Work Text
A Beginning Of Sorts
If he had a heart or blood rushing through his veins, I could not tell you. But what I can tell you is of his power. I knew it from the moment we laid eyes on each other, The Darkling was going to change everything, and I would never be the same again.The power he possessed was unlike anything we had ever seen, and it is the unfortunate truth all witches are reminded of whenever we look upon the Fold. Created from the darkest and most forbidden of rituals, the Darkling cleaved Ravka in two with a wall of shadow that can never be unmade. Ravka has endured, as it must. But the constant wars that have plagued the land have left Ravka a mere shadow of the country it used to be. Learned men and scholars would argue that witches were the cause of the war. They would be correct in a sense; the creation of a witch destabilised the country to such a degree that its neighbours declared war. Alas, that is not what they meant. They meant to blame the very existence of witches for the war. What they fail to realise is that witches had been persecuted long before the Darkling created the fold, but Ravka was long considered the safety place for a witch to live. Especially in comparison to its neighbours, Shu Han and Fjerda.Witches in Shu Han are subject to experiments, brutally torn apart by doctors to find the source of their power for their power-hungry rulers. My parents fled Shu Han long before I was born and settled in Ravka. For as much good it did them in the end, it’s a blessing they did not settle in Fjerda. Fjerda. The icy nation of Fjerda has long been considered the most dangerous place for a witch to live thanks to their legion of witch-hunters – Drüskelle- hunt us across land and sea just to see us burn. The Fjerdans believe that witches are an affront to nature and by extension their God Djel. Before the war began their hunts were isolated to the confines of their nation, but now they are hunting witches in other countries like Ketterdam and soon, if they win this war, Ravka.It is a universally accepted truth that war leaves casualties in its wake, and this war is no different. I was five when war reached our small village. I cannot quite recall what happened, but I do know that the coven, our coven died trying to protect Ravka. My parents were among them that night and I was sent to live in a mortal orphanage near Keramzin.The first thing I remember about the orphanage was how dull it was without magic and how much I hated it. I missed the magic, the ritual and the connection of being around a coven. Even if my own magic hadn’t come in yet, I yearned for its presence. But I was stuck among mortals in the monotony of their world. By the time my own magic came in when I was twelve, what should’ve been a joyous occasion only filled me with terror. I was already too different with my Shu eyes and strange connection to nature. Despite that terror I revealed my powers to my only friend – Mal Oretsev.What a mistake that turned out to be. We were hunting together in the darkest parts of the forest when the tiny stream of sunlight coursing through the trees called to me. I felt its warmth in my bones and returned the call, transforming the trickle of light into little glowing orbs that danced around us. I remember feeling so proud and looking over at Mal. The joy I felt turned to iron in my stomach as I saw the terror and hatred in is warm brown eyes. It was too much for me to bear. I had wanted my only friend to see me, all of me, and love me as I was. But he was always just a mortal and like all mortals he was afraid of everything he did not understand. As mortals are wont to be. So I forced my magic down deep inside of me where it could never see the light it desperately craved.The effort it took to suppress my magic came with a price. Suppressing the thing I loved most about my family and heritage to make myself something mal could love, or at the very least tolerate, sapped my strength, my health and left me frail. A ghost of myself. The rich colour of my dark brown hair became dull and slightly grey, and the warmth left my skin. I guess that’s the price you pay for betraying yourself.The saddest part is that it worked. I lived the life of a mortal with Mal, for a time anyway. When we turned eighteen we enlisted in the First Army – the mortal army that protects Ravka. Mal joined as a tracker and I joined as a map maker. I was surprisingly good at it, the magic coursing through my veins allowed me to see what the mortal map makers couldn’t. The land revealed its secrets to me, and I dutifully marked them down leading me to promotion after promotion while Mal stayed at the same rank in our three years of service. The more I was promoted the more I could see the resentment take over his gaze. So, I slowly made my maps less accurate, less detailed. Making myself small again to please him. It worked and he was happy again which made me happy.I didn’t really care about the maps anyway, map making was by no means my passion. It was a necessity that allowed me to have a semblance of a home with Mal. I could not let it ruin the delicate balance we had achieved. I could have been happy with the First Army but I guess we will never find out. Magic it seems is like a boiling pot, if you clamp the lid on for too long it will come flying off when you least expect it and at the worst time possible. And that is exactly what happened.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The Summons
A summons from the King is not to be ignored or taken lightly, especially when the war is shrinking Ravka’s borders by the day. The three regiments closest to the border were called before the King, apparently, he’d decided after decades on the throne drowning himself in wine and courtiers, that he was interested in ending the war.
