra?

 Or was this too much?

 The nichevo'ya were crafted from a different kind of power; Aleksander had abandoned the small science... only Merzost flooded from his fingertips.

 Aleksa had thought over Baghra's teachings time and time again. Her warnings of the line that kept the small science and magic itself from merging into one. The dangers that followed those who dipped into infinite power... But did it matter anymore?

 There would always be a cost for asking for more power; Aleksa had seen it time and time again. Aleksander's past had caught up to him, Alina had to grapple for control of her power, for it was growing with each passing day.

 Merzost requires a sacrifice. It feeds from us, while the small science fuels us.

 Baghra had repeated it until Aleksa had found herself chanting such words in her sleep. The Morozova line was known to fall into power, to crave it like a drunk craved wine and whiskey; but did it matter if she had to give something up?

 Aleksa had years to her life, unlimited time to scour their world whilst everyone around her descended into time-bitten ashes; she could give those years up. She'd happily give those years up.

 Vasily's death had spurred them all to move; the man had pointed his finger at his own brother. He glowered at the Shadow and Sun, insisting they'd brought terror to befall them all... and then the nichevo'ya had torn his shoulder from its socket. He'd hung there, in the air with eyes blown wide as blood slipped from his wound like water from a faucet. 

 The flood had been sticky beneath Aleksa's boots as Mal dragged her along, his other hand coiled around Alina's. They'd ran until their lungs had begged and pleaded for just a moment of respite, but there wasn't an inch of the grounds that wasn't infested with monsters.

 Nikolai had tried his hardest to beckon Aleksa to follow him in his attempts to corral his men to the Kingfisher for a mighty escape, but Aleksa had made a promise the moment she'd stepped onto the ground that had stolen her childhood. Alina Starkov would never be alone. She would never face the darkness without Aleksa by her side to guide her through its depths.

 Thus, Aleksa had let her fingers slide between Alina's, and they stood together as one. They raced through the palace as the Darkling's Grisha streamed forth in their brightly coloured kefta; some wore their faces in the most placid of ways, while others... they looked utterly terrified at the chaos they were causing, but they were simply just too afraid to change the side in which they stood.

 The nichevo'ya came in the masses; everywhere Aleksa had looked there was always a smattering of shadows crawling forth. She could sense them, and the feeling had almost been overwhelming.

 Alina did her best, she summoned the sunlight and used the cut against the beasts whilst Aleksa did the very same. It was strange to see the shadows defeated by their own kind, but like the Volcra, they could still fall.

 Their goal had been to reach the mirrors David Kostyk had crafted; mirrors that influenced Alina's powers so far beyond belief... that they might have been the only hope they had.

 However, when they reached the mirrors there was just one left. It was surrounded by armed Grisha, protecting their only palpable way out with their lives. Poor David had been there, clinging to a rifle as though he'd never seen one before.

 Then, when David caught their eyes, he gave the whistle around his neck two hard blasts... the remaining Durasts around the mirror heaved it into position and before they'd even drawn away, Alina lifted her hands and send light billowing towards the dish. The whistle blew and the Durasts tilted the dish. A beam of pure and vibrant sunlight tore through the skies and slashed through the nichevo'ya in its path. They were left as nothing more than a nightmare on the wind.

 But then, while hope began to trickle forth, a stray nichevo'ya broke through the sunlight and clambered for the mirror. Its claws curled and its body jittered like the beat of a hummingbird's wings. The mirror rocked and that's when Aleksa had stepped forth.

 The sunlight seared her skin as she drew closer, Alina's yells were beating against her ears... and the nichevo'ya ahead just... stopped. Aleksa twisted her hands, and the shadows along the rooftop followed her directions, beneath her was what looked like an endless pit of absolute darkness; it thrived even beneath the glare of the Sun Summoners' amplified powers.

 Aleksa had read the books that Alina had managed to smuggle from the library; the books depicting her family. The power in which Morozova had gathered was terrifying... but even Aleksa could feel the ease it which it encased her bones.

 The shadows within her hold trailed forth like a smattering of hungry vipers, they skittered along the rooftop, coiled around what appeared to be the nichevo'ya's legs... and the beast stood there. Waiting.

 She could hear Mal call out, his gun firing soon after... but while the shell might have torn through the nichyevo, Aleksa coddled the beast, granting it protection. Because that was what she did, wasn't it? Aleksander commanded; he bellowed and screamed... Aleksa beckoned. She cooed and whispered and asked, never did she demand. She never had to.

 So when her eyes fluttered shut, as sunlight still bubbled atop her pale flesh... when darkness began to simmer within the depths of the bones, ever so slowly crawling through her veins until black lines stroked over her skin like the stroke of a brush, the nichyevo shivered.

 It could feel such a similar bout of power, Merzost was calling to it, pleading for it to change its mind. It crept forth, one step, then another, towering higher and higher until Aleksa's outstretched hand merged with the darkness itself.

