𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 — boom, boom, crack

━━━━━━━

 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐊𝐒𝐀'𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 days within the Barrel, Kaz had already assigned her with a job; learn from the Wraith. It had been easy for him to see just how spry she was, from leaping over the rooftops to the way she had dodged the Grisha attacking them.

 Thus, Inej had taught everything she could have; how to clamber up the side of a wall — she had disapproved of Aleksa's clunky boots, but when Aleksa had managed just fine, if not a little slowly, Inej had brushed it off. The Wraith had taught Aleksa how to wield her knife just a little better, how to slip into the shadows without having to move them at all.

 Inej had forced the poor Shadow to walk the edge of a crooked roof as though it were a tightrope. Aleksa had toppled the first time, swiftly following Inej's cries to protect her head and tuck herself into a roll; the movement had been sloppy, but Aleksa had survived with little more than a blue bruise on her tailbone, and a scrape or two on her forearms.

 So when the explosion on Fifth Harbour knocked them back, Aleksa did just as she had been taught. She minimised the impact and tucked herself inwards. The results were still harsh and true, and a bruise or two was sure to sprout, but with blisters from the explosions heat lacing her skin, Aleksa could scarcely feel her fall.

 Within seconds, Aleksa and Inej were side by side, pressed up against the flank of an old sea-bitten crate while their ears were ringing. They could smell the aftermath; the scent of soot and gunpowder... of blood.

 Aleksa needed a moment, a moment they didn't quite have. The heat licking her flesh was more than painful, it was horrific... but she'd suffered worse before, had she not? She was the Shadow, the only person to truly survive the Cut. She had survived the Black Heretic.

 "Go," Aleksa hissed as the breeze brushed by, offering just a little respite against the heat she pulled through. But the Wraith lingered, brown eyes widened as she surveyed the damage already done. That divot appeared between her brows, lips parting to argue, "Inej, I'll be fine. Go, please."

 Inej steeled herself, Aleksa was her friend, her sister... but in moments like this Inej had to remind herself that Aleksa was more than that. In moments when their lives were on the line, she was Kaz's second. They listened to her if there was no rasp from Kaz to be heard.

 Inej trusted her, and so she nodded, "See you on the other side."

 A squeeze to the hand was all Inej could offer before she did what she did best, and disappeared in a blink.

 Aleksa swallowed, a hearty breath tumbling through trembling lips. She shed her coat, one she'd pinched from Kaz's office... she'd have to get him a new one. Aleksa drew higher, just enough to peer over the crate. There was a cloud of smoke swallowing the harbour, billowing flames still dancing atop the schooner... Aleksa plucked an arrow from her quiver, fingers stretching and stretching until they latched around the bow that had toppled from her shoulder amidst the chaos.

 An arrow was notched, a silver tip glinting. Aleksa waited... and waited... and then, somebody broke through the smoke. Their footsteps were the first thing she noticed; the slap against concrete, their wheezing breaths. It took mere seconds for the arrow to find its target; Aleksa withdrew the fingers keeping the arrow in place, and with a whiz, it was sent hurtling over the crate.

 Aleksa ducked, and all she needed to know that her arrow had found its home within a heart was the groan of a man,  and the thud of his body that came after. Aleksa peered over the crate... the obsidian arrow was perfectly centred and blood was already staining the man's off-white shirt.

 Aleksa huffed, she should have planned for this. They should have known that word would have gotten out about a grand heist willing to pay a lifetime's worth of kruge. It was as Kaz always said, everything in Ketterdam leaked, including the Slat and the Crow Club.

 Nobody could truly be trusted in Ketterdam.

 There was an onslaught of shots bursting through the air, only adding to that sharp scent of gunpowder; the Crows were outnumbered, and there were men weaselling their way to close in from both their left and right flanks.

 Peering through the haze, there was yet another boat... but now that Aleksa looked closer... no. She was going to kiss Rajek when they returned. Quite some time prior to their meeting, Rajek had managed to accidentally bid on three boats all from the same maker. The poor fool was only a few days into his stay in Ketterdam and had almost all of his kruge taken thanks to the damned boats. Thankfully he'd managed to make a living by renting them, by using one as a trapping boat.

 Rajek had given them two; one as a decoy and another in which the crows would truly sail.

 She should have known; Kaz never took such stupid chances.