That was the rumour anyway, no one knew what he wanted or what he was looking for. The summons was short – Come to the Grand Palace to meet the King.And so we came. After three weeks of marching, we set up camp in Os Alta. The camp looked almost identical to every camp I’d ever known apart from the Grand Palace and Little Palace looming in the background. They were the most magnificent thing I’d ever seen even from afar. Everything about them screamed wealth and power. A steady stream of officers was flowing through the Grand Palace to meet with the King. There was no discernible pattern to the regiments that were called, which left us very little to do other than wait.In classic army fashion the regiments found their own forms of entertainment most of which revolved around alcohol. On the second day when the fifth regiment was called up to meet the King my regiment decided to hold a boxing match. The crowds began to gather, and the list of contenders grew by the day. By the fourth day I decided to watch. Mal was stumbling drunk and defending his position near the top of the leaderboard. I was surprised at how well he was doing for someone who had drank nothing but vodka for three and a half days. Word of his victories had spread past the First Army camps and into the Grand Palace with servants and noblemen alike coming to watch the fights. It was almost heartwarming seeing them carousing with the very soldiers protecting their way of life. A reminder that maybe we weren’t so different after all.When dusk set on the fourth day I noticed a white and gold cloak weaving through the crowd of soldiers, the wearer stopped to watch the fight with their hood covering their face. Stayed for half the match and then left. The next morning it appeared that word of the boxing match had reached the Little Palace. Witches were now among the crowd, their richly coloured cloaks of purple, blue and red standing out against the beige of the First Army fatigues like jewels. I couldn’t help but wonder who the figure in gold and white was and whether they had spread the news through the Little Palace. At the end of the day how they heard about the fights was immaterial. What really mattered is that they were here and that I was unsettled. The practiced equilibrium I had achieved in the nine years since my powers bloomed was under threat and my magic was getting harder to supress. I could feel it prickling just under the surface, itching to be released. Screaming for the sunlight. It made me jumpy and more than a little paranoid. If Mal noticed my unease he didn’t show it, he was too busy trying to maintain the steady level of drunkenness he’d achieved since we set up camp. “You don’t get it ‘Lina, ss how I’m gunna win” He’d slurred at me, nursing the bottle of vodka like it was the most precious thing in the world. There seemed to be some wisdom in his words – for a while anyway - he’d won all his fights leading him to the semi-finals where he was set to fight a captain from the tenth.The captain was built like a house, tall and wide with no discernible neck. It came as no surprise – to me anyway- when Mal lost. Mal’s steady level of drunkenness apparently wasn’t as steady as he’d claimed as he’d stumbled right into the captain’s fist as it was arcing its way towards his jaw. Knocking him out cold. Mikhael – a friend of Mal’s- and I slung him over our shoulders and began leading him to the makeshift medical tent. Mal was a dead weight, heavy and unyielding, and I was weak from the effort it took to supress my magic. The medical tent felt like it was miles away, when in reality it couldn’t have been more than 500 metres. As we approached the tent, dragging Mal along with us, I noticed a tall witch in a scarlet red cloak engrossed in conversation with an even taller blond man who appeared to be wearing royal livery but in black. I’d only looked for a second when she turned to face me. It was as if she could feel my eyes upon her. She looked at me with her beautiful green eyes and I could swear she looked into my soul. Maybe she did because I saw a flicker of something like recognition. We’d never met before but somehow, she must have recognised something within me. Magic.I looked away suddenly and focused on getting Mal to the makeshift medical tent. He was grumbling something about prize money. But I had bigger things to worry about.
I looked over my shoulder again and they were both gone. Not good. “Did you see where they went?” I whispered to Mikhael. He looked at me briefly, a look of confusion clouding his face “Who?” we handed Mal to a medic and Mikhael turned to leave “I thought I recognised someone, that’s all. It doesn’t matter.” But it did matter. Mal awoke shortly after Mikhael left but the medic recommended he stay to sleep off the alcohol. I stayed by his side for a while, thinking over my options. There was only one option. I had to run. Obviously, I couldn’t bring Mal with me in his current condition, but I couldn’t sit and wait for someone else to realise what I am. The medical tent was bustling with medics and patients, most of whom were either drunk or casualties of the boxing match. It didn’t take much effort for me to sneak out unnoticed. The sun was beginning to set as I left the tent, glorious streaks of orange and pink illuminated the sky behind the palaces. But I could not stop to admire it, I had a plan and I had to execute it.The journey back to my tent was easy. I had managed to dodge everyone I knew and avoid contact with any witches. Thankfully the First Army regulations require everyone to keep their living quarters tidy, so I’d found my pack and stuffed it with everything I needed in record time. The only thing I needed was food. But the risk of being seen was too high if I went to the mess. Desertion was a treasonous offense. If someone spotted me, I was as good as dead. I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves. I could find food on the way. On the way to where? That was the question. Maybe Ketterdam? But that would require going through the Fold. Too risky. Everyone who has ever gone through the fold has been documented. And most of those documents are death certificates. I didn’t have time to figure out where I’d go specifically. All I knew is that I needed to get as far away from the Little Palace and the First Army as possible and I had to do it now.I waited until the sounds outside my tent had died down, a sure sign that my regiment was at the mess for their evening meal. I couldn’t remember how to get out of the camp city that had been created. But I knew that the exit was close to the Grand Palace. From there I could find my way. I just had to stay hidden. I crept past countless beige tents, hiding in the shadows when I heard soldiers. Strangely the witches were no longer present, even when I edged closer to the makeshift fighting ring. The anticipation and anxiety made my hands and face numb. I could feel my magic itching just under the surface of my skin once again. Whispering its sweet song, pleading for freedom. I could see the Grand Palace growing with every turn I had taken. Freedom was so close. I could almost taste it.
