Alvida Giese's Story

xxxxAlvida had been to street parties in Kerch, where pubs opened up onto the street, musicians played at every corner, and drunken residents danced wildly on the pavement. Ketterdam’s revelries were always wild and uninhibited, a concentrated reflection of the city itself. The Festival of Litha was not nearly as wild, yet it was just as decadent in its own way. Merchants displayed their wares with pride. Welcoming grins decorating their faces even as their cunning minds attempted to sell products for exorbitant prices. Inferni-enhanced fire illuminated the palace and its paths, and every few paces a fabrikator-made artwork dazzled the crowd with its workmanship. Even more eye catching was the clothing of the foreign delegates, the attire wholly new and exotic to much of the Ravkan crowd gathered.

xxxxVida, despite having travelled far more than your average Ravkan, was equally as impressed by the delegates’ rich clothing. Her eyes followed the Shu officials, a smile pulling at her lips as the girl pictured a close friend – a certain privateer – being carried around on their exquisite chairs like a prince. The girl’s gaze followed the procession of foreign delegates as they made for the stage where the Ravkan King and Queen sat in regal splendour. Even from below the queen’s beauty was evident, her dark hair flowing in glossy tendrils down her back. The smuggler had also heard tell of the royal Grisha’s aptitude with her squaller abilities, as if beauty and money wasn’t enough.

xxxxVida’s eyes flicked behind the royal duo, falling next on a stiff officer whose eyes seemed to glare holes through space and time. She wore a bejewelled kefta, the colours indicating that she was Grisha. Vida followed the woman’s gaze to where another soldier dozed off at his post, and let out a jubilant laugh as the sleeping man jerked awake, his skin taking on a ghastly hue as he realised he’d been discovered by his superior.

xxxxHer curiosity piqued, Vida turned to a nearby merchant whose wares appeared to include a plethora of perfumes and delicate soaps. “Hey, who’s the scary girl standing behind the Ravkan royals?” The merchant glanced to where Vida was pointing and huffed a nervous laugh.

xxxx“Second commander of the army. Volkov her name is.” The merchant replied, before crossing his heart and reaching up to touch some of the Saint’s bones dangling above his stall, “They call her the executioner.”

xxxx “The executioner?” Vida repeated, the playful smile threatening to spill into a grin at the dramatic pseudonym. Perhaps the stall owner was merely pulling her leg, attempting to have a laugh at the foreign girl’s expense. Yet, there was a serious gleam to the man’s eyes as he leaned in closer, his voice barely more than a whisper as he added,

xxxx“They say she can hear you from across a field, and can smell your fear.”

xxxxHiding a startled laugh behind a cough, Vida managed to conceal her amusement, barely. “Perhaps you had better put some perfume on then, just in case…” Vida suggested, eyebrows raised and her gaze darting from the man up to the second commander. The merchant blinked at her, considering, before his hands quickly darted out to a stand selling the very luxury needed to mask his fear.

xxxxWith a wry smile on her face Vida left the man, taking another glance up at the stage only to discover ‘the executioner’ had vacated it. With a shrug Vida turned her attention elsewhere, meandering through the crowds and soaking up the atmosphere. The girl had attempted to coerce her brother into attending with her, yet the stubborn man had chosen instead to indulge in a simple book and drink at the inn they were housing in. A wasted opportunity to see what Os Alta had to offer while their visit lasted, she thought.

xxxxOf course, it was not an act from Os Alta that now caught her attention, but a group that hailed from her mother’s country of origin; Novyi Zem. Navigating her way through the crowds, Vida positioned herself near the stage, where her view of the Zemeni performers was almost completely unimpeded. They moved like smoke, each movement precise and gentle, flowing from one form to the next with an ease that defied logic. Their masks gave the group an otherworldly appearance, the choreography hypnotising.

xxxxSo absorbed was Vida that she almost missed the first sign of danger. It was a sudden lick of flame that drew the smuggler from her reverie, the crackling of air with heat. Instantly Vida was on guard, her body moving instinctively to duck away from the onslaught of fire. Two of her small knives, hidden beneath the layers of her clothing, fell into waiting palms. She scanned the festival quickly, taking in the sudden mayhem as well as the attackers bearing down on the festival goers.

xxxxFlames curled towards the audience, fingers of blistering heat seeking to engulf those not quick enough to run. Above the flames, on twirling winds, hovered two squallers, their kefta flying around them as they pulled more gales forwards. Pandemonium was everywhere, invoked by the attacking onikh, for onikh they had to be. No normal Grisha had this much power. Screams and panicked shouting had replaced the festive music, stalls were knocked to the ground in the mob’s haste to escape, scattering their multitudes of saints’ bones across the courtyard.

xxxxThe stage, which had moments before held royals and foreign delegates basking in their superiority, was now a mass of moving soldiers and running officials. A body lay unmoving on the platform, while chairs had been knocked over and thrown in their occupants' haste to escape the danger. Vida spied the king being protected behind several soldiers and a beautiful man, whom she assumed to be the army’s commander. He barked out orders to the soldiers on the stage, who quickly helped the king to his feet and ran him to safety. The queen was nowhere in sight, and the girl had to assume that she had already been whisked away from harm.

