Reading Time: 81 Minutes

Title: Starry Night
Author: Lalaith Quetzalli
Fandom: Shadow and Bone
Genre: Angst, Fantasy, Pre-Relationship, Romance, Time Travel
Relationship(s): The Darkling | Aleksandr Morozova/Alina Starkov, Background Relationships
Content Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence-Graphic, Racism, Murder, Implied Hate Crimes, Referenced Domestic Abuse, Referenced Child Abuse, Referenced Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Referenced Slavery, Violence – Canon Level, Religious References, Brief Implied Suicidal Intention/Ideation.
Word Count: 69,261
Summary: Aleksandr was right and Alina’s not even surprised. She once thought that it was cruelty, evil, that made ‘wanting to destroy’ his first choice for everything; now she knows the truth: it was sadness, and defeat, and loneliness. It was losing so much and so many. Alina’s tired of losing. She knows now, she’d do things so differently, if she had another chance. But it’s not like it’s possible to change the past. Time-travel just doesn’t exist… right?
Artist: Librarycat9

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Chapter VIII. The Dreams

Aleksandr doesn’t make it back to Os Alta before Alina must depart with her team for their next trip.

It’s an important trip, one they spent half the winter planning and preparing for. They knew from the start that any trip south would naturally take longer than the ones they’ve taken thus far, to the northern region, so after a lot of consideration, and several ideas being discussed, it was decided that the team would be expanded: Alina remains team leader, with Genya as her second. However, now Zoya, Sergei and David have each chosen several members of their respective orders (those gifted enough, and young enough not to be serving in the Second Army already) to join them on the trip south. Unlike previous trips, they will not visit a single province (or two), but instead will take the whole sector, starting in Keramzin, heading southwest towards Tsemna and other villages in that area, then southeast from them to Caryeva and whatever other settlements might still exist in the region. They plan to follow the Sikurzoi mountains northeast somewhat next, at least until just south of the forest, keeping south of it as they make the trek back north towards the village of Ryazan, which was said to be half in the forest of the same name, just a few days walk from Keramzin.

All in all, they expect the full circuit to take them around 4 months which, added to the time it’ll take them to get to Keramzin in the first place, and to travel back to Os Alta from Ryazan, the group is expected to be away until early to mid-autumn, if all goes well.

It will be a long trip, yet very important nonetheless. Which is why it’s being planned so carefully, and why their departure won’t be delayed, no matter how much a part of Alina might want to wait, to remain in Os Alta until Aleksandr returns. Not that it’s likely to happen any time soon.

While the situation in Kribirsk was far less dire than the initial message and talk of an explosion might have implied, it was still not as easily solved as Alina might have hoped for.

First of all, the explosion was, in fact, caused by a bomb, an experimental one, created by the First Army (those on the Western side, to be precise). It was sent across the Fold, hidden among the barrels of salt, fish and other products that were regularly transported to East Ravka. The bomb was activated by a suicidal First Army soldier, amid cries of ‘Independence for West Ravka!’.

However, it was clear that either the attack wasn’t planned as carefully, or the soldier got too nervous and acted at the wrong time. Also, according to the General, the Grisha reacted instantly the moment the explosion happened. All the squallers who were close working on containment, while the inferni took over the small fires caused by what flaming debris the squallers didn’t manage to stop. After that, between squallers pulling the oxygen from the flames, and tidemakers summoning water from the Sokol River, the matter was under control in minutes.

Perhaps the only truly bizarre thing about the whole event are the frequent déjà vus Alina keeps experiencing, as whenever a new message arrives regarding what’s going on in Kribirsk, she’ll realize she already knows at least some of the contents of it. The reason? She dreamt of it. She keeps dreaming of Aleksandr (which isn’t a surprise, truly), and while some of those dreams have them getting hot and heavy with each other (though never truly crossing the line into actual sex), some just have them talking. Either while in his war room, his private office, or once or twice in what she knows to be his tent in Kribirsk (despite the fact that she’s never actually been there, in this life).

The thing is, some of those talks went into the explosion, Aleksandr’s research into it and other little tidbits.

The first time Fedyor (who initially stayed behind to run things at the Little Palace while his husband followed Aleksandr to Kribirsk) hands Alina one of the messages and she notices that some of the details mentioned there (like how quickly the squallers reacted, and the thanks his Grisha received from the First Army for their prompt action, which kept the fire from reaching their camp) are things she already knew, because Aleksandr said them to her in a dream… it throws her. Especially because it isn’t the last time she happens to already know some of the things mentioned in the messages.

It’s never all of it, and she even happens to get a couple of things wrong (like the fact that there was a second bomb, which failed to explode; or that there are plans to send a squad of Grisha to NovoKribirsk to confront Zlatan and his ilk, soon). So in the end Alina convinces herself that the whole thing is nothing more than a coincidence.

The one that takes her most by surprise, however, is when she dreams of Aleksandr telling her the truth of his past:

“Do you know why they chose to use the title of Black Heretic?” he asks her.

They’re at the old fountain depicting the creation of the Fold (there’s no snow on the ground and they’re wearing silk keftas instead of woolen ones, but neither of them seem to notice the incongruity). The two of them are sitting on a picnic blanket, eating some pastries and drinking some watered wine (they’re not going to risk being drunk when they still have to ride back to the Little Palace).

“What…?” Alina’s a bit at a loss. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, there are people who do evil all the time, even traitors, whether real or imagined, why such a title as ‘Black Heretic’…?”

“Well, a heretic is supposed to be someone who goes against what is generally accepted…” Alina murmurs thoughtfully. “Also, I think it tends to have religious implications…” she trails off as it hits her: “A Saint?! The Heretic was a Saint?!”

“You pointed it out remember? How so many Saints had been Grisha…?”

She did and yet she never thought…

“I don’t… What…?” Alina has no idea what to say to any of that.

“Remember how I told you that it’s never been easy, being Grisha?” Aleksandr asks her gently. “I meant it. More than you probably realized.”

“I don’t understand,” she doesn’t, though probably not for the reasons Aleksandr might expect.

While many times she’s wondered at how it might have been, had Aleksandr chosen to tell her the truth himself, instead of avoiding it until Baghra did (and in the worst possible way too), she never really stopped to think about how it might have happened. Which is why it takes her so much by surprise.

He goes into a very elaborate story. Some things she knows already: Anastas Lantsov as Tsar, the instability of Ravka, the choice the Tsar made to have a Grisha as a military advisor; some things she’s long since suspected: like the fact that Grisha’s lives were much harder back then, far more at risk than with the current wars. There’s also a fair amount that she could have never imagined: Aleksandr being the one to seek out Anastas doesn’t surprise her, even his explanation that he hoped serving the Tsar would earn his respect, and the man’s protection for Grisha… She knows Aleksandr, better than she did even in her first-life and even back then she’d realized that Aleksandr’s first and strongest motivation was and always will be the protection of Grisha…

There’s more though: the Tula Valley, the place gifted to one Aleksandr Morozova to serve as a Grisha sanctuary. A place Anastas has no trouble ceding because there was no value in it… at least, not until the Grisha refugees working together made something out of it. The ease with which Anastas believes that Aleksandr would turn on him… as much as it saddens Alina, it doesn’t surprise her.

And then there’s Luda… Alina has long since understood that there had to have been a lot of pain and grief in Aleksandr’s past. Which was proven when he told her about his first friend, back when he was a child, the first time he used the Cut… And yet she could have never imagined anything like what happened with Luda… Is it any surprise that a part of him would break after such a loss? And it wasn’t even just the loss of her, no. Her Aleksandr was much too strong for the breaking of his own heart to make him fully unravel. It was the thought of her loss being for nothing, of all Grisha dying pointlessly after Tsar Anastas turned on them all. That was when Aleksander well and truly broke.

“Oh Aleksandr…” Alina breathes out.

She holds him tight, refusing to let go even when he insists, when he tries to convince her he’s alright. He eventually stops fighting her and then… and then he finally allows himself to cry in her arms. He cries, a torrent of tears and soundless sobs for so long she cannot count the time. Makes a part of her wonder how long he’s been holding it all in… probably about four centuries or so!

When Alina wakes up, a part of her wonders at how her mind might have come up with such a story about the creation of the Shadow Fold…

Alina’s curiosity is enough that she goes looking for whatever information she might find on the time right before the creation of the Shadow Fold. It’s less than she might have hoped for, but still enough to confuse her. Aleksandr Morozova becoming a military advisor to Tsar Anastas Lantsov, the granting of the Tula Valley to the Grisha refugees, even the attack of the First Army (back then the only army) following the Tsar declaring the Darkling a traitor. It’s all there, more or less like how the Aleksandr of her dream told it.

There’s even mention of a Luda, no last name given, an orphan, a healer. One of the people in charge of the Grisha camp in Morozova’s absence. According to the notes she’d been stabbed to death a couple of days before the creation of the Shadow Fold, though it wasn’t stated why or by who. Either it wasn’t known or it was considered a secret… Still, it’s enough to make Alina wonder.

And then one thing happens that Alina never expected: Baghra goes looking for her!

Alina’s honestly surprised when a Grisha tells her she’s expected in the War-Room. Particularly since she knows that Aleksandr isn’t in the Little Palace, and if Ivan wanted to talk to her (Fedyor being the one accompanying the General for the time being) he’d go to Alina rather than summon her, especially to Aleksandr’s quarters! Still, Alina goes, curious above all else. A part of her wonders if perhaps Aleksandr made it back early and he just hasn’t made it known, maybe it’s supposed to be a surprise?

Then she hears the sound of stone grinding, not loud exactly but she’s heard it so many times in dreams (in nightmares!), particularly in another life, that she recognizes it right away, spinning around and raising a hand in a defensive gesture, her whole body tense, all shadows in the room seemingly vibrating, awaiting her command.

Baghra actually arches a brow, head tilted to the side as she contemplates Alina:

“Not so useless, then,” she comments in a somewhat dismissive manner. “Good, you’ll need those instincts to survive out there.”

“Out there?” Alina parrots, because the crone cannot possibly mean…

“Out there, in the real world,” Baghra clarifies. “You need to leave this place.”

Alina almost facepalms because, really? She’s not even the Sun Summoner this time around!

“I’m not going anywhere,” Alina tells the old woman calmly.

“I’m trying to save you from living the rest of your life as a slave,” Baghra snaps at her.

“What…?” Alina blinks, because this is so utterly ridiculous… “I have no idea what you’re talking about ma’am, but if you think that I, or any Grisha is at risk here in the Little Palace perhaps we ought to talk to the General…”

“It’s him I’m trying to save you from, little girl!” At Alina’s continued disbelief, Baghra presses. “He intends to expand the Fold and use it as a weapon. That’s what he created it for in the first place.”

“The Black Heretic created the Fold.” Alina’s reply to the accusation is automatic. “Hundreds of years ago, and it was a mistake.”

“Is that what he told you? A mistake?” Baghra snorts. “The Fold was no mistake. Not really. It might not have been what he intended, that much is true, but it’s not that far apart either.”

“I don’t understand,” Because really, can that old woman be any vaguer?

“That man tried creating his own army with merzost. He didn’t think about the people who lived there, what such power would do to them. Turned them into the twisted, evil things that attack others, Grisha and otkazat’sya both with absolutely no regard for who they might be. They will tear you apart if given the chance, as they have so many others. On and on, forevermore.” She shakes her head, seemingly more for show than anything else. “I warned him there would be a price.”

“That happened centuries ago!” Alina snaps, unable to help herself. “The Black Heretic…”

Alina really doesn’t understand how any of this is happening. Their conversation, their whole encounter is so similar and at the same time so different to the one in the other timeline. It’s the strangest thing she’s ever experienced. Even more so than her recent Déjà vus.

“Child, your General is the Black Heretic,” Baghra states, like it should be obvious. “He’s had many names, served many kings, faked countless deaths, waiting for something like you.”