“Hey, you!” I heard a mans voice yell. I turned around and a soldier was two steps away from me. The smell of vodka emanating from him like fog. His breath was no better. Acrid and Bitter. From beneath his garrison I could tell that his hair was a shade of sandy blond common among Ravkan’s and his hazel eyes could not quite line up due to the amount of vodka he’d consumed. That didn’t stop them from roaming hungrily over my body. “Deserting are we?” He continued as he walks toward me his eyes glassy and wet “you know that’s a treasonous offense don’t you?” I nod mutely. My body seemed to have lost the ability to form words. Despite my muteness my magic continued to scream beneath my skin, echoing through my bones and into my fingertips. Suddenly the drunken solider lunged toward me with his hands outstretched, his mouth moved like he was going to form a word, maybe a yell, and my desperate grip on my magic slipped. Everything was golden. The soldier’s garrison hat was aflame.He screamed and his hands left my body but my magic was still flowing. I turn around wildly like a cornered animal as more soldiers came to his aid. Among the sea of beige there was a solitary black cloak rushing toward me. To his left was the blond man in black and to his right was the tall witch in crimson. With a wave of his hand the cloaked man covered the world in darkness, drowning out the world and the golden light emanating from me. His gloved hand touched my arm and the shadows dropped. I looked up and into his slate grey eyes. The eyes of the Darkling.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The Audience
Rumours about this Darkling had been swirling for years since he stepped out of the ether claiming to be a descendant of the Darkling that created a fold and pleading for the opportunity to atone for the sins of his ancestor.
No one could verify his claims, the original darkling had been dead for generations. But there was no mistaking the power this man holds, even the mortal King could see it. He allowed the Darkling to take the moniker of his ancestor and create a coven of witches to protect Ravka – the Second Army. Their goal, according to the King, was to aid the First Army and allow the Darkling to unmake the Fold.Regardless of who this man was I knew two things as soon as I saw him. The first – he’s not someone to be trifled with. The second – I had never seen a man so beautiful. His dark black hair perfectly framed a face so perfectly sculpted it looked as if a statue of a saint had come to life. His steel grey eyes hold a quiet depth and mystery as he observes me with keen interest. As he stood before me in the tent city of the First Army, he commanded attention with a quiet magnetism that I should have found unnerving and definitely unnerved the officers who had come to aid their comrade. I could not tell you how long we stood there but the longer he examined me the more I felt like an oddity you’d find in the Grand Palace. With each passing second, I wished for nothing more than the Fold to appear right before me and consume me whole.The Darkling looked away suddenly and addressed the witch in red “Nina, bring her to the little palace, I’ll be along shortly” She nods and walks towards me with a reassuring smile on her face. I have no idea what she saw when she looked at me, but it warranted a gentle squeeze on the arm. Somehow as soon as she touched me I relaxed. I no longer felt the fear that had been nipping at my heels since I had first seen her. “Come with me, love” she crooned gently as she linked her arm with mine.