 There was a figure atop the new Ferolind, one whirling their guns and shooting bullets until shells poured like rain. It had to be Jesper, nobody else flourished their weapons in such a peacock-like manner.

 All they had to do was buy time, and get to the boat... but that was far easier said than done.

 Aleksa glanced behind her, sure that nobody was sneaking through the shadows... and once the coast was clear, she mapped out her path. A majority of the dock was clear of any hiding places; sure there were cargo crates, but once atop them, there was no shelter to coddle her.

 Still, what other option did she have? Aleksa knew a shot to her gut a knife to her flesh wouldn't kill her, not after the deal she'd made... so she sucked in a breath, preparing herself for the inevitable pain to come. Inej couldn't survive a hit to the heart, Nina wouldn't be able to stitch herself back together if her lungs failed her, hell even the brute Matthias wouldn't be able to live a knife to the throat... and Kaz... Kaz's head was a devious thing, but it wasn't solid enough to protect him from a bullet.

 Aleksa hauled herself up the side of a cargo crate, her blistered fingers slipped and her nails scraped the metal in such a vile manner that made her eyes seal shut. But the moment she was high atop the crate, Aleksa dropped to her belly. The crate was stone-cold and the sensation bled through her shirt, offering solace to blistering skin.

 Aleksa moved into a crouch, staying as low as she could possibly manage even with her bow in hand. Another arrow was docked and soon found its way through the smoke, plunging into the arm of a man shooting at dear Nina. He toppled, and Aleksa hopped down to finish the job.

 She was enclosed between two crates, not exactly optimal if someone approached from behind. Still, Aleksa flicked the knife from her sleeve, the one still coated in poor Cobbet's blood... and she slashed the throat of the man clutching his arm.

 His pistol was beside him, and while Aleksa had never quite been fond of shooting a gun — the recoil was terrible — she scooped it up nonetheless, tucking the barrel into her trousers.

 Aleksa wiggled her fingers, ignoring the grating sound of firing bullets, and the yells and cries of injured men; she just hoped such cries weren't streaming from her men. The shadows enclosed, coiling and twisting and rushing forth... the space between the crates was shrouded entirely as though it was a long and dark alley within the depths of Ketterdam, nobody would dare sneak through such a place.

 Ahead, Aleksa could spy Nina and Matthias with their backs planted against one another; Nina raised her hands and stilled the hearts of anyone who came close. Matthias, surprisingly, kept his gun trained on their enemies. He might have scowled once or twice at Nina's display, but he kept true and left her unharmed.

 Aleksa had yet to spy Kaz since she'd called out his name. She had yet to see even a glimpse of the Wraith after they'd parted ways... and Wylan? Aleksa hoped the poor sod was alright, and she was rather glad that she'd warned him of the trauma yet to come.

 But it was then that the shadows whispered into her ears. They jittered and writhed like a bunch of unruly bugs, like somebody had poked a wasp's nest. Somebody had been stupid enough to slink into the darkness...

 Aleksa turned and a gun fired immediately. Aleksa slumped against the cargo crate. The sensation was overwhelming. She could feel blood trickling from the wound, slipping down her stomach. Her shirt clung to her, the vibrant liquid seeping through the white material... Aleksa blinked, teeth clattering together in a painful manner.

 She withdrew her own pistol, luching when another bullet snuck its way into her gut. Two. She was like a damned pin-cushion already.

 Aleksa could be sure of her arrows, she could trust they'd find their target with accuracy... bullets? Aleksa couldn't trust that her rattling fingers would keep the pistol steady, so she fired and fired and fired.

 Four bullets, three of which had landed true.

 Aleksa peered down, hardly caring about the man slumped just a pace ahead. Two bullets, one still stuck within her gut. The first had landed just below her ribs while the other had skimmed her left side. All she could see was a trail of red. All she could feel was sticky liquid seeping down the plane of her stomach, soaking her shirt, dribbling to her trousers.

 Aleksa toppled back, a bloodied hand planted against the cargo crate to keep her upright.

 "Well, look at you." A voice droned, a voice Aleksa knew all too well. Oomen.

 Oomen was one of Geels' top enforcers, another member of the Black Tips. He was known to be a ruthless man who enjoyed the violence his gang got involved with. His frame was imposing, especially now as Aleksa folded further and further, drawing closer and closer to the ground.