“Something like me…?” Alina hates being treated like a thing rather than a person, but at the same time, she’s confused.

“I told you, he wants to use the Fold as a weapon. He cannot do it alone, but with another Shadow Summoner by his side… one he can make do his biding… With you at his command, he’ll be able to enter the Fold and weaponize it as he always planned. He’ll be unstoppable.”

“You talk as if I were a puppet, as if I had no will of my own.”

“Do you?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then you’ll leave!”

“No, I won’t,” Alina cannot help herself as she adds. “I won’t leave him.”

“Foolish little girl!” Baghra yells at her. “Will you condemn all of Ravka, the whole continent, out of stupid sentiment?!”

“Feelings aren’t stupid,” Alina retorts.

“No, but perhaps you are,” Baghra scoffs. “Foolish little girl, thinking you know so much, while knowing nothing at all! Understand, he’s had centuries to master lying to naïve girls. Did he tell you how lonely he was? Give you a glimpse of the wounded boy? He isn’t a boy at all. He is eternal.”

For a moment it looks like she’s going to say something else, but she doesn’t. She just looks at Alina, a penetrating stare that reminds the young shadow summoner of Aleksandr, while at the same time feeling nothing like him. It’s eerie.

“You know,” Baghra breathes out suddenly, looking honestly surprised for perhaps the first time ever. “You knew already. All of it. About his identity, about his actions. You know… and you’re still here.”

For a moment Alina considers lying, or at least concealing the truth, but in the end she doesn’t, she doesn’t see the point.

“Stupid, stupid little girl,” Baghra hisses at her. “You’ve condemned us all.”

And without further ado, she leaves.

That night, Alina dreams again. It doesn’t happen every night; or well, maybe it does, but most nights her dreams are actually plain, simple, at times even whimsical things that she remembers very little of come morning. Even when some of those dreams might include Aleksandr, they’re simple things, more fantasy than reality and most of the time she doesn’t even realize she’s dreaming. And then there are the nights when Alina knows she’s dreaming right from the start and the dreams feel like… more. This is one such night.

She’s standing in a corner of the War-Room, concealed by the shadows, though she doesn’t truly realize it until Aleksandr steps into the room, looking for her, and he doesn’t see her…

“Alina…?” he calls. “Milaya…?”

She watches him do a circuit around the room, his eyes passing right by where she’s standing without stopping on her, like he cannot see her at all…

“Alina!” he calls, louder, a hint of… something, coloring his voice.

“Aleksandr…?” she asks as she steps forth, the shadows slipping off her soundlessly.

He spins around instantly, his whole face seemingly lighting up the moment his eyes lay on her.

“You’re here,” he breathes out, a hint of relief in his voice.

He embraces her and she hugs him back. The hug goes on for longer than she might have expected and she cannot help but notice that.

She thinks about the last Dream she had, the one where he told her the truth about his past, and beyond the strangeness of the story, and the fact that she still doesn’t know how she came to learn some of those facts without being fully aware of them, though at the same time with enough detail for her unconscious brain to be able to use them in a dream. Regardless of any possible explanation, the dream was still pretty cathartic to her, in a way. She wonders if she might find the same kind of satisfaction if she did it the other way around.

“I talked to your mother,” she blurts out.

Aleksandr pulls back from her so abruptly Alina can only blink. For a moment it even seems like he’ll back away from her entirely and she tightens her hold on him instinctively in response. Which actually makes him freeze as he looks at her, as if searching for something in her eyes…

“You know…” he breathes out in a mix of honest confusion, shocked disbelief, and something that Alina can’t quite name but in another she might call abject horror.

“Everything,” she confirms.

For a moment he doesn’t say a thing, just continues to stare at her and then…

“Why aren’t you running away?” he eventually blurts out.

“Oh Aleksandr…” she hesitates a moment and then. “Sasha…”

It’s Aleksandr’s turn to blink. He clearly wasn’t expecting that. With the life he’s led, it’s quite possible no one’s ever given him a nickname, or at least not one like that, not with love behind it instead of hate, or fear or derision…

“I love you Sasha,” she murmurs, voice quiet yet strong, and so very full of feeling, raising her hands to cradle his face between them. “I told you before. And it is as true now as it was then, as it’s ever been. I love you.”

“Oh, moya lyubov’…” Aleksandr gasps, before crashing his mouth into hers.

It’s not the only Dream she has following that theme, they’re all slightly different. In some Aleksandr takes longer to trust that not only she truly does know the truth about him, but that she doesn’t care, or well, that she loves him anyway; one memorable occasion he goes as far as almost fleeing from her! Eventually Dream!Aleksandr seems to believe that she really does know the truth about his past and loves him regardless.

Alina can only hope she’ll get to that one day in the real world, with the real Aleksandr, too (and hopefully it’ll only take her one try!).

xXx

Finally the day comes and the team leaves Os Alta for south Ravka. Alina at the front of their small caravan, astride her white mare Zvezdnyy (Star), a gift from Aleksandr. Genya is in one of the two carriages, durast made and well-protected, where they’ll carry whatever Grishenka they happen to come across during their travels. They also have two wagons David and Sergei are in charge of, which hold the majority of their supplies (clothes, foodstuffs, herbs for healing, camping gear, etc). The rest of the Grisha, and the half dozen oprichniki traveling with them, are on horses as well.

They make good time to Keramzin, where Duke Keramsov insists on receiving them, and on housing the entire team in his manor house at least for one night. The man makes a big deal about how honored he is by their presence, and insists on having a feast for dinner. Perhaps the only consolation being that he includes his staff and even those at the orphanage.

“So… you grew up here?” Genya asks her that night as they stand by the window of the room they (and Zoya) have been assigned.

“More or less,” Alina answers, before eventually pointing southeast, in the direction of the second biggest building of the estate.

It’s the old guest-quarters, from back when the Keramsov family was huge, and they actually lived year round in the estate. Though that was generations prior, the place has served as an orphanage for as long as Alina can remember. Ever since the Duke returned from his service with the First Army, from what she remembers hearing Ana Kuya say.

“It’s very… picturesque,” Zoya murmurs, after failing to find a better word for it.

“It’s no Little Palace,” Alina shrugs. “I cannot even say it was home, that was further south, in a place I’m not even sure still exists now, and has been lost to me since my mother was injured in that Shu attack, so many years ago…”

“Your mother was killed by Shu invaders?” Genya asks, horrified. “But…”

“The orphanage matron said your parents were killed by the Fold,” Zoya points out.

“Yeah, that’s what she always says,” Alina nods. “I don’t know if it’s because it’s easier than trying to explain the full story of what happened or… I was young when my parents died, you know? My mother was injured in an attack, but she didn’t die. And my father… he crossed the Fold hoping to find help on the other side, he never came back. I don’t even know if he died, either in West Ravka, or in the Fold, or if he just chose to abandon us once he made it to the other side… if he ever did.” She shakes her head. “My mother died not long after it became obvious he wasn’t coming back. She never did recover from the injuries. And then I was sent to the orphanage.”

“Oh Alina…” Genya murmurs, hugging her best friend.

“As to Ana Kuya’s version of the story… I don’t know. Maybe she only ever heard how my father died, exactly, and thought it was the both of them, or maybe… maybe it was just easier, an easier story to tell, than trying to explain the details.”

“And yet you know,” Zoya murmurs.

“I know, yes.” Alina nods. “I was young, but not that young.”

The following day they visit the orphanage, the durasts helping secure the building, while one of the alkemi works on the well to ensure the water is as pure as possible.

It’s not a big deal, not for them. It’s no more or less than they’ve done for many other people, in various places. But she knows that for those at the orphanage it makes a big difference indeed.

The Duke makes a big deal of Alina being ‘one of his orphans’, despite the fact that she knows for a fact the man doesn’t recognize her; and he certainly didn’t know her during the Winter Fete, but she doesn’t comment on it, just smiling and nodding at the man. Ana Kuya does know her. Then again, the matron has always been pretty sharp.

“You’ve made a good life for yourself,” she tells Alina gruffly.

“I’ve tried,” Alina shrugs a bit.

“I used to worry about you, you know?” The woman’s comment honestly surprises Alina. “You were such a small thing, so bright and brave and I thought back then, not controlled enough. With such a sharp tongue and your Shu features… this world is cruel.”

“I know,” Alina nods, because she does.

“I wasn’t sure you would be able to survive in it,” Ana Kuya admits. “Glad to see I was wrong.”

It’s the last thing she says before turning around and making her way back inside the orphanage. No word of goodbye, or good luck, nothing at all. Alina’s not surprised. Ana Kuya has never been the kind to grow attached to the orphans, in either life. Being all too aware how fragile life can be, how easily children can be lost, orphans most especially. Alina doesn’t begrudge the old matron her emotional distance. It’s what she’s had to do to survive. In the end all Alina can hope is that Ana Kuya’s life will turn out better now than it did in another time (at least in this one the orphanage won’t end up in someone’s crosshairs during a needless war… or so she hopes).

xXx

After the peace she found, following the Dreams where she and Aleksandr talked about his past, his secrets, Alina feels tempted to use one such Dream to explore what it might be like to talk to him about her own secrets:

It seems almost fitting that they’re in his tent in Kribirsk. Though unlike her memories from so long ago, the place is empty except for him when she steps in.

“Lapushka…?” Aleksandr asks, straightening up a bit from his position slumping against his table.

For a moment Alina just stares at him. Even knowing what she wants to do, she hasn’t actually planned how she’d go about it. So in the end she decides to just… wing it.

“Alina Starkov, Assistant Cartographer, Royal Corps of Surveyors,” she recites, solemnly.

“What…?” Aleksandr blinks, not understanding.

“That’s what I said to you, once, on our first meeting, when you asked me who I was,” she explains.

“I… I don’t understand, milaya. The first time we met you were eight years old, the examiners brought you in when they found you, in Keramzin.”

“In this world, yes.” Alina takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “In another world I cared too much for my one friend, or maybe it was just that I was too afraid of change. I hurt myself and hid my injury from the examiners, ensuring they’d not find out I was Grisha.” She pauses, thinking about it. “It’s funny because, at that age… I hadn’t even manifested yet. There’s no way I could have known I needed to trick the test so as not to be found as Grisha. And yet…” And yet she somehow knew, and she did. “I grew up as otkazat’sya…”

“That’s not possible,” Aleksandr cuts her off. “The wasting sickness…”

“Yeah, it was bad. How do you think I know the symptoms so well?” She shakes her head. “So like I was saying. I grew up otkazat’sya. Weak and sickly. The First Army rejected me when I tried to join at sixteen. So I took the next two years to study hard, joining the Royal Corps of Surveyors at eighteen. At 20 I was good enough to be granted the rank to Corporal. And then…” She sighs. “And then there was the Ultralight. After an accident caused all the maps to go up in flames all the cartographers were ordered to get on the sandskiff for the crossing. We were about two markers in when one of the blue-lamps failed. Someone from my team, I don’t even remember who it was, freaked out and lit a lantern… it was a disaster.”

Aleksandr’s wince tells her she doesn’t need to elaborate.

“I… don’t remember a lot of what happened.” Alina admits, and it’s the truth, whether it’s because of the trauma, but how long it’s been, or perhaps due to how much she’s changed… “There was a friend of mine on the skiff, one of the volcra grabbed him and I… it was like something in me snapped. That was the first time my abilities manifested.”

That’s just the start of it. It takes time, but over the course of a number of weeks and Dreams that seem to interconnect she manages to talk to Aleksandr about most of her other life. Pretty much all but his death, the aftermath… and the fact that back then she was the Sun Summoner.

She never really thinks too hard about the fact that Aleksandr never questions the veracity of her story. That, aside from asking her once if she’s sure that she time-traveled and that she didn’t have… some sort of prophetic dream or something (which, to be fair, she doesn’t think she can know for certain one way or the other, but does it make a difference in the grand scheme of things?), he doesn’t really seem to doubt her. He’s clearly affected by the fact that things went so wrong between them, but at the same time he seems to understand why, and see that both of them made mistakes.