I looked over to the Darkling who was in deep discussion with the tall man in black, he appeared to be an assistant of some kind. I didn’t have the opportunity to think any more about it as the woman, Nina, started moving me away from the crowd. “Where are we going?” I asked her, I could feel my heartrate begin to pick up, but it slowed just as soon as I noticed it and the feeling of calmness washed over me again. “Just to the Little Palace, Darling” She rubs my arm comfortingly and I couldn’t remember why I was so afraid of this woman or of the Little Palace. “The Darkling will take care of everything, don’t you worry” She continued, and I felt my heart jump just a little at his name, for a reason I couldn’t quite name, but it left a little smile on the Nina’s face. The rest of our walk was spent in companiable silence.Whoever named the Little Palace obviously had a twisted sense of humour. There was nothing small about the palace. Its looming stone towers were an intimidating show of power. The gargoyles above each window only added to this impression. Around the perimeter of the building was a circle made of a white crystalline substance flecked with grey and green. I made a mental note to ask Nina about it later.The courtyard was deserted as we walked through towards two large wooden doors with a knocker on each. In the centre of the knocker was a symbol, an eclipsing sun. Nina raised her hand to knock it three times. Upon the third knock the door opened, revealing an entryway made of marble with two corridors leading from either side and a winding staircase directly in front of us. There were candles on each wall held in ornate sconces that allowed them to create beautiful shadows that danced along the high ceilings and created stories on the walls. They were hypnotic. As I watched them, I wished I could touch them and let them dance through my fingers. “This way” Nina murmured gently nudging me to towards the winding staircase. With each step on the staircase and the further I got from those shadows the more I felt like myself. I turned to Nina, the dim light only accentuating her beauty and casting shadows upon her cheekbones. “What was that? I asked her, she never missed a step as she answered casually “Just a trick of the Darkling’s, the shadows are his” the small smile playing on her mouth yet again.We continued up the staircase to another corridor. This one was as richly decorated as the previous ones, another display of power. There's a scent that seems to permeate the Little Palace. It’s smoky and acrid but familiar all the same. “What’s that smell?” I ask Nina “What do you feel when you smell it?” She responds. Her response was puzzling but it made me think “I’m not sure.. It kind of reminds me of being a child, it feels like home?” I look over at her and she’s smiling outright now. It’s a beautiful sight. Her eyes crinkle slightly at the edges and a warmth seems to take over face, like the sun coming out after a storm. “That’s because it is home. You’re smelling magic” Nina bumped me playfully with her shoulder “Come on it’s not too far now.” She led me through two more corridors until we reached a pair of huge black doors. Somehow, I know who this room belongs to. The Darkling. No one else would have as much black. Well other than the tall blond man. Nina opened the door without knocking and gestured for me to follow her into the room. Bookshelves filled to the brim lined the walls only breaking to allow room for a beautiful round window. In the centre of the room there was a table covered in a map of Ravka and topped with little figurines. Intrigued I moved toward the table to examine the figurines but just before I could reach them the door opened. The tall man in black enters and goes straight to Nina, ignoring my presence. Nina seems pleased to see him, a softness taking over her beautiful features. Despite her height this man was significantly taller and needed to bend down to whisper her a message. Nina leaned into him her face turned upward towards his like a sunflower toward the sun. Her delicate hand bracing against his large bicep. The large man appeared to melt slightly toward her in response like a magnet, his face hidden by hers as he whispered a message in her ear, the tips of his own tinged a delicate pink.
He pulled back slightly revealing his profile. A strong nose, sharp jawline and icy blue eyes. He had an almost tender look on his face. Nina nodded twice looking deeply into his eyes her hand never leaving his arm. The big man’s cheeks were pink as he turned to leave, a mischievous smile playing on Nina’s lips as she watched him leave. I felt like I had intruded on a private moment, the tenderness in their gazes left me with an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.Nina turns to me still smiling “The Darkling will be back momentarily” I nod, and she gestures her head toward the table where I was standing “You probably shouldn’t touch those, he’s very particular about how they are arranged.” I take a step back and resign myself to looking out the window. The window had an almost perfect view of the Grand Palace and their gardens. I could also see the entirety of the tent city that had been my home for almost a week. I briefly wondered whether Mal had woken up and if he knew what had happened. Would he worry if I never returned? Would he cry over the sudden absence of his oldest friend? I quickly banished the thought. Despite what I wanted to be true I knew that Mal would care more about whether he still had any prize money after his loss rather than whether I was in one piece.After an indeterminate length of time the door opened again, this time the Darkling entered the room like the very shadows he commands. He nodded toward Nina who left the room, turning to give me a reassuring smile before she left. The Darkling stood at the opposite side of the room, an imposing figure in black. Like an angel or a statue of a saint.
“Do you talk?” He asks softly, for some reason the quality of his voice surprises me, its deep and warm almost like honey in the summertime. A different voice to the Darkling I saw in the tent city. And for the second time today my voice fails me, getting lost somewhere between my chest and my throat. I swallow, the feeling akin to gravel and broken glass, a raspy “Yes” manages to leave my lips a stark contrast to the Darkling’s voice.