 They stayed there for just a moment. Merzost came with a price, and it appeared the price for Aleksa to pay was the utmost fatigue... but what did that matter if she had turned a beast, a soldier, into her very own.

 Aleksa's knees almost buckled as an overwhelming sense of nausea erupted in her belly, but the monster by her side was what kept her upright. No longer was it a beast, but something akin to a friend.

 Aleksa met dear Alina's eyes, "Protect her." She said, and the nichyevo hurled forth.

 Its claws tore through its former brethren with astounding speed. One by one the nichevo'ya were torn apart by one of their own, but bursts of sunlight and bullets that never ceased their fire.

 Eventually, they all found themselves within the main hall; the lock was moved into place the moment the door was slammed shut, but even then the nichevo'ya continued to assault the entrance. Shadows seeped through as their claws grappled and scraped against their only means of protection.

 Aleksa had spun when Mal had called out, and there was stood the radiant Zoya Nazyalenski trying with all her might to keep a nichevo'ya away with her Squaller winds... before Alina could even think to raise her hands, the beast under Aleksa's command threw itself forth like a famished wolf. It tore through its former brethren, leaving nothing more than a flittering shadow to drift away.

 Zoya blinked, eyes sliding to Aleksa as her breath came out in harsh and heavy puffs, "What did you do?"

 "I'm fighting fire with fire." Aleksa managed to stumble forth even as the veins smothering her neck crawled higher, marring her cheeks with obsidian lines, "Are there any others?"

 Zoya could scarcely bring herself to tear her gaze from the veins. Aleksa was smothered in them as they writhed beneath her skin like parasites. Zoya shook her head, eyes glazed over, "We were at dinner," She said, "We heard the bells. We didn't have time to seal the doors. They were just ... everywhere."

 Aleksa said nothing as she peered at all that remained of the second army; Sergei, David, Nadia, Adrik... there were three more Inferni and two more Corporalki — a Healer and a Heartrender. That was it. Just a handful of them.

 "Tolya and Tamar?" Alina had asked; they were two of her most trusted, two Heartrenders that had been with Nikolai — Sturmhond — as he sailed the sea all in an attempt to avoid his family.

 There was the chance that they were dead, which Aleksa couldn't truly bring herself to believe... those twins were a force to be reckoned with. They could have been with the Darkling all along, but their utter devotion to Alina... it just didn't seem like that could have ever been the case.

 Mal had suggested they find Nikolai... but both Aleksa and Alina knew that if Nikolai hadn't scattered with his family, then they were all most likely dead already. The thought rattled Aleksa; the thought that Nikolai could have been dead all this time. No. He was like her; far too stubborn to die.

 Aleksa stumbled once more as the veins crawled higher and higher, slowly reaching her eyes. She was glad there were no mirrors in the room, no mirrors to show her just how much she resembled her broth— the Black Heretic. The nichevo'ya she coddled drew closer, creeping upon flittering legs. It remaind by her side as though it was used to being a loyal soldier.

 Aleksa's hand drifted over it, watching as her fingers dipped through the darkness, "We can't stay here..." It was obvious but as she trailed off, listening to the vile sound of clattering and screaming, "His forces are all here. He would have known about Nikolai's birthday, he would have known to bring every ounce of power here."

 "So we can make a run for the upper town..." Alina nodded. Her golden kefta was torn, edges marred with mud, "...and try to fight our way out from there."

 Sergei, a Grisha who had dissolved into a puddle of tears after holding the limp body of his lover close, shook his head, "We'll never make it," He breathed, "There's too many of them."

 The nichevo'ya at Aleksa's side screeched, its head twisting towards the door. They'd soon have a hoard closing in on them, so while Sergei was right, there were too many... They couldn't just wait.

 Then there was that familiar crack of thunder that always rattled the ground beneath them. The sound that came alongside the Darkling summoning his army. How had everything come to this? Just one year prior Aleksa had been tucked away in Ketterdam, dreaming of the day she'd return to her big brother and show him just how much she'd flourished with her freedom.

 She would have shown him the growth of her powers, and they would have torn the Fold apart.

But he just couldn't stick to the crafted image she'd conjured. He couldn't pretend to be the big brother she had always seen and cloaked the bad memories with. He could never live up to the fantasy she pretended she lived within.

 He just had to have more power.

 "He's coming," moaned one of the Inferni. "Oh, Saints, he's coming."

 "He'll kill us all," whispered Sergei.

 Zoya flicked her frizzed hair from her eyes, even beneath the blood on her cheek and the dirt on her chin, she was still a vision, "If we're lucky."

 Perhaps it might not have been the most helpful thing to raise the spirits of those around them, but Zoya was right. Aleksander had never been kind to traitors, he pulled them apart, drowned them in twilight and watched as they descended into madness. Death would be kind.

 Zoya did her best to wipe the splatter of wine-red blood from her cheek, but only managed to smear it further across the expanse of her flawless skin. Aleksa reached her side, sleeves pulled over her fingers as she stretched upwards. All that was left behind was a little pink smudge.