Then again, why wouldn’t he believe her, it’s not like he’s real in the end. Everything’s just dreams, after all… right?

xXx

Things go well enough in Tsemna, and the couple of nameless settlements closest to that town. Then the caravan moves on. They make it as far south as Caryeva and no further.

“It’s too dangerous to go further south, my lady,” Baroness Beritrova’s retainer tells Alina. “Shu incursions have been especially intense in recent years.”

“They’ve taken the valley of Dva Stolba, again,” the Innkeeper points out.

The Baroness does not have enough room in her mansion to house them all, though she does try to insist that Alina and her ‘inner circle’ stay with her, at least until Sergei insists that as leaders themselves they ought to be with their people. Zoya points out later on how the woman looked actually relieved that her invitation was turned down. Making it obvious she must be one of those not as accepting of Grisha in the area.

“It doesn’t matter whether they like us or not,” Alina declares. “We’re here to help those who need us, not to make nice with the nobles.”

While they’re mostly in private when she says it, she ends up being overheard by one of the maids at the inn, her words being repeated among the peasantry in the following days.

“The nobles are not going to like this,” Zoya points out when they find out.

Alina just shrugs, it’s not like she can do anything to take back what she’s already said. And truth is, Zoya doesn’t even disagree with her, she’s just more aware of things than Alina is sometimes.

As if to emphasize the point, however, Aleksandr berates Alina during one of the Dreams a few days later. To which she mutters about how gossip is faster than even royal messengers.

“That’s always been the case,” the general agrees. “But you must be very careful, milaya. There are many dangers that come with gossiping tongues, not just because of how sharp and quick they can be, but also because more often than not, tales tend to grow in the telling. Your comment may have been innocent enough, talking about how you were there to help peasants most of all. It wouldn’t surprise me if by the time they reach Os Alta, the stories are about you decrying the nobility and claiming they’re not deserving of aid the way the peasantry are.”

“But I never said that!” Alina exclaims.

“No, you did not,” Aleksandr concedes. “But what do you think is the more interesting story for the gossiping tongues to repeat? That a Grisha lady and her entourage are kind and solicitous to all the people in Ravka… or that the narodnaya printsessa hates all nobles and helps only the peasants?”

“Narodnaya printsessa?!” Alina gasps. “But I’m not a princess!”

“No, you’re a future Queen.”

Alina does, at least, try to be more careful with what she says, and where she says it in the future. It doesn’t always work, people will always gossip after all, but at least she does try.

xXx

Halfway through their stay in Caryeva there’s a Shu attack on the town. Alina’s talking to the Baroness about the things that regularly affect the town (like weather and such) so they’ll have a better idea of what things might require more attention to ensure they’ll last, when the warning comes. The Baroness immediately orders all guards to their posts to protect her and the gates of her estate barred.

“Come on, my lady,” she tells Alina as she hurries inside. “We’ll be safe here,”

Alina just looks at her with a mix of anger and pity. It’s… she understands that the lady might be afraid. Also, that she might not be of an age to fight anymore (though, she’s Ravkan, and not of a particularly rich family, so she has to have served in the First Army, right?), but for her to not just hide, but demand that her guards protect her and her property, and not all of Caryeva…

In the end Alina says not a word. Behind her she can hear Sergei shouting orders to the Grisha with them, while Zoya takes command of the otkazat’sya, both men and women, who show themselves willing to fight. Alina joins them. She has a wild idea, as she watches the lines of approaching Shu soldiers, taking a quick look to try and make sure there are no Ravkans among their numbers. When she’s fairly certain of it she makes up her mind.

“Zoya, Sergei, keep them back!” she yells at her friends as she jumps on her horse and rides hard until she’s just past the limits of the town.

Her friends have no idea what she’s planning, but they do as asked.

Once she’s left the buildings all behind, with nothing more than fields and hills before her, Alina jumps off her horse and takes a couple more steps forward. She knows she has a matter of minutes before the enemies reach her. They’re lucky enough Caryeva is high enough on a hill that someone could see the invaders coming with plenty of time for the town to be warned.

Alina takes just a handful of seconds to center herself, brace, then she takes a deep breath as she grabs the shadows and pulls. Hands twisting and arms following the motions, she exhales at the same time she pushes out, and a Shadow Cut is shot at the enemy lines.

In the end the Cut isn’t big enough to take the entirety of the attacking force, but she does manage to kill a few, and badly injure twice as many. The remaining Shu soldiers are shocked enough by the attack that their formation is no longer quite as tight and ordered. A few even turn their backs and flee, terrified that they might be next.

The battle doesn’t last too long, the Grisha working well together, despite the fact that none of them really have experience in battle. Their skill is quite obvious, and they work well together. The peasants end up being mostly support, helping guard the Grisha’s backs a few times, and keeping the invaders who try to flee away from their homes and farms.

The team ends up staying in Caryeva several days more than planned, as messages are sent to the closest First Army camp so their soldiers can retrieve what few prisoners they have from the attack, and while they help the people build some defenses (everyone knows that sooner or later there will be another attack, and the Grisha won’t be there to help next time). Alina wishes she could talk to Aleksandr, or at least with Ivan, ask him to send some Second Army soldiers to the south, as it’s clear the First Army alone is not enough to hold ground against the Shu invasions.

The Grisha are halfway to Rayzan, almost at the southern limits of the Raysun Forest in fact, when they come across a squad of Grisha led by Vatra Sesh, heading south towards the Shu border. Apparently an urgent message from General Kirigan arrived at the Grisha base in Sikursk, ordering for their best team to be sent to reinforce the First Army Soldiers trying and failing to hold ground south of Caryeva. There will be more soldiers from both armies sent from Poliznaya and Os Alta as soon as possible, but until then, the Grisha will have to hold the territory.

As surprised as some are by how fast the help is being sent, it’s General Kirigan. Most Grisha revere the man for one reason or another, so no one really doubts that he could find out what’s going on so far from Os Alta even without being there. So Alina and her team wish Vatra and her squad well, and then their groups split and continue their travels.

xXx

The news reaches them when they come across a merchant caravan, two or three days outside of Rayzan: Tsaritsa Kalyna is dead, along with her unborn child.

“We tried to help her,” Aleksandr tells her during the next Dream. “Which, I know might not sound like me, after all, am I not trying to get rid of the Lantsovs…” He scoffs.

“Of course it sounds like you,” Alina cuts him off. “There was a baby involved, an innocent. No matter how much you might dislike someone, how much they might deserve your hate even, you would never do something that might hurt an innocent: Grisha or otkazat’sya.”

“You really think that?” Aleksandr sounds more hesitant than she’s ever heard him.

“I know it,” Alina states.

It might have taken her a very long time to truly see it, almost too long, even. Between everything that went wrong and all the ways they hurt each other. But eventually she realized it. That as much as Aleksandr might not like otkazat’sya in general, might not truly believe for peaceful cohabitation to be possible… he’ll always try to avoid hurting innocents, and who could ever be more innocent than a child? (Or at least, he’ll try as long as he’s in his right mind!)

“I tried sending our very best healers to them,” he explains. “Fedyor, Tasha, even called Maxim back from Ulensk. The Tsaritsa refused them all. She refused to allow any Grisha close to her, claiming that they… that we would corrupt her child, steal her baby and leave a demon in its place. It…”

“That was a very cruel thing to say,” Alina gasps, horrified.

And it cost her her life, and the life of her baby. Of course there’s no way of knowing for sure if the healers could have saved them, or even just one of them. And chances are that if they’d been allowed to try, only to fail, the consequences would have been dire. But still…

“You tried, Aleksandr,” Alina tells him in the end. “You, and Fedyor and Tasha and Maxim. You did your best. What happened… it isn’t on you.”

“No, it’s not.” Aleksandr agrees. “But you might end up being the one to pay the consequences.”

“What…?” Alina does understand.

“Well, the Tsaritsa is dead, the Tsar is now left without a queen, and with no heir yet,” Aleksandr explains. “The council is already pressing for him to marry again.”

“Already?!” Alina can hardly believe it. “What about the mourning period?!”

“Well, of course the wedding wouldn’t happen immediately. But they want to announce a betrothal soon. And the Apparat has already put forward a candidate, someone he believes to be ideal…”

“Who…?” Alina just knows she’s not gonna like it.

“You,”

Yeah, she knew she wasn’t going to like it.

 

Chapter IX. The Tether

What’s going on…?

Where is she?

When is she?

She thinks she can hear someone calling her name, but the voice sounds so far away…

She’s deep in the dark, a darkness so much deeper than any shadows she’s ever summoned…

Time, Space, even Life and Death seem to have no meaning to her. There’s no Up or Down, no Left or Right, she doesn’t even think she has a body. She’s nothing, no more than an untethered piece of someone who was once called Alina Starkova…

And then the darkness swallows even that.

xXx

“Alina!”

Alina… that’s a name… that’s her name, isn’t it?

“Alina!”

Someone’s calling for her. The voice seems to sound so far away, though it keeps getting closer.

“Alina!!!”

And louder. Whoever’s calling for her is being really intense. They seem to really want to find her? Is she lost? Where is she?

“ALINA!!!”

xXx

Her name is Alina Starkova and she’s a shadow summoner (and sun summoner too, even if no one knows that, not yet… or do they?).

What’s the last thing she can remember…?

She remembers the Little Palace, the First Army…? No, that was in another life! She can remember that now too.

In this life she was found by the examiners when she was eight-years old. She grew up at the Little Palace, with many other Grisha.

She had a theory that Grisha could be so much stronger than they thought… and she proved it right!

She made a plan for Grisha to help otkazat’sya. If Non-Grisha came to see them as helpful, as good, then they wouldn’t turn on them ever again… right?

General Kirigan rejected her original plan, twice, but eventually agreed to a simplified version of it. She was made leader of her own team, and they’ve taken several trips since.

He’s not just General Kirigan anymore. He’s Aleksandr, and she loves him, more than she did in another life. And he loves her, she knows, even if he hasn’t said it yet, she knows. She’s not doubting him this time!

Their last trip was to the South. They visited Keramzin, and Caryeva, and so many other places. They helped a great many people, Ravkans, and even got to help defend against a Shu attack!

She keeps having Dreams. Marvelous and at times terrifying dreams that feel so very real sometimes.

She remembers…

But that’s not all, is it?

What happened next?

Why can’t she remember?

xXx

It’s so strange, feeling like no time is passing, and at the same time, it is.

She’s pretty sure she’s unconscious, but why? What happened to her? … to them? Where is her team?!

From one moment to the next she remembers their return to Os Alta.

The Alexandr in her dreams hadn’t wanted her to return so soon, not with the scheming Tsar and Apparat working together as they were. But it couldn’t be avoided forever. She managed to delay their return for several days, insisting that they help a Suli caravan they came across and then some other travelers. But eventually there were no more excuses to delay them.

They hadn’t even been at the Little Palace a full day when she was summoned to the Grand Palace, to a meeting with Tsar Vasily, the Apparat and several of the highest ranking nobles. What they told her she’d known already (even if she wasn’t too clear as to how… dreams aren’t real, are they?): they wanted her to marry Vasily…

It wasn’t that the Tsar was attracted to her, not at all. She could still see the disdain in his eyes when he looked at her. He, much like his mother, saw her as less for both her Shu ancestry and her status as a Grisha. She thinks he might even be afraid of her, if only a little, of her shadows…

And even with all that, the Apparat insisted that she was the best possible option. Tsaritsa Kalyna had never been exactly popular with the people of Ravka (apparently it wasn’t just Grisha she saw as less). Ravka is falling to pieces, between the conflicts north and south, and the rebellion going on West, they need the throne to be strong. They need the people to not just respect the crown, but love them. And it is no secret that the people, the peasants especially, love Alina…

Narodnaya Printsessa… That’s what the people call her. That’s why the Apparat wants her for Vasily’s bride. The creepy old-man probably hopes that Ravka’s love for her will extend to the Tsar (Alina somehow doubts it, but still).