xxxxEven as Vida stood watching, the scene changed. Resistance to the onikh attackers appeared, other Grisha stepping forward in an attempt to rebuff the terrorists’ probes. She could see it wasn’t enough though, not against onihk. Had Vida been on the edges of the festival when the fighting began, she might have taken the chance to slip away to safety. Yet, placed as she was in the very centre of the festival, she found herself blocked at several exits by the attackers. Gripping her knives tightly in each hand, the girl darted to the left, avoiding another pillar of flame. A gust of wind threatened to sweep her back across the courtyard, but a quick twist of her arms and turn of her body saw Vida deflect the gale. Almost.

xxxxThe smuggler wasn’t nearly as strong as the onihk squallers above, and she could feel their control of the wind overwhelming her feeble attempt. Like a lash the wind whipped back, hitting her as hard as if the air had turned to steel. The girl went spinning, barely managing to call her power up fast enough to cushion her landing. Even so, Vida’s knees and hands hit the ground hard, with one of her knives skittering out of her hold. Clearing her head with a quick shake, the smuggler regained her feet, clutching the remaining knife tighter in her palm. Above Vida the squallers still floated, terrorising any within their reach. The injerni sent flames exploding forth, attempting to devour everyone else.

xxxx “Djel’s bloody balls.” Vida swore, invoking the Fjerdan god in what would most assuredly be considered blasphemy had she uttered the words across the border. Biting her lip, the girl glared up at one of the squallers, her gaze equally resentful and calculating. With the onihk’s attention elsewhere, Vida took her chance, winding her arm back and then sending her knife flying towards the floating horror. With the flick of her hand she sent a burst of air after the knife, setting it accelerating through the turbulent currents. If the knife had flown true, it might have buried itself in between the shoulder blades of her target, yet a defensive breeze brushed it to the side, so that the blade instead sunk into the onihk’s arm.

xxxxWith another silent curse, the smuggler ducked around a stall to avoid the retaliatory tornado of wind. It caught at the merchant’s wares, sending them smashing towards the ground around her. As Vida raised her hands above her head, protecting her skull from any impact, her gaze slid through a gap in the stall. The crowd was rapidly dispersing, with everyone sane enough running away from the descending madness of the festival. Only a fool would run towards the fatal attacks. And yet, Vida frowned as she caught sight of a man doing just that. Her frowned deepened slightly as recognition struck, before a gasp broke from full lips. Suddenly she was scrambling to her feet, half hunched over behind the stall. The girl broke into a run as she left the protection of the merchant’s stall, crying out to her brother.

xxxx “Dima!”

xxxxHis head snapped towards his sister, the relief that crossed his face evident. His long strides quickly cut the distance between them, until Dima was able to pull Vida towards him, sheltering her from the gale that battered the pair. They ran behind the cover of another stall, ducking beneath the flapping awning.

xxxx “You’re alright?” Dima queried, gaze searching for any signs of injury on his little sister.

xxxx “A bit bruised, but otherwise fine.” She replied before bursting out, “Dima, they’re onihk!”

xxxxDima’s gaze moved past the wind-tousled locks of his sister to stare at the miniature tornadoes wreaking havoc where once citizens had celebrated. “I know. Look, Vida, Fang got a message to me, and this must be somehow related.” Dima began, steady blue eyes returning to the light brown of his sister's gaze. “He needs us to help smuggle some people out of the city. Important people.”

xxxx “Who?”

xxxx “The Queen for one.” Dmitri replied, to which his sister’s eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t wait for her to interrupt with questions, they didn’t have the time. “Second commander of the Army, the-…”

xxxx “I saw her! Up on stage.” Vida interrupted, remembering the stern glare of the woman standing behind the royals.

xxxx “Would you recognise her face if you saw her again?” Dima asked hastily, to which Vida gave a quick nod. He smiled, satisfied, and continued, “The commander of the third division, Aleksey Utkin, and the head jurda parem alkemi, Adrian Naumov.”

xxxx “How are we meant to find them?” Vida asked, a frown creasing her brow.

xxxx “Luck, I suppose. I assume Fang is here somewhere. If we can find him, he can surely help.”

xxxxVida nodded again, any thoughts of running from the fighting fading to be replaced with finding Fang and these mysterious people. Setting her shoulders the girl let a grin flicker across her face,

xxxx “I hope you brought your pistols, you’re going to need them.” Without another word Vida stepped back into the fighting, hands raised as she pull the winds towards her. With an exasperated sigh and a worried frown, Dima dived after her, freeing the daggers from his back and twirling them in his hands with expert ease.

xxxxThe idea that Alvida and Dmitri were ‘fighting’ the onihk was a loose one. As the chaos spread and the drugged Grisha continued their unyielding attacks, it became more about avoidance and survival than any attempt to permanently bring down the Grisha. The siblings stayed close together, guarding the other’s back even as they scanned the few who had remained in the area. Their vision was frequently obstructed by walls of scorching flame, or stirred up dirt, so that their search for any of their targets remained slow.

xxxx “There!” Vida cried against the howl of a miniature tornado, her hair whipping across her face as she squinted across the fighting, “Is that-…” The rest of her sentence was lost as the winds hit the pair hard, small stones and saints’ bones picked up by the gusts pelting them like bullets from a fire arm. Vida raised her hands, pushing back against the winds. She couldn’t overcome the squallers sailing above, but her own powers gave Dima and herself enough time to escape from the whirlwind of slicing rock and bone.