 She managed a smile, and then turned to the rest of their pitiful crew, "I say we try to get to the upper town. I'd rather take my chances with the monsters outside than sit here waiting for the Darkling."

 David, to the surprise of them all, nodded, "At least with the nichevo'ya it will be relatively quick, I say we go down fighting." everyone turned to stare at him, bewildered that the meek little Durast was ready to charge headfirst into a battlefield. He seemed a little surprised himself. Then he shrugged. He met Alina's eyes and said, "We do the best we can."

 Aleksa followed his sights to their resident sunshine. She could see the desperation within Alina's gaze, the plea for Aleksa to be by her side as they attempted the impossible... 

 Aleksa peered at the nichevo'ya still curled by her toes... and then, she nodded, resolute.

 It was her job to command the second army while Alina did her best to take as many notes as she could, but Aleksa could see just how tired Alina was. She had torn the skies apart with sunlight, beckoning it forth even when the darkness threatened to swallow her...

 Aleksa might have been swaying on her feet, recovering from her first use of Merzost, but that wasn't enough to still her, "David?" she called, "Do you have any grenatki?"

 David pulled two small iron cylinders from the pocket of his kefta; David had been rather excited to show off that little invention. The cylinders housed a mixture of powders that sparked and consumed the air in flames when hit hard enough. How David was still alive, was truly a great mystery.

 "Use one, keep the second in reserve. We'll open the doors, you'll toss the grenatki. Zoya you'll use the wind to carry it higher, we're not dying to an explosion today."

 Zoya nodded, "That would be embarrassing."

 "I'm glad you understand. When the nichevo'ya scatter, we'll run for the palace gates." Aleksa stilled, eyes upon the nichyevo at her side, "Don't stop. Don't look back," She lifted her eyes, "Do you understand?"

 "Don't wait for us," Alina muttered. She curled her hands, watching how her scar rippled like a string of pearls beneath a trickle of clear water... she'd be lucky to escape without another dozen littering her skin, "We'll give you as much cover as we can."

 And thus, that was their plan.

 When the explosion ignited the air and sent the nichevo'ya scrambling for the cover of darkness, they all ran. Aleksa pushed and pushed, sandwiched between Mal and Alina while her nichyevo tailed them, batting away at any shadow that dare approach.

 But the explosion had only granted them a few seconds of solace. By the time the explosion had faded, the nichevo'ya were whirling right back towards them. Aleksa felt the shadows in her veins flicker and pulse, writhing like unruly little beasts... her nichyevo ploughed forth. It hurled itself over their heads and soon its beating wings carried it high while those horrific claws struck anything and everything.

 Alina rose her arms, summoning the sunlight. She sent forth blinding scythes that sliced through the nichevo'ya like a hot knife through butter. Aleksa called out, palms tilted towards the violet skies... and the shadows soon came to answer.

 From the ground, like thorny roses sprouting out of spite, spikes of obsidian burst through the soil. They struck the monsters, stilling them for moments. Again and again did Aleksa and Alina summon their strength. The nichyevo tore through monster after monster... but it just wasn't enough.

 The nichevo'ya just kept on coming.

 What kind of cost would come of this? What would be stolen from Aleksander all so that he could craft his monsters? They surged forth, slicing a hole through the monster Aleksa had tamed, their wings beating ever so furiously that they summoned bursts of wind as though they were Squallers. Their bodies shifted, talons were bared and their mouths began to part, ready to devour what little resistance was left.

 Then, when Aleksa watched as her nichyevo toppled to the ground as nothing more than a slumped and defeated shadow, the air erupted with the rattle of gunfire. There were soldiers pouring out of the woods to their left, shooting as they surged forth. The war cry that issued from their lips spurred Aleksa's skin to erupt with goosebumps, the hair on the back of her neck rose.

 Sankta Alina. They cried. Sankta Alina.

 Soldiers threw themselves at the monsters. They drew swords and sabres as they slashed and sliced at the beats with such terrifying ferocity. Some were dressed as farmers, dirtied clothes tossed onto their bodies while others donned their battered and torn first army uniforms.

 Each and every one of them bore identical tattoos; Alina's sunburst. The symbol of the Sun Summoner... The symbol of a Saint.

 There were just two surging bodies that were unmarked; Tolya and Tamar. They led the charge, mouths parted as cries and yells split through their lips. Their eyes were wild, almost craving the fight as they flashed their blades and roared Alina Starkov's name.

Overhead there was a small shadow, one squawking as though yelling his thoughts to the world; Cas was ready to do his part and amplify Aleksa's power once more. Aleksa breathed a hollow sound, fingers twitching as they rose before her... and once more, her own shadows sparkled back to life.

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DATE: 29/07/2023

:･ﾟ★ depending on if y'all actually interact with this chapter, i might post a second one later <3

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