She requested time to think about it, claiming that it was such a great honor, she didn’t feel worthy. It was a lie, of course, and she was pretty sure the Apparat knew, but he still acted all magnanimous, stating she could take the time to ‘prepare herself’ for her future… as if it were already a given!

Her thoughts, and the memories, are cut abruptly as she loses awareness yet again.

xXx

“Alina…? You have to wake up, please wake up!”

Genya! That’s Genya. She’s there! Why is she there? And where is there, exactly?!

More memories hit her then.

She remembers Genya waiting for her after the meeting with the Apparat, wanting to know why she’d been summoned exactly. She’d been as furious as could be expected (unsurprising, considering what she herself went through at the hands of Vasily’s father…). The two got to planning immediately, trying to find a way to get her out of that mess without risking things for all Grisha.

The best idea they had was… she couldn’t marry the Tsar if she was already with someone else, right? The fact that Aleksandr wasn’t there, but still busy in Kribirsk made things harder but not impossible. They got to the point where Alina had seriously considered falsifying a betrothal agreement between the two of them (making fake documents had once been a specialty of hers, and even if in her current life she’d never needed that particular talent, that doesn’t mean she couldn’t do it).

They never did get the chance to make the attempt, though.

The news came the following morning. Fjerda had attacked Chernast with a force like none seen before in all the years the conflict had been ongoing. It was a massacre. The few survivors pulled back, trying to make it to Ulensk, to mount a defense before the Fjerdans made it any further south. General Kirigan had marched with the very best of his Grisha to provide backup.

They hadn’t heard from him since. Though according to some survivors, Ulensk was no more.

Alina’s first instinct had been, of course, to get on her horse and ride north right away. Only to find the palace gates barred! They’d only be opened once she agreed to marry Vasily.

So, she did, of course she did. She signed a contract where she vowed to marry the Tsar and become Tsaritsa of Ravka.

Then she jumped on her horse and rode north as fast as she could.

xXx

“Wake up already Alina, there’s work to do, you need to stop pushing your responsibilities onto us!”

Zoya, dear Zoya, acting bitchy to hide her worry.

“You already said you’d be no saint, so you don’t get to be a martyr either!”

Zoya was there too, wasn’t she?

Zoya, Genya and Sergei all followed her, and as many Grisha as could be called upon in a matter of minutes (which were actually more than Alina would have imagined). They rode hard north, barely stopping to rest. The only stop that lasted more than an hour or two was the one they made at Ryevost, where supplies were waiting for them (a message having reached them that they were coming), in Adena they found new horses, as well as a platoon of First Army Soldiers ready to march with them. And… Mishka was there, one of the soldiers in the First Army. Little Mishka… except he’s not so little anymore is he?

It was insane! They didn’t even know where they were going (other than it was in Ulensk’s direction), not even how far out the enemy might be, or their numbers (though judging by the destruction and deaths they were said to have caused thus far, there was no doubt their numbers had to be great indeed).

That far north, despite it still being autumn, there was already snow on the ground. And not just that, it was snowing at that very moment, big, heavy snowflakes and icy winds making it so Alina and her group didn’t realize what was going on until they were already in the middle of it all. All they could do at that point was join the battle and hope they were ready for it.

They weren’t. Not really.

However one looks at it, a skirmish against Shu invaders in the warm south, is nothing compared to a vicious battle in the freezing north. Especially with the more advanced weapons the Fjerdans seem to possess. And with the way the groups were so mingled already Alina couldn’t risk summoning a Cut.

There’s a lot about the battle itself that Alina doesn’t remember, that she probably never will. She remembers seeing Genya running across the battlefield; she’s not a fighter herself, but with her talent for healing, even if limited, she could very well have saved more than a few lives. David and the other Fabrikators were trying very hard to turn the snow and even the very earth beneath their feet against their enemies. She thinks she might have seen Marie fall at one point, blood on her neck; heard Sergei letting out something that sounded eerily like a howl as he worked on stopping as many enemy hearts as he could. Fighting like hell to reach his girlfriend, though it seemed an impossible endeavor. And Zoya… dear Zoya, who seemed to almost take over the blizzard somehow, turning the snowdrops themselves into blades which she used against the enemies with terrifying skill.

Alina used shadows to pull and push and at times even bludgeon her opponents. And even to block and disable their strange machines and weaponry where she could. It didn’t always work, but she never stopped trying. She tried very hard not to look at those who kept falling around her, knowing that if she did she might not be able to keep going. Also, a part of her was terrified she might see Aleksandr’s face in one of the fallen, especially when she thought she might have seen Ivan…

Did they survive? Are they alright? Marie? Sergei? Ivan? Aleksandr…?

xXx

“Milaya…” That’s Aleksandr. “You gave us a hell of a scare, moya lyubov’. Your friends are alright, not uninjured, but recovering. In fact, all who came with you with the exception of a handful of First Army soldiers who bit off more than they could chew, you didn’t lose a single member of your team.”

She didn’t lose anyone, but what about him?

“All the soldiers who were posted in Tsibeya died,” Aleksandr’s voice sounds beyond grim. “The attack was too sudden. Too well planned, their weapons more advanced than they were ready for. There was nothing we could do.”

Alina gasps wordlessly, she thinks she’d cry if she could.

“We lost Chernast entirely,” Aleksandr continues. “Less than two dozen survivors in all. Ulensk fared a bit better, if only because the soldiers who managed to make it there before the attack took place ensured as many civilians as possible were evacuated before the arrival of the Fjerdans. Many of them lost their lives making a stand in the town, ensuring the evacuation wouldn’t be discovered too soon.”

So many dead…

“I, of course, am alive,” Aleksandr continues. “As is Ivan… though it was a close call. Actually, I only lost a handful of my own men, all but one of them oprichniki. Probably going to need to recruit a few more to fill in the ranks. Found a few promising ones among the First Army Soldiers. One of them seems to know you. He’s made sure that the otkazat’sya are all perfectly respectful of us, and they use our preferred titles. It’s still so strange hearing otkazat’sya calling me soverenyi…”

Someone in the First Army who knows Alina? That must be Mishka! She has no doubt about that. And if Aleksandr wants him as an oprichnik… He’ll absolutely love it, though Alina suspects Sonya will not be entirely happy about it. Then again, the boy survived where so many did not, didn’t he? And wait, what Aleksandr said about the losses, about all but one of them being oprichniki, that means they still lost one Grisha, who?!

“Vigdís…” Aleksandr says, as if in answer to her question.

Vigdís… Vigdís is dead?!

It comes to her then, the memory hitting her with the force of a hammer:

There had been a moment, during the battle, when she’d thought they could win, that they actually stood a chance. And then… and then a metal contraption, bigger than any wagon she’s ever seen, seemed to emerge from the snow. It was too strong for Zoya’s winds and ice to stop it, and even her fire when she tried it couldn’t get through. Whoever was controlling it was inside, out of sight (and range) of their heartrenders.

Something came out of it, a shot of some kind, which on contact with the ground caused a terrible explosion. One that sent people: Grisha and otkazat’sya alike, flying.

Alina remembers screaming her throat raw. She remembers trying to pull at the shadows and thinking it would not be enough and then… and then like the flip of a switch, she pulled on the light. Instead? Along with the shadows? She cannot quite remember. She only remembers pulling at her own power like never before, gathering it all together, and then pushing it at the machine with all her strength.

Doesn’t quite remember what happened immediately afterwards either, thinks she might have blacked out for a while there.

She woke up eventually though, and Vigdís was there! She was there, Alina remembers that and… and she was bleeding, heavily. She pulled away from Alina and… had she been healing Alina?! But how? Well yeah, Alina knows how, but Vigdís never attended any of the special lessons, outright refused to have anything to do with her research and experiments even.

“Ha!” she snorted, looking straight at Alina. “I knew there was more to you than shadows! Though I do think the priests got it wrong. You’re not a sun, no, you’re a star, shining bright even through the darkest of night…”

Alina thinks she might have tried to say something, but she doesn’t remember what.

“Promise me you won’t let them make me a saint,” she told Alina.

“Wha…?!” Alina didn’t understand.

“Promise me!” The blonde insisted.

“Ah… p-promise,” the younger woman stated, because what else could she do? “I promise, Vigdís…”

“Astridr,” the silver-blonde haired one murmured, so very, very softly. “My name is Astridr, remember it, please.”

Because no one else would…

She healed them; healed everyone, no matter how small or great their injuries; if they were hurt, she healed them. All who were still alive at that moment. And it cost her her life…

“You need to wake up, for good, already lapushka,” Aleksandr’s voice brings her back to the present. “This whole thing is driving me crazy, and I’m driving everyone else crazy in turn.”

She has no doubt about that, actually. And she too misses Aleksandr so much…

It takes a huge, nearly superhuman effort on her part, but eventually she manages to open her dark eyes, searching for his, and finding him almost immediately, sitting on the edge of her cot.

“S…Sa-sha…” she forces the two syllables past her mostly dry throat.

“Oh Alinochka…” Aleksandr gasps, looking at her with an expression of absolute disbelief. “You’re awake… finally…”

And then, for the first time in front of her, in the real world, he cries.

xXx

Alina knows, from the moment she opens her eyes, that she’s not truly awake. She’s Dreaming, again. She rises from the cot she’s lying on, not even stopping to grab a robe, or a kefta, or even shoes as she crosses the tent and then walks out of it. However, instead of stepping out on the snow… or whatever else (she doesn’t actually know if they’re still near Ulensk or if they might have decided to move while she was still unconscious… for that matter, she doesn’t even know how long she was unconscious!) she finds herself in another tent, one she remembers all too well, much as she might wish she didn’t. Also, from one moment to the next she’s no longer walking, but just standing, and instead of her shift she’s wearing a black dress, her hands cuffed apart… she remembers the moment all too well, even before she raises her head and sees Aleksandr across from her.

“You and me.” He’s speaking, the same words she remembers with almost painful clarity. “You cannot do this on your own. And neither can I.”

“We could’ve had this,” she repeats her own words from back then, verbatim. “All of it. You could’ve made me your equal. Instead, you made me this.” A part of her can still feel the anger, as strongly as she did in that other life; the greater part of her though only feels sad (and a voice in the back of her mind whispers that she felt that back then too, she just chose not to focus on it, believing that she needed to focus on her anger if she was to survive, to triumph against him). “You don’t care who suffers, as long as you win.”

“Fine.” the memory of Aleksandr spits at him. “Make me your villain.”

She takes a step back as she watches him walk away, and it’s like her surroundings blur, just for a minute, sharply enough to leave her with a sensation almost like vertigo. Then everything’s clear once again, and she realizes she’s no longer in a tent, but instead on a sandskiff. Once again, a terrible moment she’ll never be able to forget.

“It’s just you and me now, Alina. And we are all we need, anyway.”

For some reason she cannot understand, there’s nothing she can do to change this Dream, to transform it, not like she has with so many others. Instead, she’s forced to go through it exactly as it happened…

“You may have needed me… but I never needed you,” she doesn’t have any control even over her own body as she acts. “Your first words to me were, ‘What are you?’ This is what I am.”

Her light is so bright, brighter than she remembers it having been back then, bright enough to blind even her, if only for a second. When her sight clears once again she’s still in the same place… mostly. But no longer on a sandskiff, instead she’s standing on the sand, and the Shadow Fold is gone.

That’s when she decides this is not a dream, it’s a nightmare!

“Now… you know sacrifice. Beyond anything you’ve ever known. And look what it did.”

“Indeed. Look what it did. Mal and I changed the world. We tore down your Shadow Fold.”