xxxxBy the time the siblings had made it to a slightly quieter area, Vida had lost sight of the privateer she had thought she had caught sight of. Yet, another appeared at their side, playful nicknames rolling off the tip of their friend’s tongue as she raced towards them.

xxxx “Frigg!” Dmitri called in turn, eyes scouring over his friend for any signs of immediate damage.

xxxx “You’re here!” Vida exclaimed, her own eyes doing a quick inspection of the Zemeni tracker before adding, “Your hair!”

xxxxIt was only then that the siblings registered Frigg’s earlier words. As much as they both might have wished to escape from the unwinnable battle, they had a job to do. “We have to find some people before we leave.” Dima said with a shake of his head, even as his eyes continued to survey their surroundings, making sure that their moment of distraction didn’t result in finding themselves burnt to a crisp.

xxxxFrigg’s coat was repeatedly buffeted by the howling gale, beating against her legs and nearly tripping her as she ran. Her name was carried on that very same wind, reaching her just before she slowed to a halt at their sides. Seeing the Giese siblings again was a beacon of light amidst the chaos; calming her, even after her brush with an onikh. She wouldn’t dwell on the fact that she could’ve just died. Not right now. "That’s a panic attack for another time." Of course it was easy when Vida graciously reminded her that some of her curls had been scorched from a fiery projectile. Throwing her a look of malcontent and an unspoken, ‘Now’s not a good time,, she effectively put a pin in the conversation. Once they were no longer under the threat of death, she’ll definitely have an animated rant about it. Dmitri, however, gave her something to be angry about now.

xxxxWith a fist clenched over her mouth, she barely suppressed an aggrieved cry. “Remember when I said that your work ethic was going to get you killed one day, Eyebrows?” Frigg asked, her hand falling to her side, raising her voice over all the surrounding devastation, “This is the kind of shit I was talking about! Who the hell is so important that they need to be smuggled now?”

xxxxDespite the devastation and very real chance of being burnt to a crisp at any given second, Vida felt a smile quirk her lips at Frigg’s response. Any amusement Dima felt, however, would be kept subdued until their lives weren’t on the line.

xxxx “The queen, for one.” He answered, his gaze momentarily stopping its constant scan for danger to land on the young woman before him, “And a few others.”

xxxxHer reaction was immediate, if only miniscule. The hand on her bow tightened its grip, her posture straightening despite the pain in her back. “You’ll have better luck looking for the others,” she replied, her voice void of any emotion, “The queen’s nowhere to be found. Even the king hasn’t the fucking faintest idea where she is.” Quickly surveying the courtyard around her, she can see others fighting the onikh, grisha and non-grisha alike. This could be their chance to gather who they need and run, but they’ve only as long as the others can survive. “Who else are you looking for?”

xxxxThere was a moment of hesitation between the siblings, and a shared glance that seemed to convey an entire conversation. Then, with a slight nod they reached an agreement, “The second commander-…” Dmitri began.

xxxx “Volkov.” Vida interjected, recalling the woman standing to attention behind the royals.

xxxx “Commander of the third division, and the head of the jurda parem research group.” Dima finished, before movement from the corner of his eye saw his hands clasping around the girls arms and pulling hard. All three jumped back a step, and not a second later a large block of stone struck the ground where they had just been gathered. Dima followed the path of the projectile and felt his eyes go wide at the sight of two individuals – Fjerdan perhaps – taking on one of the onihk. He silently wished them luck, even as he turned his attention back to the two women before him.

xxxx “You’ve been working in Os Alta for a while, would you recognise any of them?” Vida probed hopefully.

xxxxFrigg had seen many a private conversation between the siblings before, but only a few of them were ever about her. With the whole of their exchange being eye contact, it was always sort of nerve wracking to be the subject of discussion when she didn’t know if it would work out in her favor. Thankfully, with how close they’ve all become, she won out this time. She preened a bit at being able to work with them again, especially since, instead of them helping her – as is so often the case - she was helping them.

xxxxThough her visits to Os Alta were always brief, they were often enough that she could recognize most, if not all, of the patrons who lived and worked there; if not by name then by what they did. She’d been able to put names to faces gradually over time, but not all of them. Thankfully, she didn’t need them. “I can help you find them,” she said, barely concealing a smug grin, “I haven’t seen the second commander or the other one since I got here, but I wager they’ll be somewhere fighting. We can probably find the nerd in his lab, I know the way.”

xxxxFrigg’s familiarity with the faces of Os Alta was an advantage, and both Vida and Dima were quick to see that there was a way to capitalise on their piece of luck.

xxxx “We’ll have to split up.” Vida announces, her hand gripping Dmitri’s arm to keep his tongue still as she continues, “I’ll stick around the fighting-…” Vida paused at a look from Dmitri and added with a roll of her eyes, “…the edge of the fighting, and I’ll look for the commander, while you two head towards the labs to find the fabricator. We’ll meet back…?”

xxxx “Safehouse by the docks.” Dmitri answered, leaning in to murmur the address to his sister over the howling of the winds. “If Aleksey Utkin is fighting here, the second commander should be able to recognise him.” Dmitri added, though another eye roll from his sister indicated that she had already figured out as much too.