 He wasn't necessarily wide and broad like you'd expect, no, he had the build of a lanky old scarecrow... but anyone that knew his name, knew of the deceptive strength he possessed. It was said that he'd once crushed a man's skull with his bare hands, wiped his palms on his front, and carried on drinking for the night.

 Aleksa should have known the Black Tips would come; with how Inej and Jesper had described their parley, with the way Kaz had threatened Geels... it was obvious they'd snatch up the chance to get a little hint of revenge.

 Oomen grinned like a child, "Not lookin' so good, Shadow."

 "Neither are you."

 "I haven't got a hit on me."

 "No, but I was talking about your face."

 Wrong move. Oomen lunged, hands curling around the front of Aleksa's shirt with such ferocity, she began to choke. Blood spurted from her tongue, spraying over Oomen's cheek yet all the man did was sneer down at her, he looked over his crooked nose and soon his frown was overtaken with a twisted grin.

 A second passed as black ebbed through Aleksa's vision... All she could do was hike up a leg, connecting her knee with his groin. Oomen stumbled back, hands immediately coddling the assaulted area.

 Aleksa had managed to pry a knife from her pocket, not the obsidian one... no, she wouldn't chance Oomen getting his grubby little mits on it. But all Aleksa could see was a blur. All she could feel was gushing blood and sparking jolts of pain from her gut.

 Oomen knew he had the upper hand, and oh how he milked it. He merely swiped the knife from her, "Brekkers Shadow... I wonder what makes you so special? Did you seduce the devil, too?"

 "Is that what this is?" Aleksa wheezed, blood soaking her lips. Oomen sounded almost... jealous. Not entirely surprising, for he never had gotten over the time she'd led him to a bar, plied him with alcohol that patrons had gotten for her, and pried his secrets from his lips like a siren singing her song, "Jealousy, Oomen?"

 He grunted, and Aleksa managed a bloodied smile, "You're pathetic."

 The knife in his hand was forced through layers of flesh and the weak little hold Aleksa had managed to get on the shadows... slipped. That was the trouble, sometimes... the darkness trusted her so very much, that it would wait for her words, for her commands.

 Please. She begged silently. Please.

 "Want to know something, Aleksa?" Oomen hissed, his warm breath flitting past Aleksa's ringing ear, "I got the Wraith too."

 No longer were the shadows idle. A tendril coiled around Oomen's arm and he was forced to lessen his grip on the knife. Another twisted around his ankle, tugging and tugging until he collided with the cargo crate himself. The noise was grating; the crack of his bones, the shrill cry of bending metal... but it had been enough to draw attention.

 The shadows continued onwards, bashing Oomen against the crate with everything they could muster, but as Aleksa slipped, hands colliding with the ground, they lost their fight. They'd sparked for Inej, for Aleksa... but without Aleksa, they couldn't fight, they just couldn't persevere.

 The darkness comforted her, it always had and always would. Even despite knowing that every blotch in her vision only meant that her wounds were winning, Aleksa kept her breathing as steady as she could... she just needed to wake a little more, she just needed to keep her eyes open long enough to seal her own wounds.

 Aleksander had survived Inej's knife to his heart... Aleksa had survived the cut... She could win against two bullets and a knife twisted into her gut. She choked, blood dribbling down her chin in a pathetic little trail.

 Her fingers moved, tapping a little rhythm against the ground. Aleksa could feel dirt and pebbles sticking to the blood on her digits, it was uncomfortable, the stickiness... but Aleksa brushed it aside. The spark erupted as she heard footsteps thundering by; she had to hurry.

 Aleksa's fingertips were the first to grow cold as Merzost began to bubble. They grew black, as though she'd dipped her fingers into soot... then her veins writhed beneath the surface as her shadows flooded through, urging her pulse to continue its song. They rushed upwards, towards her neck, trailing down her chest and towards the wounds...

 Aleksa had let her eyes slip to a close as blood continued to fall. She couldn't feel her toes. They were stone-cold... But the shadows continued forth, dutifully trailing towards the injuries covering her gut. They passed by the pearly scars the Volcra had gifted her, the slash that Zoya had accidentally inflicted during a particularly forceful sparring session... then, as they nuzzled one of the bullet wounds. 