“You have my sympathies for what comes next, when you realize that what you’ve done solves nothing. The world doesn’t need a Saint to protect it. It needs a monster. And while I remain… Let me be your monster.”

“You think that after everything, I’d still stand by you?”

“There is no light without darkness. Without me, you have no counter, no balance. Let me carry the hatred of this world.”

“Hatred. Because of the choices you made.”

“Choices you too will make… in time.”

“I will never walk your path.”

“I know you believe that now. But soon… Soon you will have no equal. The years spent alone will grind you down, they will harden you. And who will be there to shield you from it? Who will be there to save you?”

“I will save myself. Your legacy is already written. There is no redemption.”

She can do naught but retread old steps. As the nichevo’ya turn on her and that version of Aleksandr cannot do anything to stop them.

“You can’t control them, can you? You can’t control any of it.”

“I thought I could control it all, once. Find peace. And for a moment, I swear I did.”

He doesn’t really admit to any failure, which doesn’t surprise her.

And then… much as she doesn’t want it, from one moment to the next, the knife is in her hand and she’s burying it in his chest… if she could, Alina thinks she’d cry, she’d scream. She does neither. Just staring at him as life slips from him.

“Without me, know they will come for you.” He warns her, worried for her to the end.

“Let them come.”

Oh, if only she’d known. Back then she thought she knew everything, that she was ready for anything that might come to pass… she had no idea.

Alina awakens with a gasp, tears streaming down her face even as she presses a fist against her chest. She’s tried so hard, for so long, to not think about such things, about what happened back then. And now… now it’s all come back and all she can do is cry…

She might have spent hours crying, but suddenly someone’s bursting into her tent. No, not someone, Aleksandr. He looks disheveled, eyes wild, and he’s staring straight at her.

“What the hell was that?” he demands.

For a moment she wonders what he means and then she feels it: the confusion, the shock, the horror, all emotions not her own. And what’s more, she feels the invisible string that binds the two of them together. A tether…

“Oh…” she breathes out, as realization hits her.

That wasn’t a dream.

They never were.

xXx

It takes some time for Alina to settle down enough to be able to have a serious conversation with Aleksandr. A plan that is derailed, twice, first by Genya insisting on Alina taking a bath and dressing in clean clothes, that it’ll help her feel better (which is true enough), and then by Fedyor wanting to talk to Aleksandr, as he’s the one coordinating for their return to the Little Palace and he wanted to discuss a few points with the General.

They finally manage to meet back up in the tent, with some lunch delivered by Zoya herself.

“About time you got up, you…”

Alina cuts off Zoya’s tirade before she can really get into it by going and hugging the older Grisha tight. Zoya, surprisingly enough, reacts by hugging Alina back just as tightly. Just for a moment, before… not quite pushing Alina away, but pulling back herself. Taking a moment to look Alina up and down, as if to make sure she’s truly okay. Alina doesn’t even complain, she just stands there, smiling at one of her oldest friends.

“You better not scare us like that again,” Zoya snaps at the younger girl. “You hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Alina replies with a small smile.

Aleksandr returns to the tent right as Zoya’s leaving. For the first quarter of an hour or so neither of them say a word, busying themselves with eating. It’s until the lunch is gone that they truly turn to look at each other.

“You didn’t know the dreams we were having were more than dreams,” is the first thing Aleksandr says. He doesn’t wait for an answer, as it’s not truly a question. “Neither did I.”

“I just… I thought it was just my mind, making up scenarios.” Alina tries to explain. “That I was dreaming how things might have been if I had only been smarter, more confident… if I had trusted you, me, the both of us…”

“You said you time-traveled, that was real?” This time he is truly asking a question, though he’s already pretty convinced of the answer.

“Yeah,” she nods solemnly.

“I didn’t know time-travel was real.”

“Neither did I. And well… It’s either that or I dreamed a whole life two nights before the examiners visited Keramzin, when I was eight years old.” She shakes her head. “I think it was time-travel, though. Even if that wasn’t actually the intent…”

“The intent… wait, what were you doing when…” He trails off, clearly not knowing how to even finish that particular question.

“You… you do realize you were dead, right? I… I…” she swallows, not able to bring herself to say it. “After that, I went back to Os Alta with Nikolai.”

“Nikolai…?” Aleksandr cuts her off. “Nikolai Lantsov?!”

“I was engaged to him. As part of a deal we made…”

“Like your current deal with Vasily Lantsov, you mean?”

Alina swallows, she didn’t expect Aleksandr to be aware of that already, doesn’t remember if that was something she shared with him in any Dream… She doesn’t think so.

“Sometimes sacrifices must be made, by all of us, for our people…” she makes a pause and then adds. “All of our peoples.”

“Oh Alinochka…”

Eventually they get back to the topic of conversation. Alina tells Aleksandr about what happened after the destruction of the Fold (and his death, but she cannot say the words). She tells him about the changes they made to Grisha, Nikolai’s coronation, and when she used the Cut to save Nikolai and his guests… the very first time that shadows rather than light answered her summons. And then everything that came after that. Starting with the way everyone seemed to slowly but surely pull away from her, and ending with the Starless Order and their ritual…

“It was supposed to bring you back…” she gasps as she finishes. “And instead…”

“Instead it sent you back…” Aleksandr finishes for her.

For a moment he seems to just be contemplating everything, and then he speaks up:

“Maybe it did work, in a way,” he suggests, to her surprise. “Think about it, Alinochka. If the ritual had truly worked as the Order expected, what would they have brought back? A monster who’d already tried to destroy all of Ravka once? One that would be nigh unstoppable without you to stop him. This way… this way things have turned out so differently.”

They have indeed. It’s not that Aleksandr has changed. She doesn’t think he has, not really. He’s pretty much the man he was when she first met him, in that other lifetime. The difference is that the two of them haven’t gone through the terrible experiences that broke him, that broke the two of them so thoroughly. And hopefully that’ll never happen in this world.

“Promise me, lapushka,” It’s Aleksandr’s voice that eventually pulls her out of her own mind.

“What…?” Alina blinks, what did she miss?

“Never again,” he stated. “Promise me that you won’t do that ever again.”

“I… I promise!” she cries out immediately. “Of course I promise. Oh Sasha… how could you think I’d ever… I could never hurt you… not again!”

“No!” he snaps, to her surprise. “That’s not what I mean.” he lets out a sigh. “I mean your life Alinochka. Your life is much, much too precious to be thrown away like that!”

“It was not…”

“You couldn’t have known if that crazy ritual would work, if it would do anything at all. You could have died for nothing!”

“Aleksandr…”

“You cannot do something like that again, Alina. Promise me. Promise me you will never do something so crazy again.”

“I cannot promise that,” she admits quietly.

But he’s not truly listening to her, as he goes on:

“And… and… if I ever go mad again. If I ever… if I ever hurt you, hurt any of our people, you must promise that you will stop me. Even if… even if that means that you must kill me. You must do it. Promise…”

“No!” Alina almost shrieks at that. “No, I will not promise that. I’d never do something like that. Don’t you understand, Aleksandr? Doing it once already… It shattered me! I… I wasn’t going to survive for long, not without you. And it has nothing to do with our powers, or anything else like that. It’s us, it’s our hearts, our souls… I couldn’t live without you. And you cannot make me!”

“Alinochka…”

“Together Sasha, or not at all.”

“Together then, forever.”

“Forever.”

A kiss seals their promise. A kiss that turns into two, then three, then more…

At one point Aleksandr picks Alina up, carrying her not to the cot where she’s been sleeping (or rather, been unconscious), but rather to the pile of furs and cushions where it’s clear Aleksandr has been resting (whenever he could bring himself to leave her side, at least). It’s not the most comfortable or luxurious bedding ever, but well… they’ve both slept in worse, and at that moment all they really care is that they’re together. They can easily handle a little less comfort than they’re used to.

No words are exchanged as clothes are shed, until they’re completely bare. Curiously, despite the snow and icy winds outside the tent and the cold that manages to slip inside, all they can truly feel is the heat between them.

Unlike in another life, Aleksandr doesn’t ask Alina if she’s sure. By this point in time, after they’ve known each other so long, been slowly but surely building their relationship, he knows her, they know each other, well enough to have no doubts, not of themselves, or the other. Alina might have made a commitment to another, to a Tsar, but Aleksandr knows she was forced into it. Forced, so she could go in his aid… And in the end, they’re Grisha, and what’s more, they’re eternal, beyond the demands of mere otkazat’sya, even a so-called King.

The decision is made in a fraction of a second, less than that even. He doesn’t have to really think about it. It’s just so obvious at that moment, so natural… the words start spilling from his lips almost before he’s even fully aware of it:

“We are soldiers, I will march with you in times of war. I will rest with you in times of peace. I will forever be the weapon in your hand, the fighter at your side, the friend who awaits your return.” His voice, so proud and strong, turns quieter, softer, almost reverent, as he reaches the final part of the vow. “I have seen your face in the making at the heart of the world and there is no one more beloved, Alina Starkova, beautiful and brave and unbreakable.”

Alina’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. She’s never been to a Grisha wedding; all she knows about it is what Genya told her, back in the other world, when she was hoping David would propose sometime soon. Because of how they’re seen by so many otkazat’sya (or at least, how they used to be seen, things are changing, getting better), Grisha weddings have never been exactly legal, even in Ravka. Not like they’ve ever cared. Grisha have still made their own traditions. Though since Ravka won’t recognize them, they’ve decided that their weddings don’t need to be big affairs. They can be very intimate, even private. Needing no witness but the bride and groom. A Grisha stands by their vows, always.

Alina might one day have to pronounce a very different set of vows, in a very public ceremony, tying herself to a man whom she neither cares for, nor respects. And she’ll do it, out of duty, not just to Ravka as a whole, but to Grisha. Who knows? Perhaps if otkazat’sya can accept a Grisha like her marrying the Tsar, seeing their union as legal; they could also accept Grisha to wed whoever else they choose to, whether that’s another Grisha, or an otkazat’sya.

And even if she does have to marry Vasily, it’s not like it’ll last forever. Whether it’s a few years or a few decades, sooner or later he’ll be gone, and she’ll still be there, unchanged. Aleksandr likewise will still be there, and they’ll be together, to the end of time.

Alina kisses her beloved soundly and then, with great pride and a smile so bright on her face she thinks some actual light might be slipping through the cracks, she echoes the vows:

“We are soldiers, I will march with you in times of war. I will rest with you in times of peace. I will forever be the weapon in your hand, the fighter at your side, the friend who awaits your return. I have seen your face in the making at the heart of the world and there is no one more beloved, Aleksandr Kirigan, Aleksandr Morozova, gorgeous and brave and unbreakable.”

Having said their vows, all that’s left is the consummation, and that’s something the both of them take great pleasure in, all night long…

 

Chapter X. Commitment

They’re in Adena (the town received them with open arms, very welcoming, grateful that with their actions they ensured the rest of Ravka would be safe from the Fjerdan armies), taking a well-deserved rest. They’ve already done the funerary rites for Vigdís, the oprichniki and even the First Army soldiers whose bodies they were able to recover. Most injured have recovered by now; it’s only those with broken bones, or those who lost so much blood it’s a miracle they survived, who’re still recovering. That’s when they get the messages.

It’s… a bit of a mess, by the dating of several of the messages it’s clear they’re old, also, they cannot get the full story from them; meaning that either the person who sent them does not know everything, or more than one message was lost on the way (which is possible, especially since at least two of the messages were sent to them in Ulensk… which also explains how they’re so late, the messengers had to find them).

The messages are addressed to either Aleksandr, Genya or a couple of them to Alina. And all together create a story none of them would have ever expected:

Apparently letters were found, some sent to Dowager Tsaritsa Tatiana and at least one written by her; the Fjerdans were thanking her for the information and promising that all ‘witches’ would soon burn, while Tatiana’s sought to confirm that her son would be keeping the throne. To which, the last message she’d received was apparently a discreet reminder of ‘old indiscretions’ she wouldn’t want to be made public, lest she ‘lose it all’.