xxxx “Be safe you two.” Vida said, resisting the urge to hug Dima and Frigg barely.

xxxx “Vida, wait.” Dima pulls her closer, “If you find them and need to convince them, mention Sturmhond.”

xxxx “Sturmhond?” Vida’s confusion was clear, but with limited time she merely nodded and made a mental note to ask Dmitri about it later.

xxxxShe let her gaze flit across the courtyard as the siblings spoke, her ears clinging to their every words as she remained the lookout for any oncoming attacks. Dmitri had pulled them into a corner secluded enough to be easily missed by the onikh, their attention solely on the stranglers that insisted on putting up a fight. It was a sanctuary in the middle of a battlefield, but they wouldn’t remain hidden for long. As Vida made to leave, Frigg turned to her, a look of adoration in her eyes. This woman was one of her best friends, and though she hated to see her go where she couldn’t keep her safe, Frigg knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself. “Stay breezy,” she told her, playing off of the squaller’s nickname in her signature goodbye. It was never really a goodbye though, but rather a promise to see her again.

xxxxTurning towards the older sibling, she catches his gaze, nodding towards the direction of the castle. “Cover me, I’ll lead the way.”

xxxxDima watched his little sister go, pushing down the fear that she’ll get hurt by reminding himself that she was fully capable of holding her own in a fight. Against onihk? Well, that was another a story. Dmitri merely had to hope that Vida would stay away from the dangerous Grisha, find her targets quickly, and leave this death trap. His and Frigg’s imminent health was also of some concern, as, if judging by Frigg’s trajectory, the pair would have to skirt around the heated fighting.

xxxx “The alkemi, can you describe what he looks like?” Dima asked, hefting his blades as he follows closely behind the tracker. His eyes dart around them, watching for danger as they run. The army’s Grisha had arrived, working in coordinated teams to bring down the onihk. Their teamwork was fast, efficient, and deadly, and Dmitri shuddered at the thought of how quickly they would be able to dispose of someone without any Grisha at all.

xxxxWith lips poised to answer, Frigg’s description – "Blonde hair, a bit bug eyed, looks like he’s never spent a day outside in his life" – is put on hold, her attention drawn to a flash of light… but hers isn’t the only set of eyes it’s caught. An onikh squaller shrieks, rushing toward the very scientist that she’d been told to find with murderous intent. She watched the scene as it unfurled with rapt fascination, slightly in awe despite the young man’s flailing. She watched as he bound the squaller in a tapestry and put it on its back, only to see him rooting around in the onikh’s mouth. "Bloody hell, this fucker’s mental," He’s thrown off, watching the onikh struggle to get out of her binding. Whatever he says to the squaller must piss her off because it’s her scream that finally startles him to moving, and it’s to their immense fortune that he almost immediately spots them. Frigg feels Dmitri’s attention shifting at her side as the scientist makes a run for them, and she decides it’s best to let the smuggler know what they’re about to get themselves into. “He looks like that,”

xxxxAt Frigg’s words Dmitri’s attention left the warring soldiers and followed the line of his friend’s gaze to land on a skinny man in the purple kefta of an army Grisha hurtling straight towards him. Only that split second of warning kept Dmitri on his feet. Though, with his daggers clutched tightly in his hands, Dima had to hold himself back from reflexively pushing the knife tip through his attackers flesh. It was a good thing too that he didn’t skewer the Grisha, for, in a pathetic voice, the man introduced himself as ‘Adrian’ and declared that he didn’t want to die.

xxxx“You ain’t the only one,” Frigg retorts, responding to the second half of the young man’s introduction, her eyes cutting briefly to the bound squaller the scientist left behind.

xxxx “Adrian Naumov?” Dima asked, as he stepped out of the path of a smouldering flame. Dmiti’s gaze turned to Frigg, an expression of bewildered surprise clear on his face. Had their target really just found them?

xxxxFrigg’s meets Dmitri’s gaze with a look of equal disbelief. "Oh you don’t know the half of it," she tries to convey, but there’ll be plenty of time for that later. From the looks of the tapestry, they don’t have very long before that onikh gets loose, and then they’ll have a very unhappy squaller on their hands. “…the mad scientist himself,” she says before turning her gaze to Adrian, “We’d best get you outta here before your friend comes looking for you,”

xxxxDmitri couldn’t agree with Frigg more, and with a firm look at the Grisha he nodded away from the fighting, “Stay close to us, Adrian.”. Dima fought the urge to glance back over his shoulder in search of Vida. He had to trust that his little sister would come out of the fighting unscathed. Instead, Dmitri focused on the closest route of escape, his feet slapping against the ground as he urged the others on. It was only as the winds picked up, whipping the tips of his coat against his legs, that Dima risked a look back at the battlefield. Amid a battered and torn tapestry, the drugged squaller was rising, a hurricane propelling her higher while her eyes glared daggers at Adrian.

xxxx “Frigg?” Dmitri called over the winds, “You got anything in your quiver?”