He nods. The movement forcing his hair into his eyes. My stomach flips at the sight. He makes no move to brush the hair from his eyes, instead his focus is entirely on me “What is your name?” He asks as he moves gracefully around the table slowly, like someone approaching a deer they don’t wish to run off in fear. His movements are hypnotic like a force of nature unto itself. I swallow again “Alina. Alina Starkova.” He smiles and my heart clenches in my chest. He looked younger when he smiled, less burdened but no less powerful. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Starkova.” The darkling moved closer to me stopping an arm’s reach away, I could feel the power rippling off of him in waves. Surprisingly he didn’t smell of magic he smelled like the forest, clean and woody. The smile slowly dropped from his face as he looked as me “What are you hiding Miss Starkova?” The fear that had somehow vanished since I met Nina returned in full force climbing up my spine with its icy claws. “I’m not hiding anything” I whispered weakly, looking up into the Darkling’s grey eyes for something, anything to alleviate the fear slowly taking over my body. But there was none to be found, a pitying smile taking residence on his face. It didn’t look out of place. “We both know that’s not true Miss Starkova” He says as he removes one of his sheepskin gloves. He moved closer to me with a searching look in his eyes “this will only hurt if you let it” He murmured in a gravelly almost tender voice. Before I ask what he meant, his ungloved hand settles on my forearm. And I feel it. A call that must be answered from deep within me. Warm and bright like the sun. Like home. I breathe in letting the feeling wash over me. A bright light surrounded me and the Darkling and the more I surrendered to the blissful feeling of the call the brighter the room became. Engulfed in a warm golden glow I look up at the Darkling who was looking down at me in awe. The grey of his eyes transformed into a warm golden brown in the light, the intensity I felt within me mirrored within their molten pools.The Darkling hastily removes his hand from my arm and the golden glow stops, my power was once again gone and out of reach once more. I wanted nothing more than for him to touch me again, I craved his touch and was suddenly bereft without it. We stand there looking into each other’s eyes. Slate grey to dark brown. “I’ve been waiting a long time for you” He breathes reaching out to cup my face with his gloved hand. I melt like candlewax beneath his touch, the softness of his gloves prevents his skin from touching mine. Despite the barrier I could feel the magic whispering to me, but I could not answer its call.His thumb gently traced my cheekbone, and I sighed melting further into his touch. His eyes widened and he clears his throat. He slowly removed his hand with an indiscernible look in his eyes. My traitorous heart whispering that it was reluctance. “It’s late, you need to sleep” The Darkling says as he stepped away from me, breaking the spell between us and walking toward the door. “A room has been prepared for you. Nina will show you the way” He turns and gives me a small nod before slipping into the shadows.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The First Day
As the moon began to reach its apex, the world was engulfed in a silvery glow. This glow streamed gently into the large room that Nina had brought me too. It was as opulent as the rest of the Little Palace, with a large four poster bed adorned with black and old curtains and a matching bedspread. On the side tables there was a large chunk of an opaque crystal. I picked it up, bringing it to the large window to examine it better. As the crystal moved an iridescent sheen appeared, like rainbows were trapped beneath its surface. I stood there at the window as the moon continued her nightly journey across the sky caressing her domain with her silvery hands.There was a weariness in my bones, I couldn’t decide whether it was solely because of the events of the day, or the natural effect of using my magic after spending the better part of a decade suppressing it. In the end it didn’t matter, sleep came for me quickly. I fell asleep on top of the ornate bedspread and into a deep dreamless sleep.I awoke the next morning to the warm glow of the sun streaming through the window and an average sized witch in a cream and gold cloak pottering around the room. Her height was the only thing average about her, she had long perfectly waved auburn hair and perfect porcelain skin. She turned to face me, as if realising I was awake. Her face was so perfect I almost thought I was dreaming. “Good morning Miss Starkova, I’m Genya Safin” she said smiling at me and crouching down to my eye level. “The Darkling sent me to help you get ready” I sat up bleary and confused “Get ready for what?” I croaked my throat dry from sleep. Genya stood up and clapped her hands twice, the bedroom door opened, and two servants entered holding a giant copper tub “To meet the coven of course” she said nodding to the servants as they started filling the tub with steaming water. When the tub was half full Genya waved her hand over the steaming water and it started rising to meet her. She removed her hand as it reached a few inches below the lip of the tub. She then moved to a box to her left, I didn’t remember it being there last night. Genya must have brought it with her. She started rummaging in the box, examining one vial then the next. Looking at me then the vial and replacing it. I had no idea what she was doing but was content to watch in silence. Content with her choices – a squat orange vial filled with an iridescent purple liquid, a long narrow green vial with a fancy shaped topper, filled with a bubbling green potion and a clear round jar filled with a liquid that seemed to be split in two – a clear liquid on the bottom and a viscous pink liquid on top – she moved to the tub and started adding them to the steaming water. The contents of the round jar was shaken and then unceremoniously dumped into the bath. Followed by about a third of the orange vial and half of the green.Genya waved her hand over the tub and the liquid glowed, moving with her hand to mix itself into a faintly purple concoction. Seemingly pleased with her result she reached for three sachets within her cloak. She reached into the first taking a handful of rosemary and sprinkling it over the bath. She followed this with a large handful of salt from the next sachet and three slices of dried orange from the third. Genya nodded at her perfumed creation and looked up at me “Come on, in you get.” I must have looked scandalised because she laughed, a clear and beautiful sound like a bell “This isn’t just for fun Miss Starkova” She wrinkles her nose and gestures to the beige First Army fatigues I’d been wearing since yesterday morning “You need to get out of those hideous clothes and have a bath.”