Alina and Aleksandr are pretty sure that the last point is alluding to the fact that the former Tsaritsa’s second son isn’t truly a Lantsov, but a bastard. It’s perhaps the outright treason that truly surprises them, though Alina isn’t actually sure why, it was always clear that Tatiana had no love for Ravka…

Perhaps the message that surprises them both most is the one concerning a huge argument between Vasily and his mother that at least half of the staff at the Grand Palace overheard. Since most of them don’t actually speak Fjerdan they had no way of knowing what was being argued exactly, but it was clear that the Tsar was truly angry at his lady mother, and might have even threatened her in some way.

Alina wonders if he was truly that angry about his mother’s actions, considering that in the other timeline he was very much working with the Fjerdans himself; though that attempt at treason ended with his and his parents’ deaths. Or, she supposes it’s possible that his anger might be caused by how Tatiana went about doing things, especially if Vasily wasn’t informed beforehand.

There’s another message from the Grand Palace, a more recent one (one that arrived for Genya, rather than Aleksandr or Alina), letting them know that there was an accident. The Tsar had been riding alone. No one knew what happened exactly, after some time with him being missing, soldiers were sent looking for him. He was eventually found, unconscious on a grassy field. It was believed that his horse must have been spooked (perhaps a snake?) and he fell, hitting his head on a rock or something. He was taken back to the palace but hadn’t woken yet.

Alina receives a priority message from the Apparat, recalling her to Os Alta, stating she has a duty to Ravka and the throne…

The last message on the pile is different from all the others as it comes from Nisho, a squaller, and the man Aleksandr left in charge in Kribirsk when he made his way north. Apparently there’s a group, the Crows, who arrived at the camp with a message for General Kirigan of the Second Army. The leader of the group, Kaz Brekker, has stated that he’ll give the message to the Second Army General, and no one other than him.

“So… what do you want to do?” Aleksandr asks her after they’ve gone through all the messages.

“What do you mean what I want to do?” Alina scoffs. “We’re going to Kribirsk!”

“I thought you were being summoned…” Aleksandr points out.

“The Apparat can do whatever the hell he wants,” Alina hisses. “I don’t answer to him. Also, I don’t know why he even wants me there. Vasily will recover, or he won’t, and my presence or absence will make no difference whatsoever. I’m not a healer!”

No, she’s not, but it’s well known that she always travels with her team. So perhaps the Apparat expects that it won’t be only her returning, but all of her team, including Genya and Sergei. Also, there’s no doubt that the Apparat would love to take the opportunity to create a narrative of Alina as a dutiful, compassionate lady, sitting vigil by her betrothed’s bed.

Though of course, Alina doesn’t plan on giving him the chance.

“We have a duty to our people,” Alina adds for good measure.

“To Kribirsk, then,” Aleksandr confirms.

xXx

In Kribirsk Aleksandr turns down the offer for food, bath or even some rest, wanting to deal with matters as soon as they can. So he, Alina, Ivan and Zoya are led to a tent near the edge of camp, Fedyor, Genya, David and Sergei going with the other Grisha who traveled with them to the Second Army section of the military camp.

Alina cannot help but have complicated feelings regarding the Crows. She owes them a lot, they were a great aid to her; and while she has no doubt that Kaz (or at least that Kaz) would have said that it was all business (while Inej would have said something about her beliefs and called Alina, Sankta…); in the end they didn’t owe her anything, and took great risks while helping her. At the same time, they also once accepted a deal to kidnap her, and while things might not have gone exactly as planned, they were still the reason the Conductor made it into the Little Palace, that he got to Marie…

Then again, this is a different world, isn’t it? These aren’t the same Crows, they haven’t done anything against her, or any of her people (Marie is alive, and she’ll stay that way!).

“So…?” Aleksandr asks as he walks into the tent, completely at ease. “What is the message?”

“The current leader of the First Army from West Ravka would like to request a meeting with whoever is leader of the First Army in East Ravka as well as, and most importantly, the Second Army General, Pyotr Kirigan,” Kaz explains.

“Leader of the First Army…?” Zoya parrots in a mocking tone. “Why the hell would we want to meet with that fucking traitor Zlatan?”

“Excuse me, my lady, but General Zlatan no longer serves as leader of the First Army in West Ravka,” Inej points out calmly.

“What…?” That definitely throws all the Grisha.

“Why not?” Ivan blurts out.

“Because he’s dead,” Kaz informs him.

So, apparently Zlatan finally went against the wrong person and got killed for it.

The official version of events is that, while Zlatan had certainly had a good number of supporters, especially among the high ranks, and foreigners, the majority of the actual soldiers did not, in fact, agree with him. Whether that’s true or not remains up for debate, what is known for certain is that, unknown to Zlatan, a lieutenant started working in the shadows, gathered support, and when the opportunity presented itself, he led a coup against Zlatan and his biggest supporters. While Zlatan was killed in the confrontation, as were at least a good few of the high-ranks supporting him, the lieutenant and his own men did manage to take a few of them prisoner.

And it doesn’t end there, the lieutenant then led his men after the foreigners Zlatan had been turning a blind eye to as they killed and kidnapped Ravkan citizens. Just like during the coup, some of these criminals ended up dead, but a few are still alive and awaiting trial.

“Sounds a bit too convenient, doesn’t it?” Aleksandr asks.

“Huh?” The statement confuses most, though not Alina.

“It’s a good thing, but that doesn’t mean there has to be an ulterior motive,” Alina points out.

She truly believes that, and it’s not just her optimism talking. Truth is, that whatever Aleksandr might think, they don’t exist in a bubble. They’re not the only ones that can affect change. What’s more, Zlatan wasn’t a risk only to him, to their people. So many more were affected by him, by his actions, his decisions. Truth be told, it doesn’t really surprise Alina to learn someone turned against him.

Inej eventually tells them of the rumors she heard before her team crossed the Fold. Apparently the lieutenant is a married man, about a year or so. According to the whispers, he and his wife (a Suli girl who’s an artist) love each other very much. She’s pregnant with their first child. Also, she seems to be Grisha, an alkemi, to be precise. So weak (or well hidden) that she was never found… at least not until the Conductor somehow learned of her status and arranged for a drüskelle to ‘pick her up’. They weren’t counting on her husband being with her, or on him having no compunction about killing whoever he had to, to protect her.

They probably also didn’t count on it not ending there. On the lieutenant deciding that his wife wouldn’t be safe as long as Zlatan remained in power…

“Who is this man?” Aleksandr asks, because he just needs to know. “What is his name?”

He doesn’t fully believe the story they’re being told, but at the same time he cannot help but be fascinated by the idea that someone, that an otkazat’sya, might love their Grisha spouse so much they’d be willing to wage a war for them…

“Stepanov,” Kaz tells them. “Lieutenant Alexei Stepanov.”

xXx

Aleksandr finds his beloved (his wife!) standing near the edge of the Second Army camp, very close to the drydocks. She’s just standing there, staring at the shadow fold as if it somehow held all the answers, or any answers at all…

He need not say a word, as the moment he gets close enough Alina shifts, just a bit, just enough to press her back against his chest, settling into his embrace easily. Truth is, she sensed him from the moment he got close. He also doesn’t need to ask any questions, he knows her well enough; so he just waits until his beloved is ready to speak:

“I knew Alexei,” she murmurs in a very soft voice, eventually. “Or perhaps I should say I knew ‘an’ Alexei, in the other world.”

She tells him the story then. About the Alexei Stepanov who was an Assistant Cartographer, just like her. Though he was two years older than her. And as he’d joined the First Army at sixteen, he’d already been in the army for four years by the time she joined. A sergeant, he was the second highest rank in their unit, though he never acted like it. He was always so kind, so friendly. He was her best friend…

“He could have gotten a discharge, you know?” she tells him. “He’d done his five years. And he was from a good family. Not nobles, but not poor either. He could have walked away… Instead he signed a new contract.”

“Why?” Aleksandr asks, curious.

“For me,” Alina whispers, quietly. “He… he said he was going to use the money from his new contract to pay for a doctor, for me. He thought that maybe, even if all the army medics said there was nothing they could do for me, that maybe if I went to an actual doctor they might be able to do something. But doctors are expensive, and of course I didn’t have the money for one…” she trails off. “A month later, we were on that sandskiff…”

“Did he die in the crossing?” Aleksandr asks, knowing already how wrong that crossing went.

“I, I thought he’d died that day, you know?” she tells him. “For the longest time I thought… When things first went wrong he pulled me down, to hide. But when one of the volcra caught Mal… I went to help him and I just… I forgot about Alexei. I never saw him again.”

“What happened?” Because Aleksandr doesn’t understand, did the man die or not in the Fold?

“He got across the Fold, on foot,” Alina informs him.

Aleksandr’s mouth almost drops at that. Which actually makes Alina giggle; even if she cannot see his expression, she can sense his surprise, thanks to their tether (she’s fully aware of it now, all the time).

“According to what I was told later on by… by the Crows actually, he was found by a man, from Kerch, I think… I never knew his name,” Alina continues. “He got a heartrender to interrogate Alexei, to ask him about…” She trails off.

“About you,” Aleksandr finishes for her. “Because that’s when your abilities manifested, as the Sun Summoner… and Alexei knew your identity…”

“I know he’d have never given me away, had it been his choice,” Alina states, confident.

Surprisingly enough, Aleksandr believes her. Even though he’s never met this man, this Alexei Stepanov. If he was truly such a good friend to Alina, was willing to sign a second contract with the First Army, just to get the money to help her… and even in another world, one where he never knew her, he fell in love with a Grisha and fought a war (small as some might consider it) for her, to make her and her people safe…

For the first time ever Aleksandr wonders if perhaps his beloved’s dream of coexistence might not be so impossible after all.

“Oh,” Alina adds a moment later. “And I like Astridr’s name for me much better, you know?”

“And what name is that?” he asks her, curious.

“Star summoner…” Alina says with a bright smile (and just a hint of starlight in her eyes…).

xXx

The meeting with Lieutenant Stepanov (he’s not her Alexei, and Alina knows she must accept that) goes much better than anyone could have hoped for. The man is young, no more than 23-24, but he’s still serious, hardworking and while he’s well aware of how complicated a mess he threw himself into the moment he chose to turn on Zlatan, he makes it very clear he never so much as considered backing down from that course of action.

“It wasn’t just about Andrea, though I’ll admit she was the reason I first thought such actions were necessary,” Alexei admits. “She would have never been safe as long as Zlatan remained in power, as long as he kept allowing Ravka’s enemies to do as they wished, simply because their actions did not affect him. It wasn’t even just Grisha. I know several non-Grisha girls were kidnapped and sold to brothels in Kerch. And boys were taken for indentures too. And those who weren’t taken… some had it much worse…”

Aleksandr doesn’t doubt it. And as much as he might have initially been surprised that an otkazat’sya would be the one to stand up and put a stop to it all, in the end he cannot but be grateful for it.

“Your country thanks you for your service, Kapitan Stepanov,” Aleksandr declares as they’re about to take their leave.

Alexei, and pretty much everyone else, does a double-take at that, but then they’re all smiling, and cheering Stepanov for his promotion.

Aleksandr decides he won’t just install the boy as the new First Army General. He’s much too young, still, and not experienced enough for such a rank. But at the same time, he’s proven himself in a most complicated situation. Somehow, Aleksandr doesn’t doubt that the young man will prove himself deserving of the rank soon enough. And who knows? Maybe with someone like him in charge of the First Army things will finally start getting better for them…

xXx

They end up staying in West Ravka for several days, giving Zoya a chance to spend time with her family (her aunt and adopted cousin). Genya and the others take the time to do some sightseeing in NovoKribirsk, and even lend a helping hand here and there. Though it’s made obvious very quickly that things on West Ravka aren’t like they’re in the East.