xxxx“Nah, stick close to him. He’ll protect you.” she interjected, her body moving as Dmitri’s did as he took the lead. Frigg kept the smuggler’s pace at his side as they ran, her eyes trained straight ahead, even as the wind picked up behind her. She heard Dmitri’s voice above the gales, his words causing her to look back at the angry squaller currently staring at the mad scientist with murderous intent. "Well shit-…" “Uhhh… yeah. Lead him out, I’ll cover you”

xxxxFrigg plucked an arrow from her quiver as she fell back, slotting it into place as she drew it back. She took aim as she ran, loosing it only for it to get thrown by the squaller’s surrounding winds. Cursing to herself, she stopped, turning to face the onikh as she equipped another. She loosed it, aiming slightly off target, and watched as it was caught in a whirlwind. The arrow flew around the squaller, but it did not circle her. It curved around her side, freed the moment it vanished behind her, shooting off to the onikh’s left. Frigg smirked. "Got you, you flying twat."

xxxxShe loosed another arrow, further off target, watching its trajectory as it circled round. She did the same with three more, none of them aimed for the squaller herself. Each one rode the wind, different ones offering different results. Though the squaller drew nearer, Frigg’s actions kept her attention off the encroaching Grisha soldiers and their pursuit. "That’s it," she thought, "just a little more." She lets loose another arrow, watching as it punctured the wind, dragging across the squaller’s upper arm before it was carried off. Frigg cheers, her spirits high as she reaches into her quiver for another, only for her heart to sink. That was her last one. Thankfully, it was enough. However minor, the scratch was enough to pull the squaller’s attention away, leaving her open to the soldiers as they closed in on her, capturing her in a cyclone of their own.

xxxxFrigg didn’t waste a second running away, her feet carrying her to Dmitri’s side as the squaller’s cries became gasps for air. “Bad news, brows. I’m out of arrows,”

xxxxDmitri and Adrian had barely cleared the courtyard when Frigg returned. “How many did you have?” Dmitri asked, his eyes flicking from Frigg back to the squaller behind them who was being torn down by a group of army grisha.

xxxxFrigg quickly added them up in her head. "One for Ruffles. One in the big guy. So, excluding those, that’s one two three four…" “Six,”

xxxx “Six?” Dmitri exclaimed, “There’s at least a dozen onihk!”

xxxx“And I shot that one!” Frigg countered, “You’re welcome!”

xxxxWith a groan Dmitri decided to drop the topic, instead focusing his energy on making sure he, Frigg, and Adrian made it safely to their destination. He glanced at the alkemi with them, wondering how best to convince the man to come with them to the safehouse now that they were further away from the heart of the mayhem. In the end he decided with the obvious route, “Come with me, we’ll keep you alive.” and hoped that Adrian’s desire to live would, at least temporarily stop him from asking questions.

xxxxA tug on his hand kept the healer vertical when his feet attempted to slide out from under him as the group of four pelted around a sharp corner. With his heart in his throat and his lungs fit to burst, Taras was sure that the only thing keeping him running was the firm grasp of the squaller’s hand around his wrist. If his mind hadn't been firmly focused on staying upright and running, Taras might have had room to consider that being left behind and freed from his 'capture' by the intimidating second-in-command would have been preferable. But, whenever such a thought did find it's way into his head, the image of Katya Volkov quickly dealing with several trained soldiers surfaced, and Taras' fear kept his feet from stalling.

xxxxSo, it was with aching muscles that Taras continued to run from the chaos that had engulfed the once jubilant festival. As they passed through streets and alleys, the shouts and screams of those who had been caught up in the mayhem faded. The flickering fires of the onihk inferni were extinguished by teams of tidemakers, and the howling winds of the flying demons came to an end. A temporary peace might have started to filter through the palace and city, if not for the cries of pursuing soldiers attempting to catch up to the escaping group.

xxxx"Go left! I know somewhere safe we can go." the squaller called as the group came to an intersection, her grip tightening on Taras' wrist as she pulled him along. Part of Taras wondered who this Grisha was and why she had attached herself to the two army Grisha, but he couldn't work up the nerve to ask her for her name, let alone where she had come from and why. Thankfully for the shy healer, Katya Volkov wasn't quite as reserved.

xxxx With an agility Taras was no longer surprised by, the commander stopped and shot an arm at the squaller, catching the Kerch girl by her shoulder. Vida - and Taras by extension - came to a sudden halt. The fingers locked around Taras' wrist unclasped as the squaller's hand flew up in a futile attempt to pry Katya's hand from her body. With a muttered curse, the civilian turned her gaze to the intimidating commander, and though the two women were nearly the same height, the commander appeared to stare down at the other girl as she spoke.

xxxx "Wait," implored the Ravkan soldier. "Who are you to command me? How are we to know you don't work in service of our enemies? You could be leading us to our execution." The grip on Vida's shoulder tightened as the commander's pale eyes narrowed. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now."

xxxx "I'm trying to help you. If I wanted you dead, I would have left you at the palace." Came the squaller's tart reply, her gaze flicking from Katya's face to the iron fingers digging into her muscle and back, as if weighing up whether helping the Ravkan soldiers was worth it. She gave a small scrunch of her nose as she apparently came to a decision, before continuing, "There's a safe house we can go to, you'll be safe there from whomever you've pissed off."

xxxxA muscle twitched at the commander’s temple. She did not take well to baseless accusations, though in truth Katya had accumulated countless enemies in her two and a half decades of life. She didn’t quite make it her priority to maintain civil interactions. It might have made for a narrower pool of suspects if the squaller had asked whom she hadn’t pissed off, but Katya was not about to share that bit of information with the sharp-tongued girl.

