VERA

Vera was walking back to her apartment, crossing the streets of the University District until she was standing in front of the door. Her building was small, but well-maintained. She used the key that swung on her hips to open the heavy wooden door. She was confident enough of her abilities to keep her keys out in the open. She stepped through the door and climbed the steps leading to her own apartment, one of the seven in the building. She climbed them two by two, eager to see Oliver again.

She didn't know what she was thinking, leaving him alone, but she had hoped he would be fine. Only now did Vera realize how stupid the decision had been. Anything could happen to him, and she was positive Kaz wouldn't have established his protection by now. Though she didn't know everything Kaz was capable of…

Vera unlocked her door, tentatively, in case Oliver was sleeping. He was. He was lying on an armchair, his head resting on the arm of the chair. Vera exhaled in relief. She drew the curtains closed, as to not disturb him, and turned on a dim lamp. She locked the door behind her and returned her keys to her hip. She then took a light blanket from her room and tucked it around Oliver, his sweet face shifting in sleep.

Vera sat down in the armchair next to his and pulled out her notes from her classes. It would be hard to juggle around her classes and the job Kaz needed for her, but she could manage. She started to fill out her work on a paper, the pen rubbing on the paper.

What was it Kaz wanted her for? She knew that almost all the Grisha had left Kerch, but she was never in contact with them. She used to be…

Vera shook her head, frustrated. She wouldn't let her mind wander there. She instead thought about Inej, the interesting girl she had met. She seemed around Vera's own age, 17, though of course it was just a guess. Vera had an odd fascination with the Suli. She knew the generic information: the Suli were travellers, acrobats, dancers. Vera had always wished for the liquid grace they had, which she had witnessed when Inej had clambered both in and out the window.

Oliver mumbled in his sleep, drawing Vera's mind back to her work and her half-brother. She turned to look at him, but he was still fast asleep, the blanket falling off his legs. Vera smiled to herself, then put her books away. It was no use. She was too distracted.

Vera hummed an old tune to herself. She stood and went to wash her hands in the bathroom, her body needing something to do. She rubbed slippery floral soap on her hands, and as she reached her hands under the faucet, she caught glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her black hair was in a loose knot at the back of her neck, and there were dark circles below her strange golden eyes.

Vera suddenly felt overwhelmed, her body acknowledging the constant ache in her head, her hands shaking under the water. She turned off the water and dropped her head onto her cool hands. Vera felt like giving up.

Since she was a child, she had been getting migraines, terrible headaches plaguing her every waking, and sleeping, moment. Before they had moved to Kerch, Father had done everything he could, from the local doctor to a Grisha Healer. Yet even when the Healer looked to her, he had said there was nothing to be done.

"There isn't anything for me to do. There isn't anything anyone can do. Sir, your daughter will not live for long." Vera had remembered the very words the Healer had said. She remembered the feelings of hopelessness, and the sorrow and agony on Father's face. She was young then, close to eleven years, but she had still vowed to make a life for herself. Not Father. He had given up.

Oliver was a very small child then, though he didn't understand what was happening.

Father had taken them to Kerch though, from their dusty home in Ravka. He had grown excitement in both of his children, and they thought they were going for a new home, a new life. Turns out they were just going for the sins Ketterdam provided, from the pleasure houses on West Stave to the gambling clubs on East. Father had lost both his wives, Vera's mother and Oliver's, and was depressed from the pain. At least that was what Vera told herself.

They had moved when Vera was twelve, Oliver two. They had a decent place in the Zelver District. They lived nicely for three years, but it got worse. Father went from work to bedding a woman, or getting drunk on alcohol, or gambling away all his savings, or getting high on the offered drugs. Vera never knew and she never wanted to. Finally, he had wasted, his life turning into dust, leaving his children with no money, with nothing.

Vera had been fifteen then, burdened with a five year old child. She had roamed for work, but never found. They were kicked out of their home, their few kruge robbed from their very hands. Finally, Vera had found the Council of Tides.

Vera blinked. She would not think about the Council of Tides. She lifted her head from her hands and left the bathroom, her mind a mess, her head a tangle of agony. She went to her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed, her head allowing her to focus on nothing.

"Vera?" Oliver's soft voice came from the hall. Vera stood instantly, and stepped out of her room.

"Oliver." She reached out her arms to the sleepy boy, and he fell into them. "Are you hungry?"

"No. My stomach hurts."

Vera fussed over him. She was always an overprotective sister, what with the loss of her mother, and father, and she never wanted to lose him.

That was when she heard someone clearing their throat from the main room.