I looked down my crumpled clothes a tangible reminder of the life that was slipping through my fingers with every second I spent in the Little Palace. I hadn’t showered since yesterday morning and boy did it show. She walks towards the door, her gold and cream cloak billowing with her skirts “I’ll be back for you in an hour, and I expect you’ll be bathed and dressed by then.” She stops with her hand on the door “We haven’t figured out your colour yet so those will have to do” gesturing to a pile of clothes on the table with her head, she gives me a reassuring smile and leaves.
With a sigh I began to remove my uniform with numb fingers. Each piece of clothing seeming to add a weight to my soul when it was removed. After what felt like an eternity my clothes sat in a pile by my feet, and I gingerly entered the glowing water. I sighed as I sunk down into the tub, it was the best feeling I’d had in years. The baths in the orphanage were quick and utilitarian affairs every other day in tepid water and the First Army wasn’t much better. But this bath surpassed the very concept of bathing, the water was the perfect temperature and the steam was delicately scented by the herbs and potions Genya added. It smelled divine.
With each passing moment I could feel the knots leave my body and the stress I’d held for years slowly dissolving into the glowing water. Lazily lifting my arm out of the water, I watched it drop from my fingers back into the bath. My skin appeared healthier than it had in years, glowing with power and soft like satin.
I stayed in the bath for as long as I dared. Genya would be back soon and expected me to be dressed. Who knows what she or the Darkling for that matter had planned for me. Reluctantly I step out of the bath and search for a towel, thankfully Genya had left one on the side by the clothes. Its soft, softer than anything I’d felt before. Reverently I wrapped it around me and perched on the side of the bed. Everything was so overwhelming, just 12 hours ago I was planning to run away from the First Army and now? I wasn’t a prisoner in the Little Palace per se, I doubted they would treat prisoners this kindly. I was something else. I wasn’t Alina Starkova, First Army cartographer anymore. I was Alina Starkova, witch. But maybe I was her all along. The thought left me uncomfortable, and I shook my head to sent it away. Instead focusing on the pile of clothes to my left. A cotton blouse, long woollen skirt, a corset-like bodice contraption I’d seen on Nina and Genya. Where theirs were Blood Red with black embroidery and cream with gold embroidery respectively, the one I held in my hands was a rich blue without embroidery. The bodice was partnered with a cloak of the same rich blue. I vaguely remembered Genya saying something about my colours. It seemed they had chosen them, and they were blue.
Just as I began to worry about underclothes, they slipped out from underneath the blouse. Thankful for Genya’s tact I slipped them on and started dressing for the day. The blouse was easy enough to figure out. It had a wide neck and no buttons to worry about. The skirt was again, easy but the way it wrapped around the body took a moment’s thought. But the corset? The hardest of them all with the line of intricate fastenings on the back. I nearly dislocated my shoulder fastening them, but I succeeded just there was as knock at the door.“Come in” I called, sitting down on the bed in triumph. Genya popped her head round the corner of the door and nodded approvingly when she saw that I was ready. “Good” She walked towards me with a pair of boots in her hands examining me with keen eyes “Blue looks so much better on you than beige Miss Starkova.” For some reason, coming from her it felt like the highest of praise. I smiled at her “Thank you, you really should call me Alina.” Genya tilted her head to the side prettily “Then you shall call me Genya” handing me the boots. They were heavier than I anticipated and made of good quality stiff leather. I laced them up and they fit perfectly, the little heel adding maybe an inch to my height.“Excellent, now you’re ready” Genya announced, turning back to the door. I run a hand hastily through my hair to smooth it down and follow her “Where are we going?” I asked. “We’re not going straight to the coven, there are some questions you need to answer first” My stomach flipped at the thought sending a bolt of nausea through my body. “It won’t be that bad” She assured me as she squeezed my hand. Genya started leading me back through the hallways. They looked so different in the day; the hypnotic shadows didn’t dance on the walls and the halls themselves didn’t seem so imposing. The smell of magic remained, a reminder of what happens within these walls. As we walked, I tried to remember every detail from the decorative moulding at the top of each wall that looked like plants to the paintings on the walls.After a few corridors Genya breaks the silence “Ask me anything you want, and I’ll answer what I can.” I look at her out the corner of my eye, even sidelong she seemed perfect. “Where are you from?” I ask her, waiting to see her reaction. I didn’t expect her to answer such a personal question, but she turned to me with a sad smile that made her look like a painting of a martyred saint. Beatific and devastating all the same. “I can’t really remember where I’m from” She leads us down a set of winding stairs I don’t recognise “I know the war was beginning to reach the town where I lived and my coven...” She heaves a deep sigh that makes her delicate shoulders rise and fall suddenly “They sent me here, to the Little Palace, to the Darkling, to that I would be safe. So that some part of them would live on.” Sympathy makes my heart ache and throat constrict as we reach the bottom of the stairs “How old were you?” I ask her. Genya’s