xxxx“You can be rest assured,” Katya began cryptically. “That death does not come at any time except one convenient for me.” She swept an accessing gaze over the honey-eyed girl, her stance unimpressed.

xxxx It was apparent to Taras, watching without a word beside the two women, that Katya Volkov was not convinced. He wasn't sure how much time they had before soldiers caught up with them, and while Taras wasn't opposed to being rescued by palace fighters, he would definitely prefer to avoid being caught in more fighting. The squaller too seemed to be aware that they didn't have time to hesitate, and so with an exasperated sigh and a quick gaze over her shoulder, she leaned in closer to Volkov and Utkin. "Sturmhond sent me."

xxxxThe name meant nothing to Taras, but it seemed to have an effect on the soldiers. Katya’s eyes widened only briefly, but such an expression on the heartrender’s otherwise apathetic appearance seemed outrageous. It had been many years since she’d last heard that name. Aleks, slackjawed, exhaled a breath softly, mouth moving in some unheard sentiment. Perhaps just a whispered, Saints. Katya released her grip on Vida immediately.

xxxx”Then what in saint’s name are you waiting for?” Katya barked. “Take me to him immediately.”

xxxxThe squaller looked as if she was attempting to fight back an eye roll, and only just managing to do so. Then, with a nod and a wave of her hand indicating that the three Ravkans should follow her, the girl turned on her heel and dove down the left alley. The commander didn't hesitate to follow the squaller, though at the last moment her hand flew out to tightly grip Taras’ wrist, yanking the healer after her.

xxxxThe brief reprieve from running had been enough to ease Taras' heaving lungs, and the maze of back streets and alleys which they now made their weaving way through didn't seem as outright stressful as the straight run from the palace grounds. Even so, the pace was more than Taras was used to, and Katya Volkov's firm grip never slackened. He was also lost within a small number of turns, his sense of direction failing him as any landmarks vanished behind overhanging buildings and tall fences, and the darkness of night.

xxxxOnly moonlight lit the path they sped down now, and Taras turned his gaze to his feet. He wasn't sure what would happen if he stumbled and fell. Would the group go on without him? Or would the commander simply sling him over her shoulder and continue on her way? Taras wasn't entirely sure that Katya couldn't achieve such a feat. However, before anything of that nature could be proven, the squaller pulled up short in front of what might once have been a thriving inn.

xxxxThe entrance had been bordered up long ago, as had the windows. Cobwebs, dust, and graffiti now decorated the derelict entrance, while what might once have been bright paint had faded and peeled almost entirely off the building's facade. The squaller ushered the group forward, her hands searching across a plank-covered window as her eyes attempted to pierce the darkness. Finally, her fingers seemed to brush over whatever she was looking for, and she pulled. The boards covering the window swung out as if on a hinge, offering an opening for someone to duck through.

xxxxTaras would have been hesitant to enter a dark room without someone he had just met, but the healer didn't have much of an option as Katya's grip on his wrist pulled him forward. He ducked just in time to avoid banging his head on the wood, and had to wait a moment for his eyes to adjust to the deeper darkness. When they did, Taras found himself in a dusty room that might once have served as an inn bedroom. It was hard to make out in the dark, but he was sure the looming shape on the left was a dresser, and the bulging object to the right was perhaps a bed.

xxxx"Where are we?" Taras asked quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

"The Reverent Inn." Came the squaller's reply as she shut the window behind the group, "Come on, this way."

Vida led the three into another room. It was free of cobwebs, lacked the layer of dust one might expect from an abandoned place like this, and, more importantly, appeared to already be occupied by a trio of people. Taras didn't recognise any of them, yet it was very apparent that the squaller did, for a grin spread across her face as soon as she stepped into the lit room. With a spring in her step, the girl walked towards the tall Shu Han man.

"Fang! You're going to be so pleased with me. I give you Katya Volkov, Aleksey Utkin, and... uh, actually, i don't know who you are."

"T-taras Nikolaev." Taras supplied quietly, slightly surprised to be addressed. Then, in a barely audible voice, "But, I ah-... I don't think I'm meant to... to be here-..."

"Nice to meet you Taras, I'm Marina Pavus." The squaller - Marina, also known as Alvida to those who knew her outside of her professional job - replied, not having heard Taras' final statement. The girl's gaze returned to Fang as she took a few steps towards him, "Dima hasn't arrived yet?"

Taras didn't know who 'Dima' was, nor why he found himself in a run-down inn with a bunch of strangers, but he had the sinking feeling that whatever mess he had been dragged into, he wouldn't be getting out of it any time soon.

Red and black. Raging flames, choking smoke. Red and black. Life blood, hot and slick, obsidian sky. Red and black. Flickering silk, dappled in rhinestones, inky locks writhing in grisha-made gales.

Sin Nari had been born into a world of red and black, and the she'd always been told that they were the two colours that looked best on her. That said, these reds and blacks did little to appeal to her vanity. Instead, the only incited fear and discomfort. The hues were sadistic instead of flattering, and they clawed at her from all sides, burning her lungs and tearing at her face.

