Chapter 14: Unanswered Letters

629 14 1
                                    


In Ravka (unknown location)... 


Malyen Oretsev walked along the grassy hill with his companions on a mission to help the First Army fight the Fjerdan soldiers in a town called Chernast. Mal crested the ridge of the small hill, his companions walking further and further away from him as the sun moved over the horizon to bathe the world in a ethereal-seeming golden light. 

Dear Alina, weeks gone and still no word from you, he wrote. This is my third letter. My unit has been sent to Chernast where the Fjerdans keep attacking at night. I tried bribing a Squaller to get word to you. He laughed at me. I petitioned the lieutenant to write to Little Palace on my behalf. Before he dismissed me, he asked, "What is she to you, anyway?" And I wasn't sure how to answer. I can't stop seeing your face that day on the skiff. I don't think I ever will. 


In Chernast... 


The group sat around a small table as the lieutenant called out names. 

'Valok. Mikhael. And... Lenora. That's all, folks.' Mal sat there, eyes downcast. Dubrov and Mikhael, Mal's friends, came up, Dubrov sliding into the bench seat next to Mal. Mikhael sniffed the letter. 

'Ah... I love it when she does that. Here.' He passed it to Dubrov, who sniffed it too. 

'Smells like braised lamb.' 

'You're an idiot.' 

'What? I love braised lamb.' 

'Shut up.' The lieutenant unrolled another piece of parchment and announced, 

'Pathfinders, a new assignment has come down from Os Alta. Every unit north of Chernast is tasked with volunteering a tracking party. General Kirigan is offering a visit all the way to the Little Palace for the one who can find Morozova's Stag.' He showed a drawing to the crew as the crowd of soldiers, all except Mal, chuckled. 

And there it was, Mal wrote. I knew the drawing was yours. 

It was of a stag, with curved antlers, perfectly detailed. It only could have been drawn by none other than Alina Starkov, one of the best mapmakers in the First Army, that was, until she became the Sun Summoner. 

'That's right,' the lieutenant said. 'The ancient, mythical creature. Except in the flesh, if you please. So, volunteers.' The table was silent. Then the crowd of soldiers chuckled again. 

'The Black General has finally lost it,' Dubrov announced, making the group laugh harder. 

'Wasting our soldiers on Second Army nonsense,' the lieutenant scoffed mockingly. 'Now they have a Sun Summoner, all the old folk tales are back on the table.' The crowd laughed once more, until a hand with a scar identical to the one on the hand of the Sun Summoner's raised. It was hardly seen by anyone, including the lieutenant, until the owner of the hand spoke. 

'I'll do it. I'll go.' It was Mal. The hope that he had held all along, that he would eventually get to see his best friend since childhood, Alina Starkov, again, shone in his eyes. 


In Os Alta (the Little Palace)... 


Alina Starkov sat on her bed in the Little Palace, tracing the exact same scar that had been on her hand, and that of her best friend Mal's, since childhood. All was quiet. It had been oddly calm since the day that she'd been reprimanded by Baghra, and beaten horribly by Zoya in the combat training field, and met the Apparat. She was pulled out of her thoughts by someone knocking on the door. 

'Come in.' Genya walked in, with two maids, holding an item of clothing, in a white bag with a pair of riding boots. 

'Morning, sunshine,' Genya said cheerfully. Alina came to the head of the bed, beaming at Genya, who seemed like her only best friend right now. 

'Have any letters arrived?' Alina asked expectantly. 

'No.' Her face fell. Genya came to the bed, showing her the pair of boots. 

'I'm going riding?' 

'With General Kirigan. And his sister.' 

'I need to train, not be trotted around town. And he has a sister?' 

'He does. Her name's Adela. She's something of royalty among the Grisha, perhaps even more so than her brother.' 

'How come I haven't seen her with the other Grisha?' 

'Like I said, she's royalty. She doesn't train with the other Grisha because the King and Queen like to doll her up and take her to parties with them. I'm not just the Queen's assistant, I'm hers, as well. She is Grisha, and has the same ability as her brother, but she doesn't train - or lead anything, really.' Alina sat back. So that was the female that had been in the throne room that day, manipulating the powers of shadow to turn the room black, like the General. 

'The sooner I do what I need to do,' Alina said, 'the sooner I can get back to...' 

'Your life?' Genya pointedly interrupted. The red-haired woman sat next to Alina on the bed. 'This is your life.'

'Yeah, my life,' Alina mumbled under her breath. 'Where Zoya is waiting to squall me into a wall or an open fire pit.' 

'She's off the palace grounds. Didn't you hear?' another female voice said, making Alina and Genya look up towards the voice. It was a female with black hair and dark eyes, but light skin. She wore a black kefta with gold accents and fur lining on the collar and bottom hem, as well as heeled riding boots. The woman ran a hand through her wavy dark hair. 'Good riddance. I always hated Zoya. She kept giving my brother the 'flirty eyes'.' She shuddered. 'He sent her away to reassesse her priorities.' Genya stood. 

'Come on, you don't want to keep him waiting,' the redhead said, opening the white bag. 

'Saints forbid. Why? Is he angry?' 

'This might do the trick.' Alina looked to see a black kefta, almost the same as the woman's, but it was an especially dark blue, but with black trim and gold accents. Alina picked the hem up and felt it. 

'Black is his colour. Not mine.' The woman who had come in earlier, looked over the edge of the bed to see the kefta. 

'Ooh, you're definitely special. I think he's got his eye on you. He never lets anyone else wear black. Except maybe me. I'm pretty sure Genya told you, but I'm Adela. Adela Kirigan.' Adela extended her hand towards Alina and Alina took it. 

'Alina Starkov.' 

My Name Is Adela Kirigan (A Shadow and Bone Season 1 Fanfiction)Where stories live. Discover now