golden-amber eyes glisten in the sunlight “I was three.” My chest aches, I would say that I couldn’t imagine losing everything at a tender age, but I could. I did. Genya smiles and shakes her head at me “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me.” At last, we reach a familiar hallway, and we stop. Genya turned to me a delicate hand on my arm “My story isn’t unique among witches, but I’ve had a better life than most, the Darkling takes good care of us” She inclines her head down the hall “Go to the big black doors and knock, they’re expecting you” She gives my arm a gentle squeeze and leaves me in the hallway.I stand there, nerves overtaking me once again. Why wasn’t I scared before? Why had I forgotten to be? My knee’s trembled as I walked slowly towards the black doors. It was slightly ajar, and I could hear a conversation as I approached. “.. And where would they strike next?” A voice I identified as the Darkling’s asks. It’s silent for a second before another strongly accented voice answers “They’ll follow rumours of witchcraft...” I creep closer to the door to hear better, my curiosity getting the better of me. The voice stops as I get closer, the door opening to reveal a man in a red cloak leaning lazily against the door “I thought I heard another heartbeat” he looks me up and down and smiles “You must be Alina” he moves out the way slightly to I can enter the room. It’s the same as it was last night but much busier. There’s another man in a red cloak leaning against the bookshelf with a scowl on his face. The man in black was leaning against the table with Nina to his left and the Darkling to his right. They appeared to be in deep conversation only looking up when I entered the room. I felt awkward and uneasy. A prickling sensation rushing up my neck. Nina was smiling at me, but the Darkling held no trace of the warmth I thought I’d felt the night before. The other man in black showed no emotion on his face but I did notice that he was slightly closer to Nina than he was to the Darkling. The energy of the room was strange, I felt like I was intruding even though I was expected.
The first man in red closed the door and moved over to the man by the bookcase completely at ease like he couldn’t feel the tension in the room.The Darkling leant over the table, imposing and powerful with his hands braced against the table examining me from afar as I stood on the other side of the table. Everything about him was so different to last night. It was as if he held two identities within himself. One for the public and one for him… or maybe just for me. My heart constricted at the thought, filling me with anxiety but maybe just underneath it there was a little glimmer of excitement.
The smiling man in red chokes on a cough from his spot by the other man who looks even more annoyed. I realise that the Darkling and I had been staring at each other for several minutes without speaking. I turn back to him and notice Nina brush her little finger against the hand of the large man, he jolts moving his hand a little away from hers in an almost imperceptible movement though his face still remained blank like a mask.The Darkling cleared his throat and removed himself from the table “Good of you to join us Miss Starkova, I trust you found your quarters suitable?” I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing him or at the very least not be so overwhelmed by him. The tailoring of his black shirt was impeccable, and his cloak was heavy and beautifully embroidered with shimmering swirls of pewter that moved just like his shadows. I swallow and nod. Even from across the room our eyes meet and the connection I felt jumps. “Yes, thank you my quarters are more than suitable. They’re exquisite” like you... a small voice whispers from within my chest. I look away, the tension between us too much to bear. Dimly I realise that everyone in the room is either wearing red or black except from me. I wondered what the colours meant but kept silent. “We have some questions for you Ms Starkova” the Darkling begins, the icy claws of fear start making its way through my veins as he starts pacing. “Where were you raised?” He begins. Of course he started with a complicated question. “I was raised near Keramzin” I reply, my feet planted firmly on the ground to stop my knees from shaking. “There’s an orphanage near there” The stern man in red adds, looking at the Darkling who looks at me with a raised eyebrow “Are you from the orphanage?” he asks, and I bristle, it’s none of their business where I’m from or how I got there.“Yes, I am from the orphanage” I bite out through gritted teeth “Not that it’s any of your business anyway.” I hear two sharp intakes of breath from the Darkling’s colleagues. My response aggravated him, a fire rises in his eyes as he stalks around the table to stand in front of me “Every witch in Ravka is my business Miss Starkova” He croons at me. Now I was angry. I turned towards him and took a step towards him speaking in a low voice “Well you’re obviously not doing a very good job keeping up with that business are you? From behind me there were three sharp intakes of breath and a sharp exclamation of a word that in a language I couldn’t understand. The Darkling’s eye’s narrow as he looks down at me, we were barely three steps away from each other and yet he walks towards me like a lion stalking its prey. His eyes never leaving mine, searching for something within them I could not name. “Your coven died” he says suddenly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Lots of covens die” I reply angrily, blood rushing to my ears “It doesn’t look like you’re doing anything to stop it from your palace”.
The Darkling reeled back like he was slapped and sighs. I’m surprised, I thought he had more fight in him but seeing him deflate made my anger slowly dissipate.