The hem of the dress she wore was now ragged and black, burned away at by the hot tongues of flame that had seemed to chase her as she made her escape from the courtyard.

Stepping into an alley, Sin collected her thoughts as she caught her breath. The con went perfectly, the festival was fun, the dancers were beautiful, the fire was hot... My dress is ruined, but I didn't get burned. So, no problem.

The Onikh were the army's problem. The Kersh people's problem. The royal family's problem.

She heard a cluster of heavy footsteps, metal against the cobblestones, and a group of soldiers ran past her alleyway, barking orders at one another.

The Onikh are their problem.

Sidling out of her alley, Sin slipped the thin, knotted rope from around her wrist, and used it to tie her dark locks up out of her face. Passing the same window she had passed earlier that evening, she caught her reflection once more, and paused.

Her reflection's eyes widened, realization flooding her face in an single, sharp instant.

"Disa."

Where the hell is Disa?!

She looked about her, suddenly frantic. "Disa?" No reply, and she hadn't expected one, but her heart sank nonetheless.

"Disa?!" Louder this time, but still no reply. Quickly and desperately, Sin weaved through the abandoned stalls that clustered the street's edges. A small and dark body, seemingly trampled in the chaos. She turned it over to see its face, but the figure was a stranger. She left it where she found it, pressed into the cobblestones.

"Disa!"

A small frail thing, he was. It would be easy for him to get swept away with the crowd. Maybe I'll find him like the other one, wedged into the gaps in the stones...

"Disa! When I find you I'm going to fucking-" Her words caught in her throat, her nails biting into her palms, drawing blood.

More red. I think that's enough red for today, don't you, Disa? So don't you dare let me find you red, okay?

"Out of the way!"

Another set of soldiers thundered past, barely sparing Sin a glance as they ran towards the palace. Sin watched them go, remembering the dancers. Disa is an awful dancer, but he does enjoy them, sometimes.

She was only just walking through the palace gates when she saw a trio running towards the dais. From the distance, she could not see their faces, only their shadowed frames. One was fiercely tall, and the second light and curly-haired, and the third...

...Disa?

Without a second thought, Sin followed.

Stepping to where she had last seen them, Sin looked about her, frowning. How did they-? Was I too slow? Maybe they-

The tremor made her stop mid-thought. The hum of the wood and the metal and the stone. The hum only a durast could hear.

Kneeling down, her fingers gently grazed across the ground. Then, with a harsh flick of her wrist, she tore the door from its hiding place. Peering down into the tunnel, a smile tugged at her lips, and she continued to follow the three figures into the darkness.

---

Adisa looked about him with a slight moue, the dirt and dust of the so-called 'safe house' bitterly unappreciated.

"There's a basin for water and rations on the shelves. I have to say I wasn't expecting a stay in this decrepit hole any time soon. Preferably ever."

"That makes two of us." Adisa's tone was curt, and, in somewhat of a change of character, he noted his rudeness almost immediately. His next comment was awkward, Adisa unused to speaking such things, let alone sincerely. "But thank you."

The new arrivals had him taking a step back in spite of himself, and he gritted his teeth before eyeing the strangers in a combination of curiosity and confusion, noting what he could about them from a distance.

Fang... Katya Volkov... as in, Second Commander Katya Volkov?... Aleksey Utkin... Taras Nikolaev... Marina Pavus... And someone called Dima is on the way... and then there's the girl I came here with and-

The door of the tunnel burst open, and a familiar figure emerged from the darkness.

"Sin."

As Sin's eyes met his own, a strange expression seemed to wash over the Shu woman's face. However, just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, and Disa had no time to analyse it. Her second look, however, he did have chance to reply to. It was a questioning one, and he shrugged unhelpfully. Prompting a slight flex of the jaw- a clear sign of annoyance on the Shu's part.

Disa watched her as she looked over the Inn's other occupants, expression almost condemnatory. Then she noticed the other Shu in the room, and her brow rose in a look of sheer perplexity. Her lip curved sideways into a bewildered half smile as she addressed Fang. "The fuck are you doing here?"

Vida’s hands clung tightly to Fang’s wrists, her body poised in front of him as if she might somehow protect the tall Shu man from any sudden attack by the Heartrender. His tone and attitude shocked her, for in the years she had known the privateer, rarely had Vida seen him so aggressive. Nevertheless, she would side with him regardless, and only later, when the tension had dissipated somewhat, would Vida grill him with questions about the quarrel she had just witnessed, among other things. For now, she would merely watch and wait.

The blonde healer stumbled forward, his nervousness on obvious display as he neared the volatile soldier. Katya’s words were soft, yet Vida heard them nonetheless. Her brow furrowed at the implication behind them, and suddenly Vida felt a wave of guilt creep over her. She had merely assumed that the blonde, Taras, was with the other two. A friend or comrade. Had she thought him anything other than that, she wouldn’t have pulled him halfway to the safe house.

Though tension still laced the air, Vida sensed that the worst of it was over. For now. Reluctantly, her hands slowly loosened their hold on the privateer, though she remained close. Her gaze flicked towards the newest addition to the group, to find another individual of Shu descent; another wonderfully tall Shu. “Damn, those Shu genes are good.” She thought absently to herself, as the dark-skinned boy already in the room offered up the newcomer’s name – Sin.