“It’s hard to tell if it has something to do with all the… well, all the riches that can be found on this side of the Fold,” Genya tells everyone one night as they gather to eat dinner and talk. “Or with all the ‘undiscovered Grisha’ living among the otkazat’sya.”

That almost makes Aleksandr sputter. As much as he knows that it’s always been harder to send examiners across the Fold to test children in West Ravka, he didn’t expect something like that. Then again, even East of the Fold, they’ve been finding a few Grisha who either by accident or on purpose managed to be missed by the examiners, so…

Finally the day comes when they’re set to return. They’re going back on the same sandskiff they arrived in. One much smaller than the ones usually used to transport goods across the Fold. Small enough that, with her level of power Zoya could get them through the Fold in half the time it’d have taken with even the Ultralight. Alina asks her not to, and Zoya trusts her enough to acquiesce, even without a full explanation for the younger woman.

“You asked Zoya to go slow,” Aleksandr comments once he joins Alina at the front of the skiff.

“I have a theory,” she comments; then, in what seems like a non-sequitur she adds. “You know, I truly believe you can summon light too.”

“What…?” Aleksandr’s completely thrown by that statement. “Where do you even get that idea?”

“The shadows I summon,” Alina answers honestly.

Aleksandr just blinks, still not getting it. She realizes then that while he has seen quite a few of her memories, whether as they happened, or changed, there are some things he might not fully realize.

“I was not originally a shadow summoner,” she clarifies. “I told you, the first time I summoned shadows was after… after you were gone.”

“So you said,” he nods. “The Order believed that they were my shadows, that either you took them, or I gave them to you after… after.”

“Yeah, I… I liked to believe that you wanted to keep me safe.”

“I would have.” Aleksandr hurries to assure her. “I… I’m not that man, that monster, and I hope I’ll never be him…”

“No!” She doesn’t want him to see himself that way! “Aleksandr you aren’t…”

“But…!” He cuts her off. “But I know if he loved you even a fraction of how much I love you, he’d have wanted to protect you, forever, no matter what…”

It’s the first time he’s said he loves her, in so many words, and that fact is enough to throw Alina off, at least for a moment. Until the sandskiff moving reminds her she had a purpose with that conversation.

“While a part of me will always be partial to that idea, I know better now,” she admits. “I realized it during my research. That the Small Science isn’t quite as… strict, as limited, as we Grisha might have once believed. You’ve seen it. Zoya might be the greatest success thus far, but she’s far from the only one. There’s David, who’s both a durast and an alkemi. Ivan and Fedyor are both heartrenders and healers (even if not to the same degree), and so many others.” She takes a deep breath. “You and I… we’re different, of course. I used to believe we were like the Etherealki. We summon an element, after all. And I suppose I was so fixated on… on ‘belonging’ back then, that it was easy to believe that, and not look deeper at things.”

“But you’re different now…”

“I am, because now I know I belong, I know exactly who I am. And who you are…”

“And who are we then?”

“Etherealki, Corporalki, Materialki… we’re beyond all of that. Because Light, just like Darkness, is beyond such classifications. We can be considered Etherealki, yes, because we can summon our elements, just like inferni summon fire, and tidemakers work with water… But just like that, we can also shape those same elements, and use them to shape the world around us, much like Materialki do. I’m not sure just yet if anything that we do could compare to the abilities of the Corporalki, but we have time yet to figure that out. My point is, we need to see ourselves, our powers, as a whole different order, separate from those three.”

“Alright,” it’s clear he has no problem accepting that.

“At the same time, both Light and Darkness are a single order. Two sides of the same coin, if you will.”

“You’re my balance,”

“I am, as you’re mine. But I think that’s just because we’re… well, us. It has nothing to do with our powers. Not really.”

“Alina…”

“No, think about it, Aleksandr. If you, you as a shadow summoner, truly needed a sun summoner for balance, one would have existed a long time ago. You needed balance, yes, but not because of your power. You needed it, deserved it, just like anyone does.”

“You’re talking about soulmates.”

“I am. I do believe you’re mine, as I’m yours.”

“But then if you’re not meant to be my balance in power…” he gets it suddenly and takes a step back, shaking his head.

“I told you, I do believe you can summon light, same as I do.” Alina confirms. “I honestly believe that the only difference between you and I is which element came to us first. And the fact that, up until now you’ve convinced yourself that being able to summon one means not being able to call on the other. Then again, until recently squallers didn’t think they could be tidemakers too, did they? Or perhaps more to the point, healers and heartrenders…”

It’s a very good example actually, even better than the Etherealki. Because heartrender and healer skills were basically opposites; until Alina’s research and subsequent experiments most would have never believed someone could use both skills (at least no one who’d learned about Grisha orders beforehand; they were the box, like Astridr once said).

Aleksandr still looks doubtful, but as they cross the border and find themselves inside the Fold proper, Alina knows the time for talk is over. So she gives him the time to think things over as she gets to work. Giving a step forward, she takes a deep breath before calling on the light. She keeps it small, as bright as a lamp, the light more silver-white than the bright golden-yellow she was well-known for in another life. Feeding power into it until it’s a decent size, and until she’s sure it’ll continue to exist, even without her, then she raises her hands and pushes it up, letting go of it.

The ball of light remains floating in the air, like a lamp… or a star.

Alina takes a moment to just breathe, gather her strength, then she starts all over again. And so she continues as they make their way across the Fold, creating star-lamps and placing them as evenly as she can on the road.

As her companions soon realize, the star-lamps aren’t just pretty lights, there’s something about them, either the kind of light (or perhaps that they were created by her) that keeps the volcra away. They have no way of knowing how long they might last, but as long as they do, crossings should be much safer than they used to be (and once they vanish she can just create them all over again!).

They’re several markers in when Aleksandr takes a step forward, placing his hands under Alina’s own. She can feel a hint of his amplifier power reaching to her light; she lets it, but doesn’t really draw on it. She doesn’t need it.

It’s something else Alina’s come to realize. In the other life she needed Morozova’s amplifiers to be on the same level of power as Aleksandr, but in this one she doesn’t. Just like he came to be as powerful (as terrifying) as he can be all on his own, she always had the same potential. All she was lacking was time… and motivation. In her current life she’s had both. She doesn’t need Morozova’s amplifiers this time around.

So she lets Aleksandr get a feel for her power, for what she’s doing as she creates her star-lamps, but doesn’t really draw on him as she does.

And then… They’re halfway through when she can feel Aleksandr taking a deep breath of his own before he calls on his power. His first attempt at a lamp doesn’t really work, more shadow than light in it, and he dismisses it with a flick of his wrist before it’s even fully formed. But after a couple of attempts (and watching her do a few more of them) he gets it right. And he pushes the first star-lamp of his own to float alongside hers.

(Neither of them see it, but behind them their friends… their family are staring at them with a mix of awe, love and so much pride… They know, in that moment more than ever before, that Ravka’s future has never been brighter…).

The two of them are so focused on creating the lamps, that neither of them really notice they’ve reached the edge of the Fold until they’re out and the sun hits them full on. Still, the lamps are different enough from the actual sunlight for everyone looking in their direction from Kribirsk, and the military camp, to notice it, and them.

Everyone breaks into cheers, some actually calling loudly to them, thanking the Saints (at least no one is trying to call them saints… Alina has managed to do a well enough job with making people stop trying to make ‘living saints’).

And Aleksandr… he just looks around, at the way everyone cheers and thanks him, them, and… He feels a sense of satisfaction, a pride, like never before. Not when he was first granted the Tulsa Valley by Anastas, not when he first created the Fold, not even when he built the Little Palace and the Second Army and he allowed himself to believe his people might finally have a safe home. It’s… he’s more at peace in that moment than he’s ever been before.

He turns to look at Alina, who’s already looking at him, smiling. And he doesn’t need to say a word, for she already knows everything that he might wish to say, can feel it through the tether binding them as surely as he can feel her.

At that moment, everything’s absolutely perfect.

xXx

There are messages waiting for them in Aleksandr’s tent.

The first is notifying them of the death of Tatiana Lantsov. Officially she jumped out of her window, on the east tower of the Grand Palace. Unofficially, few people seem to buy that version of events; most servants appear to be convinced that the former Tsaritsa must have been pushed out the window. Why? By whom? No one seems to know for certain.

Though there’s a possibility that the second message might explain at least some of it: Vasily’s dead. There’s no apparent sign of foul-play in his death. He simply never woke up after his fall off the horse. The Apparat even managed to convince Pavel and Polina, the inferni twins that were the highest ranked Grisha left in the Little Palace with so many either in the north, the southern border, or Kribirsk, to send healers to try and help the Tsar. There was nothing they could do.

A third message announces the discovery of a number of letters found in Tatiana Lantsov’s quarters, which not only give more details about her treason against Ravka, working with Fjerda; but also her affair with Magnus Opjer, a Fjerdan shipping magnate. They also reveal that it is this man, and not Pyotr Lantsov, that fathered the former Tsaritsa’s second son: Nikolai… Which at least explains why there are no messages about Nikolai being named the new Tsar.

The second to last message is addressed to Genya, a warning from one of her servant friends: the Apparat has apparently been spinning some stories, claiming that it was the Grisha that killed the Tsar, rather than any fall. That the healers, instead of trying to help him, murdered him in his bed.

The last message is verbal, rather than physical, delivered by Polina herself:

“We’ve barred all the doors, moi soverenyi,” Polina informs him. “The nyanyas are with the Grishenka in the safe rooms underneath the nursery, while everyone else hid in the palace itself. We knew someone needed to warn you about the situation in Os Alta and I volunteered so… here I am.”

“Thank you Polina, you’ve done well,” Aleksandr nods at her.

At a sign from him, Fedyor leads the inferni out of the tent, to where she might be able to eat something and rest.

“So, what do we do now?” Zoya asks the question in everyone’s minds.

The answer isn’t exactly a surprise, who says it, is:

“Now we go get our home back,” Alina states in a no-nonsense voice.

“Okay,” Genya agrees. “What’s the plan?”

Alina gets a wild idea, and when she shares it with everyone else… The consensus from her friends when she explains it is that it’s so crazy it just might work.

xXx

The Grisha enter Os Alta together in perfect formation. They’re a considerable number, having left only those needed for the daily crossings and to keep guard back in Kribirsk (with Zlatan gone and the star-lamps in place they don’t expect there to be any trouble). Aleksandr and Alina are at the front of the group. Thanks to Genya’s aid, they’re wearing mirror outfits: he in his usual pitch-black kefta, except now with silver embroidery and a lining of the same color; while Alina is wearing a silvery-toned kefta with obsidian embroidery and lining. Even their horses seem to fit the image they seek to portray, with Alina on her white mare and Aleksandr on his black stallion.

They manage to make it all the way to the palace which, unsurprisingly, is where they find the Apparat, trying to stir the people present into a frenzy with a speech about all Grisha being sinners and faithless and undeserving of the mercy of the Saints.

Aleksandr is clearly angered by his words and makes to say something about it when his wife touches his arm, helping him calm down.

They have a plan, however, before they can go ahead with it, something completely unexpected (something they could have never planned) happens:

“Liar!” The voice comes from somewhere in the mob.

It takes a few seconds but eventually the speaker emerges from the mob on the left side of the palace. It’s Mishka! In his First Army Uniform. He must have returned to the capital from Adena at some point while Alina and the others were dealing with things in Kribirsk and Novo-Kribirsk. And it doesn’t end there.

“You’re a liar!” Mishka states, loudly. “Grisha are good! And kind! They’ve helped us! More than you, or the Tsar, any of the Tsars, ever did!”

“Traitor!” the Apparat accuses the boy. “Speaking like that is treason boy! Treason against your Tsar!”