 Someone turned into the small gap between the crates.

 They must have heard the noise.

 Aleksa shouldn't have opened her eyes, she should have kept her focus on the power flooding her veins... but when a gloved hand curled around her cold wrist, she simply couldn't help it. That feeling of warmth spreading through leather was familiar only to her, who else had the pleasure of taking dear Kaz Brekker's hand?

 He was worried. He was angry. Aleksa could see it flashing behind those pretty eyes of his. Somehow, she managed a smile, her voice wavering, flicking out like a dying flame, "You came for me."

 "Always." His voice was sure, but his mouth twitched as he evaluated the blood on her front and the knife still embedded within her flesh.

 "Take it out," Aleksa said, her head managing to bob; the only way she was moving was if Kaz himself took her into his arms... and she'd be damned if she was to keep a blade within her gut for the journey.

 "I can't," It looked like it pained him to say that, like he truly wished he could do as she asked, as if he would do anything to relieve her of her pain, "You'll bleed out."

 "Already am."

 "Pathetic way to die, for a Shadow."

 "Better get a move on then, pretty boy"

 Kaz took her into his arms then, and if it had been any other time, if Aleksa had the strength to grin and laugh, she'd have made a comment. She'd have teased him, poked him until he blushed... because only she was capable of that.

 But all Aleksa could do was clamp her eyes shut as she curled her own fingers around the knife in her belly. She kept it still, knowing that the moment Kaz began to run, it would hurt like hell. Aleksa wasn't quite sure when she'd toppled against his chest, but the only thing keeping her eyes open was the thudding of his heart.

 It stuttered beneath those roughspun clothes, the ones that looked ever so silly on his frame. It pulsed and pulsed like the sweetest symphony... and Aleksa couldn't help but wonder if it was the blood on her front that made it thud so quickly, the sensation of cold flesh, or just... her.

 "Don't go quiet on me now," Kaz rasped, his teeth clattering together as he pushed onwards, running even despite his bad leg threatening to buckle entirely, "You've always got something to say. Go on, Aleksa, say something."

 Aleksa choked, blood spluttering over Kaz's chest, "Are you asking me to flirt with you?"

 "Yes."

 "Okay..." Aleksa whispered, eyes slowly closing. She could feel Merzost still flooding her body, but she was simply too tired to keep it going. It fed on her, even while sealing the bullet wound it feasted on. Her consciousness in return for a healed wound. A fair deal. A frightening one, "You're very warm, is that because of me?"

 Kaz almost laughed despite himself, "Who else?"

 "I knew it. You do have a crush on me, don't you Dirtyhands?"

 "Even now, so full of yourself..." Kaz tutted.

 "Kaz?" He hummed in turn, sparing a swift glance down at her. In the time he'd been running upon his uneven gait, those dark veins had sprouted again, They poked over the frilled collar of her buttoned shirt, crawling past her cheeks and towards her eyes... they were smothering her bloodied hands, "I'm going to pass out."

 "No, you're going to keep talking."

 "It's alright... I promise. My wounds..." Aleksa slumped, and now she hadn't the energy to keep her head upright. It lolled to the side, bouncing against Kaz's chest with every rushed step he took, "... Healing."

 One last look, Aleksa begged, just one more. So she opened her dimming cerulean eyes, ignoring the flash of white-hot pain searing through her stomach, the way the edges of her vision was already swamped with obsidian. She couldn't know if she'd truly wake after her wounds sealed themselves... Merzost was a tricky thing... but she trusted her shadows, and she trusted herself.

 From her position, Aleksa had the most perfect view of Kaz Brekker; the pale slope of his neck, the little pearl-string scar on his chin, the curl of his nose. She could see the little shadows beneath his cheekbones; they had always been one of her favourite parts of him, it was like a part of her was always clinging to his pretty face.

 Amidst the pain, the blood slipping from her gullet, Aleksa tilted her head. Her forehead bumped Kaz's chest as she spoke for the last time, "You're unreasonably pretty, Kaz Brekker."

━━━━━━━

DATE:  27/08/2023

:･ﾟ★ uhu, yeah. that - oops.

i'm alive, besties (barely)

please remember to leave feedback & comments. i require a certain number of comments before i publish the next update. please give me a follow to keep updated and receive sneak peeks! do not leave 'update' comments, you will be muted.