Words were traded between those gathered, and Vida listened with one ear, while the majority of her attention was pulled instead to the entrance of three individuals. One was a bearded man of tall stature, an easy grace to his walk and a pair of knives at his hip indicating that he was, at the least, a decent fighter. It was, of course, her brother.

“Took him long enough. Vida thought with a cheeky wink at the elder Giese.

Beside him stood Frigg, and between them was a grisha she had never seen before. Vida could only assume that this was the alkemi Dima had been searching for. Fighting the urge to greet Dima and Frigg with a hug – her usual greeting, which seemed rather inappropriate in the current circumstances – Vida instead turned her gaze on the shaking healer as his patient abruptly left. Leaving Fang’s side, Alvida approached the blonde the way one might move towards an easily startled animal. Baby animal.

“Taras, right? Are you okay?” She asked softly, a hand coming up to idly brush a strand of his golden locks behind his shoulder. The squaller’s fingers itched to play more with the silky strands, yet she held herself in check. She didn’t need to scare the healer any more than he clearly was.

He was apprehensive, his eyes downcast and unwilling to meet Vida’s gaze. His eyes would have remained on his feet had Taras’ glasses not slid down his nose. Raising his head to keep them from slipping clean off and pushing them back up his nose, he found himself eye to eye with 'Marina'. Only then did the healer see the concern in the smuggler’s eyes. He managed a weak smile and shrugged, unsure how to explain the stress he was currently under. Being pulled through the city by an alleged traitor and told that any attempt to return to the palace might result in the death of his family… it was more than he could process in one moment.

"I'm fine. I-..." Taras began, not all that convincingly, before he was distracted. A small frown pulled at his mouth. "You're hurt."

Vida followed the blonde's gaze to find a shallow cut on her arm. She hadn't even noticed the wound, too concerned with the drama that had consumed her attention. Her fingers came up to prod at the graze, only to have them brushed aside by the healer's hands.

"Let me." He offered, his voice sounding slightly steadier now that he was doing something he was comfortable with. Taras' hands hovered over the wound, pale blue eyes concentrated on Vida's skin as he pulled his power forth. The skin beneath his palms began to itch, the skin creeping back into place, the wound sealing. It took less than a minute. The wound had been light, and despite seeing to some of Katya's injuries, Taras was still far from tired. When his hands fell back to his sides, Vida found her skin scarless, though still in need of a quick clean.

"Thank you, Taras!" Vida exclaimed quietly, a smile breaking across her face as her eyes flitted from her arm to the blonde healer. Without a thought she slung an arm around his shoulders in a one-armed hug, gave him a a squeeze, and then pulled back. The only reason she didn't notice his faint blush was because Vida had already turned to eye Aleks and Katya as they returned from a side room. If needed she was more than willing to stand between the second-commander and the privateer again.

And then-... "Jorges and Helga? She thought skeptically, eyeing up the pair of 'missionaries' who had fallen through the threshold. They were as likely to be missionaries as she was to be the emperor of Shu Han. Vida bit her tongue and watched as Fang humoured them, her initial confusion at his approach quickly turning to understanding as she realised his play. The squaller attempted to visibly relax her body, though her eyes remained calculating. Across the room Vida caught Dima's eye. He merely raised an amused eyebrow, and suddenly she was biting back a smile.

"You would think this was fun." Vida attempted to telepathically communicate to her brother. He must have recognised something in her expression for he responded by raising both eyebrows in a clear question. Vida's smile spread and she rolled her eyes, she was having fun, despite it all.

Beside her, Taras' momentary confidence quickly faded. He felt the weight of the 'missionaries'' eyes on him, and as he shifted nervously from foot to foot, he wished that he was in plain clothes rather than his palace healer kefta. Almost subconsciously he moved closer to Vida, his gaze falling from the new arrivals to flicker across the ground and land on his feet.

Before an awkward silence could engulf the group, or any more uncomfortable questions be fired across the room, Fang stepped forward. Vida's gaze naturally turned towards him, waiting expectantly for her friend to speak.

“We journey west tomorrow,” Fang said levelly. “You are welcome aboard our ship, if only to escape the chaos in Ravka. The same goes for all of you.” He turned to address the others in the room. “I can assure you there is a reason for our meeting tonight, but I’m afraid any explanations will have to wait for when we’re no longer on Ravkan soil. Some of you do not know me and some will not be comforted for having known me before today.” He offered Adisa and Sin a wry smile. “Frankly, you have no reason to trust me. However, I am in possession of information pertinent to all of you and I would ask only that you reserve your judgment until after you have heard what I have to say. What must be said. "

“You are pieces of a very important puzzle that will determine the fates of every Grisha and non-Grisha alike. If after you have shared in my revelations you do not wish to play any part in this war, I will gladly take you to wherever it is you wish to go. Until then, get some rest. We leave at first light.”

Alvida and Dmitri both trusted Fang with their lives, and there was no doubt in either of their minds that they would help their friend. An ideal situation would see them paid as well, but for now, Vida was willing to give Fang the time needed to explain himself. Besides, she hadn't had this much fun in weeks. With an easy step forward, the squaller slapped a hand on Fang's shoulder, a grin on her face as she gazed up at the man,

"Sure thing, captain." She teased, "You sounded very heroic, Fang. I think I might swoon."