Sea and Stars - a Nikolai Lantsov x OC fan fiction

4

I WAS THE ONLY ONE in the Fabrikator workshops. Perhaps the lack of eyes made me bold, or perhaps it was the time-sensitive ambition coursing through my veins, but whatever it was, I decided to take a look around.

It wasn't long before I stumbled upon a desk scattered with papers, all documents and diagrams and images foreign to my eyes. But among the strange documents, a few peculiar images caught my eye, and I made quick work sorting through them.

Images of antlers. No, a stag. A man in chains. Words upon words in a language I didn't understand or even recognize. Words written in what I could only comprehend to be Old Ravkan. I couldn't read it, but some of the words and letters bordered on familiar.

One in particular snagged my attention. It was written hastily in Ravkan. Without thinking, I reached for the document, but much to my shock, a hand encircled my wrist just in time, locking it in a surprisingly soft iron grip. My stomach tightened. I had been so engrossed in my findings that I hadn't seen or heard anyone come in.

I whipped around to find myself face to face with the one and only David Kostyk—the brilliant Fabrikator and diligent scientist, and one of the Darkling's most favored Grisha. And here I was, standing directly in front of him, caught in the act of digging through his prized work. Of course it's his.

Just my luck.

"Saints," I swore.

"Excuse me, that's...classified," he said, surprising me with his politeness. He could go straight to the Darkling, the general of the Second Army and thus myself, and turn me in for snooping, but he didn't. So for fear of being perceived as some sort of Fjerdan spy or Grisha traitor, I used that niceness to my advantage. I needed him to think I was just curious.

It shouldn't be too hard. I was, in fact, just curious.

"The stag—" I blurted, perhaps too loudly.

"That's classif—" He stopped short, gears turning in his mind.

"What?" I asked. I couldn't help myself.

He continued, "What do you know about a stag?"

"Not a stag. This one. I know this one," I replied, trying to come up with a new plan of action given the curious turn of events. I pointed to the picture half covered on the desk, the one that caught my attention before. I have no idea what I'm saying, only that I'm trying to formulate a way out.

Still, David Kostyk didn't seem angry. He seemed more alert, excited even. He was thinking. Perhaps I can get out of this unscathed after all.

"You know this stag?"

"Yeah. Well, I've seen it....in...well, in a dream." The more I talk, the more I am certain that I'll be found out, but still I keep going. "Why?"

"Come with me," he said, already pulling me along by my wrist. Shit.

"Okay. Why, though?" I asked as we made our way through the workshops, my fabrikator instincts kicking in. I want to know what's so special about this animal. "Where are we going? And what does this have to do with the drawing?"

David didn't answer my continuous questions, though. We simply made through the halls of the Little Palace with efficient focus. My stomach churned, nervousness eating up my resolve from before. I don't know what he has in store for me, but I hope his maturity and kindness isn't a façade for something darker.

When we stopped before two grand black doors, however, I knew precisely who we were going to see, and a new wave of nausea threatened to suffocate me. I was not off the hook at all. Saints, I was in so much trouble.

***

I PRETENDED TO BE HAVING DREAMS, and it wasn't long after those "dreams" were found out that my entire purpose shifted. My alleged connection to the strange, majestic animal made me into the Darkling's little puppet. He had plans for that stag, and by consequence, me—the liar Grisha from a foreign country who was way over her head.

The sad thing was, I couldn't even backtrack at this point, because to do so would mean admitting I lied about formal, national affairs that piqued the Darkling's, of all people's, interests. I couldn't imagine what he'd do to me if he found out. The best I could do now was lie low, answer questions as vaguely as I can, and keep my eyes peeled for a way out.

I didn't have time to do much of anything, though, before I was forced to travel alongside the Darkling and his favorite fabrikator in search of what they referred to as Morozova's stag—the very special, majestic legend I've been pretending to have hallucinated. Apparently, they needed it to form an amplifier for the great Alina Starkov, because how could the legendary and powerful sun summoner possibly save the world unless she had even more power?

I didn't know what the Darkling wanted from me, but it was clear that I was only a means to an end, and yet, I did what he told me to, anyway. I could not help myself.  As much as he scared me, I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to value me. He only ever seemed to see me as second to Alina and I knew he always would, but still I'd hold onto hope.

But Alina was the all-powerful sun; I was merely another star, a little glimpse of a greater promise.

Even after the general forced the amplifier onto Alina, a disturbing feat to which I could not resist a shudder, I stood by his side. I no longer had to lie, not really, and yet, he still only ever chased after her. Even after Alina ran away with her o'kazatzya lover and the Darkling raged on, causing absolute destruction in Novokribirsk, I stood by his side. I was always there. I just wished he'd notice.

"Eryn Raye," he said one day, his deep, accented voice settling into my bones and making me feel alight with something other than the stars I had mastery over, "will you accompany me on a journey?"

"I..." I nodded, at a loss for words. I shouldn't be surprised he'd asked me to help him, most certainly with whatever more he needed regarding the missing sun summoner, but more than anything, my heart expanded. I was needed. I was wanted. I was important to something. "Yes. Yes, of course. Anything."

As soon as I said it, I wanted to take it back. Too late, I remembered my sister. Too late, I thought that if I had played my cards right, I could've gotten the most powerful Grisha's help in finding her. I knew what the Darkling said to me all those weeks ago when I arrived, that Ava was gone and was never coming back, but I still didn't believe it. I would know if that was the case. I would know if she was dead. And I could've bargained for the Darkling's help in finding her.

But, I supposed, would it have worked, anyway?

The Darkling never cared about anyone or anything other than the power he could and would undoubtedly achieve. I would help him regardless, and hopefully he would help me, too.

"Pack a bag," he said to me that day. "We have a ship to catch."

***

Author's note: This chapter felt a bit rushed, but I don't hate it, so hopefully you still enjoy. I'm trying to speed up the beginning so we can actually get to the stuff I promised, i.e. everyone's favorite too-clever fox. If you enjoyed, please vote and comment!