He looks down at me, his grey eyes filled with sorrow “You’re right, many covens have been lost in this foolish war and no matter how hard I try they keep dying” He sighs again, his broad shoulders rising and falling in an agonising movement “I’ve been trying to keep track of the losses and track down the survivors but there are so many who have fallen through the cracks” The more the Darkling spoke the more deflated he seemed, like the weight of the world was slowly crushing him and he alone was to bear it. I was shocked that he would show such vulnerability in front of a total stranger but strangely honoured at the same time. “The second army is a coven, not only army like the King wishes it would be. It’s a home, a sanctuary for witches and I have worked hard to make it so.” The Darkling gazes into my eyes with the same intensity I saw last night, the weight seemingly lifted from his shoulders “ I would like you to join me and work with me to make Ravka safe for witches again” I was taken aback my his statement and started to respond but he raised a gloved hand
“I meant it when I said I had been waiting a long time for you, in time I will explain what I mean but for now, I’d like to offer you a home here, somewhere you can hone your skills and be safe from the persecution of mortals” Something about the offer seemed too good to be true but I wanted it. My heart ached from how badly I wanted it. Somewhere to belong? Somewhere I could be unapologetically myself?“You don’t know me” I begin looking into the Darkling’s beautiful beseeching eyes “I could be a threat and you’re just inviting me to stay?” He chuckles, a warm rich sound that surprised me “I hope you are a threat” He breathes, seemingly forgetting the audience and reverting back to the man he was last night.I look away, a strange feeling overtaking me followed by the urge to create space between the Darkling and myself. I turn towards Nina and the other witches. Nina and the other witches in red were watching with unabashed interest. The man in black however looked bored. Could I make a home here? Would I be welcome? Taking a deep breath, I turn back to the Darkling “I would like to join you.” He smiles again “An excellent choice Miss Starkova.” From behind me I hear Nina clap and exclaim “Yes, it is excellent!” I look just in time to see the man in black stifling a smile as he looks down at the witch in red.The Darkling puts a hand on my shoulder “I should make some introductions” he gestures to Nina “This is Nina Zenik but you already knew that, next to her” The man in black straightens his posture under the Darkling’s gaze “Is Matthias Helvar, he helps me with… a variety of things” they nod to eachother and the Darkling looks towards the bookshelves to the two men in red. Extending his hand he points to the men “These are the heads of my personal guard Ivan and Fedyor Kaminsky.” They incline their head in unison. They must spend a lot of time together to be so in sync.My stomach rumbled; in my nervousness I’d forgotten that I hadn’t eaten. Although I was unsure of the time, it was obvious I needed to eat something. “She’ll need to eat something in the dining hall” Nina began looking at the Darkling “is it time for her to be introduced to the Coven yet?” The darkling looked from Nina to me, seemingly in thought “I suppose it is time she meet her coven, she can stay with the ethereals for now until we establish the full extent of her talents.” Ethereals? Talents? My mind boggled at the thought. Just yesterday I was suppressing my magic and now I had talents and a coven.
After some discussion it was established that the Darkling and Nina would escort me to the dining hall, leaving Ivan, Fedyor and Matthias together to continue the discussion I had interrupted. The dining hall was hidden behind two large oak doors with the elements burnt into them. The burnings shimmered and danced the longer you looked at them. The Darkling pushed the doors open, and the bustling conversations ended abruptly as everyone turned to look at us. I felt like an exposed nerve under the inspection of every witch in the hall. The Darkling took a step forward to address the Coven “This is Alina Starkova, she will be joining our coven. I trust you’ll make her feel at home” He announced in a loud and clear voice. He seemed to make meaningful eye contact with a dark-haired witch with glorious bronzed skin who was wearing a blue cloak similar to mine but with swirls of silver that danced across the cloak like the air. A tightness appears in my throat and no matter how hard I swallowed it wouldn’t leave.
The Darkling nodded at me and left, presumably back to the war room.Nina nudged me towards the tables where the dark-haired witch was sitting. Great, the last place I wanted to sit. The dining hall was silent as we moved through the tables. Occasionally I’d hear someone murmur “Do you think it’s really her?” or “I heard she lit up the sky” and my favourite response “No you idiot she set a corporal’s hat on fire.” Nina ignores them all with her head high as she leads me to our destination. The table was full of other witches in blue cloaks with different coloured embroidery who were watching me with badly concealed interest. She looks at the witch with beautiful embroidery “We’re going to be sitting here so you’d better move up” She announces, leaving no room for argument as the other witches bunch up so we could sit down. As soon as we were sat, servants brought our food out to us. It was simple but far nicer than anything I’d had at the orphanage and the First Army combined. Nina points her spoon at the dark-haired witch “This is Zoya, she’s a squaller and a royal pain in my ass.” Zoya sniff’s imperiously “Actually I’m THE squaller, no-one here is quite as good as me” she finishes with a smug smile in my direction. Nina introduces everyone else, the only two names I remember are Marie and Nadia. They seem friendly enough but I was so overwhelmed I decided to stick to eating my breakfast while Nina dominated the conversation.