“There is no Tsar! They’re all dead!” Mishka spits. “And what you’re doing, that is true treason, treason against all of Ravka!!!”

As if his words were a cue, or a challenge of some kind, that seems to set off a lot of other people as they all begin speaking (or more like yelling) over one another.

The Apparat keeps trying to take control of things, to turn the people against the Grisha, but he fails. In the end it turns out the Grisha have helped so many people, they won’t be used against their saviors.

Then, from one moment to the next, it’s all over. The Apparat falls, with a knife through his neck (they will never know who threw it).

For a few minutes, as the yelling goes on, it seems like things will turn into a real mess, with no one to aim the mob, no ‘enemy’ for everyone to gather against and then…

Alina raises a hand, and light comes pouring out of her fingers; at her side, Aleksandr does the same, using shadows. It’s not a lot, they keep careful control of their power, not wanting to overwhelm the people. But once they have everyone’s attention, they stop, just for a second, before they switch, and Alina starts shaping shadows, while Aleksandr twists light to do his bidding.

It’s still not easy for him. Though Alina’s convinced it’s not power he lacks, but rather that he’s spent so many years convinced that he only has command over shadows, it’s not easy to unlearn something like that, to accept that the light is his, a part of him, as much as the shadows are.

At first, there’s only silence, awe as the people watch the show of light and dark as it’s commanded by the two Grisha before them. And then, as they switch the element they’re each manipulating… it’s as if that were a sign of some kind and people start cheering.

It’s almost like what happened when they emerged from the Shadow Fold and to the drydocks of Kribirsk. And at the same time so much greater. Also like there, there’s clapping, cheering, people calling their power a miracle, some are praying to the saints (thankfully, yet again no one is trying to call them saints), though they soon notice two other forms of address that are being used…

“Ten’ Korol!”

“Zvezda Koroleva!”

Ten’ Korol… Zvezda Koroleva…

Shadow/Dark King… Star Queen…

Would you look at that? And Aleksandr didn’t even have to be the one to suggest it!

By sunrise the following morning, Ravka has a new King and Queen…

 

Epilogue.

The biggest lesson Alina ever learned in her first life was how dangerous it is to be considered a Sankta by the people. To be seen as ‘too extraordinary to be real’. Like her friend once said: ‘Saints become martyrs before they get to be heroes’. So she decided that, in her new life, she’d never let people call her a Saint. Nor any of her friends.

From the beginning the Sun Summoner was a figure more of myth than reality. A prophesied savior that pretty much everyone saw as more goddess than human. And so Alina decided that she would never give anyone a reason to think she might be summoning the sun… That one was harder to achieve than the former, for she still needed her light, Ravka still needed her light. So she chose to keep things small. Nothing too big, too noticeable, too… unreal.

It worked, from the moment Alina Starkova made it out of the Shadow Fold, with a sphere of silvery-white light in her hands, the people began calling her a star summoner.

(In due time, as it became clear that not only could she still summon shadows as easily as she did the light of the stars, and moreover, that General Kirigan could summon both as well, some, especially the other Grisha, started referring to them as Night Summoners…).

Alina wouldn’t say she ever planned on being a Queen. Though it is true enough that she knew from the start the Lantsovs were no good for Ravka, not even Nikolai; which meant someone else would have to take the throne. She supposes she always expected it’d be Aleksandr who would take the crown and, if Alina was lucky; if she was very fortunate as to have her Aleksandr still love her after learning the truth about her, about her past, then perhaps she’d one day be his Queen Consort.

Instead, upon their return to Os Alta, and following the Apparat’s final, desperate attempt to grab power for himself, it is Alina whom the people call to become Queen.

“It’s only logical, narodnaya printsessa,” her beloved whispers in her ear.

The reminder of the name the people, peasants throughout Eastern Ravka, have chosen to call her, does make the choice an obvious one. Still, she refuses to do it alone.

“Together, or not at all,” she reminds her beloved.

And thus Alina and Aleksandr become the new Queen and King of Ravka.

Their ascension goes uncontested. While Aleksandr keeps an ear out and all his spies on alert in case Nikolai Lantsov makes any attempt to contest things, it never happens.

“I suppose he always did like being Sturmhond more than he did being Nikolai,” Alina murmurs, more to herself than to her husband.

Aleksandr cannot say he’s entirely happy, leaving a potential ‘rival’ out there, but he supposes that as long as the boy doesn’t try anything, he’s willing to let it go.

And Nikolai really is the last Lantsov (even if he’s only one by name), all the other ones (first, and second and even third cousins) are dead, courtesy of none other than the deceased Dowager Tsaritsa Tatiana Lantsov. Apparently the woman realized early on that her eldest wouldn’t last long as Tsar, as either his choices or some enemy would take him away from the throne sooner or later, and to ensure that no one would try to contest her youngest’s rights, she decided to take any possible competition out. Of course, she probably never imagined that her son’s bastardy would be revealed, that she herself would die (a matter that still hasn’t been entirely resolved, and probably never will be, as no one really cares for the details), nor everything that’s happened since.

The people absolutely love the new monarchs. Even those in West Ravka, who haven’t been helped by Alina and her team the way those in East Ravka were. Though the general belief is that that is thanks both to the fact that they were in pretty good condition already (thanks in no small part to the Grisha living among them) and well… no one really liked the Lantsovs, so there’s that too.

Even those remaining extremists who supported the idea of independence for West Ravka, they see the ascension of a new Queen and King as something good, something that might (hopefully) end up being as good, if not better, than seceding from Ravka entirely.

There is still a Shadow Fold, but it’s no longer the near-insurmountable obstacle it used to be. The star-lamps have changed things entirely.

The Starpath, is what the people call it. The power of the lamps is good enough that crossings start taking place every day, at least one in each direction a day.

“Aren’t those a lot of crossings?” Sergei asks when hearing about that. “I mean, aren’t they too many crossings, too often? Considering that there used to be only one a week… at most.”

“True,” David nods. “But see, those crossings, they loaded pretty much everything they could onto the skiffs every time. As much weight as they could carry. Which of course made them heavier, harder to propel, and to maneuver,” there’s a reason they used to need multiple squallers. “Which of course made the trips even riskier. Heavier, the skiff had to move at lower than optimum speeds, also, if an attack happened… well, the losses could be huge, not just in lives but also in materials and money.” He shakes his head. “Now, well things are safer, but also, now there’s no need to overload the skiffs. That makes the trips easier to handle, which in turn makes them even safer.”

“Business is also growing,” Fedyor points out. “According to the statements I’ve been going through. Since the merchants no longer need to worry they might lose a cargo at any moment, they can send through more merchandise. Since they’re no longer losing either people or cargo in the crossings, that means they’re also making more money. And the buyers are responding in equal measure.”

“We also have more people crossing,” Zoya adds for good measure. “Either to visit family, or on a vacation, or for whatever the reason. It’s… it’s really good actually.”

“Ravka is no longer divided,” Alina concludes with a smile.

It’s the truth. The Fold might still exist. But it no longer truly divides Ravka.

Truth be told, Alina doesn’t know when, if ever, they’ll be ready to take down the Fold. It’s not a matter of power, because she knows, at her core, that she and Aleksandr together have the necessary power to do it… But Alina now understands a lot of things that she didn’t the first time around. She can see now why Aleksandr once told her that the Fold was necessary. And it’s not even just about Grisha only being useful as long as it exists. With the two of them now on the throne they can and will make sure that Grisha are never seen as less ever again.

There’s still the matter of Fjerda and Shu-Han. They haven’t yet decided what they’re going to do about them. Aleksandr insists that they should divide the Fold and then move the two parts to the borders to ensure that enemies won’t be able to cross. They’d still have to keep watch on the sea and the mountains, but it’d still be less danger than the one they deal with at the moment. Ivan and Zoya both support the plan.

Alina isn’t as sure, though she does know they cannot do nothing.

“I’m afraid that doing something like this… how many innocents will we end up hurting, killing?” she asks quietly one of the times they broach the subject. “And this is not a matter of Grisha or non-Grisha. I’m talking about people, all people. Yes, Fjerda and Shu-Han are enemies, but the fact that their rulers hate us; us Ravka, and us Grisha, that they might have convinced in some way at least some of their subjects to hate us, to fear us, to want to kill us… doesn’t mean they all do. I… I’m afraid we might end up doing more ill than good, if we choose to go down this path.”

They end up not coming to a decision that particular day, though they all know that one day they’ll have to. Alina can only pray she won’t be the reason they end up waiting too long and people, the very people she’s trying so hard to protect, die anyway.

A year, almost to the day, since the star-lamps are first created, they begin to dim noticeably. They haven’t vanished yet, but it’s made clear that sooner or later they will. So arrangements are made for Aleksandr and Alina to return to the Fold and create new star-lamps.

Unlike the first time around, they plan the trip carefully. It’s Genya who suggests that they cross on foot rather than on a skiff. The idea is that doing the crossing like that will allow them to do it slower, and hopefully place the star-lamps at a distance such that not only will the skiffs be even safer than they’ve been the past year, but perhaps other modes of transportation will be possible too.

While with the number of trips going up and the trip itself being so much safer, sandskiff tickets are no longer as hugely expensive as they used to be, they aren’t exactly cheap either. There remain many among the peasants who will never be able to afford one. But if they could make it so a trip on foot would be safe… It’s perhaps not ideal, but would certainly open up opportunities.

Aleksandr and Alina agree, and Genya starts working on making it possible. Of course she wants to make a huge production of it. Not just of the fact that the Queen and King of Ravka will be crossing the fold, and creating new star-lamps, but also of the fact that they will be doing it on foot.

By the time the day comes people from all over Ravka have arrived in Kribirsk, some are just there to bear witness to this momentous occasion; others, however, are there to walk through the Fold behind their beloved rulers.

“This is insane,” Alina whispers under her breath in the privacy (or as private as can be) of the royal tent, the day they’re to cross.

“This is a good thing,” Genya points out calmly. “The people love you, they trust you, they want to be a part of what you’re doing for Ravka. Those are good things.”

Aleksandr does think, just like his wife, that it’s all quite insane. But he cannot deny that Genya is right as well. So they proceed. They even make a point of walking side by side, each of them creating and sending up star-lamps in tandem, creating two lines, instead of one, this time. Thus widening the path (it still won’t allow for more than one sandskiff at a time, but several people will be able to cross side by side, even horses and other animals, if people are so inclined.

The trip takes them several hours, yet no one complains. Even those who get so tired they have to take a rest, or who cannot finish the trek and have to turn back. They know they’re safe. They know the path across the Fold is safe as long as the star-lamps continue to shine. The Shadow Fold is no longer the absolute nightmare that it used to be. It’s still an obstacle, but one that can be overcome. Everyone bears witness to the volcra fleeing from the silvery light of the star-lamps and that goes a huge way to dispelling the fear once and for all for many.

After that, it becomes tradition. Once a year Alina and Aleksandr visit Kribirsk and cross the Fold on foot, creating new star-lamps to take the place of the old ones. It even becomes a bit of a festival, for both Kribirsk and NovoKribirsk. People from all over Ravka arriving: merchants selling their wares, artists showing off their work, there’s food and shows and… it reminds Alina in some ways of the Winter Fete. Except in some ways it’s so much better because it’s a festival that the people of Ravka organize, for themselves, and for everyone else in their nation. It’s not about showing off, or trying to prove one is better than the others, it’s about celebrating, about being happy, and sharing that happiness with everyone they can.

And one day the wars against Fjerda and Shu-Han might end. One day there might be no more laboratories, no more drugs, no more machines created for nothing other than to make war and destroy lives… One day the Fold might no longer be needed, in any form, and it may go on to become nothing more than a dark legend from a distant past… One day Ravka might come to be united, all of its people, and grow so used to it that no one will even remember it ever being any other way… But until then, and every day after too, Ravka will have two steadfast guardians in its Star Queen and Shadow King, in its Night Summoners…

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