Chapter 4: New Torna

Natalya had never seen a ship like this before. Sleek and black with gold plating, imposing and threatening, the kind of frightening beauty that warned of the danger lurking within. But most importantly, there was no Titan in sight. Something else must be powering that ship. Who were these people? Natalya guessed she would know soon enough.

Malos, as it turned out, was even less likeable than Jin. Jin may have been cold as ice, but Malos was a different story entirely. There was something in his eyes that reminded her of the Praetor, full of a dark determination that made her pray he would never be her enemy. But it seemed he was satisfied enough with her anger towards Indol to not toss her into the Cloud Sea straight away.

Torna. That's what they called themselves. Named for the Golden Country that fell in the last days of the Aegis War and the people devastated by Indol in the aftermath. Her new home, named for the place that had killed her little brother. Yet, somehow, she could not bring herself to hate it. They had all lost just as much as her. A group of survivors of Indol's reign of terror, dead set on vengeance against the Praetorium at any cost. Malos, Jin, Mikhail, two others Natalya had not yet met, and now her. Natalya pitied those who would try to stand in their way. Though looking at Malos and Jin and the power and strength radiating from every fibre of their being, Natalya understood his reservations, she might have become a decent thief, but was probably still the most useless member of their group.

"You're shivering.", Mikhail noted, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I'm cold.", Natalya shrugged. "Pay it no mind, I've been that way since…", she trailed off.

Mikhail's eyes shone with understanding. "Ice Blade?", he guessed.

Natalya stared wide-eyed. "How'd you?"

Mikhail pointed to his own chest, and a fan-shaped blue crystal flickered briefly into view.

"You and I are the same, I guess.", he said, almost wistfully.

No, he wasn't her Misha, though he reminded her so much of him it hurt, but it was just wishful thinking on her part. Some foolish lingering hope that she could see him again. But even if Mikhail wasn't her Misha, Natalya felt like she couldn't help but like him. It felt nice. Her first friend since Liam had died.

"Where are we going?", she asked.

"I thought you might want to see your room. You'll be sharing it with Patroka. She's got an attitude, but I'm pretty sure it's just a façade, I think she does actually care way more than she lets on."

Mikhail trailed off and Natalya was not quite sure whether he had been talking to her or rather himself. Either way, she was already a little weary of her new roommate.

"Are they like us too? Are they –", Natalya swallowed, she hated the word, it still tasted like poison on her tongue.

"Blade Eaters?", Mikhail laughed. "No. That's just us, to be honest, I never thought anyone else had made it out of Indol's experiments alive, I thought I was the only one left. No, Akhos and Patroka, they are more like Jin. Flesh Eaters."

"And Malos? His energy…"

"You noticed, huh? Yeah, Malos is different from us entirely, but none of that is my story to tell, if you want to know, it's best to ask them, or, where Jin and Malos are concerned, wait until they tell you, you might not like the consequences otherwise.", he winked at her. "Ah, here we are.", he announced a moment later, gesturing to a door on her right. "I have to go help Jin with the cooking, but I'll see you later. Patroka should be back soon."

And with those words and a small wave, he was gone. Too quickly for her to not believe he fled the scene.

Natalya's hand hesitated on the door handle. She took a deep breath, opened the door and looked at the room in front of her. It wasn't big, but it looked comfortable. There was a bed against each sidewall and a small wardrobe in the corner. Natalya was about to take a step into the room, wondering which bed was supposed to be Patroka's, when someone yelled at her from the corridor.

"You!"

Natalya whirled to see a woman, about her height with long smooth black hair walk towards her.

"Patroka?", she guessed.

"I see Mikhail just dropped you here. Does he expect me to babysit for him?", she asked harshly.

"I don't need a babysitter!" This was ridiculous, she was almost 200 years old at this point. "Just tell me which bed is yours so I can sit down."

"Left." Patroka stepped past her and opened the wardrobe, took out a uniform and tossed it at her.

"And put that on, you look ghastly in those rags and maybe you'll stop shivering when you're wearing something proper."

Natalya doubted the clothes would help with the shivering, but she knew better than to argue. No doubt she'd already antagonised Patroka enough – not that she had any clue about what she'd done, but Natalya thought it best not to ask. So she just thanked her and changed. It had been an eternity since she'd worn Tornan clothing. The old woman who had patched her up on the refugee ship had given her a dress of her daughter's to wear, as her own clothes had been horribly torn from the blast. She'd worn it for most of her early life after Indol, until she eventually did grow out of it.

Mikhail poked his head into the room sometime later.

"Jin said to get you, dinner is ready.", he stopped and surveyed Natalya then turned to Patroka. "You gave her your clothes? I knew you had a soft spot buried under all that stone."

Patroka hissed at him. "I have no idea what your problem is. Her chattering teeth annoyed me and besides, it's not like those are my clothes anyway."

With that, she stomped past him. Mikhail looked after her, opened his mouth, then apparently thought better of it, and turned back to Natalya.

"These don't look too shabby on you." His expression was

"Thanks. I never thought I'd be wearing something like this ever again."

Mikhail's eyes widened. "Are you from –"

"Torna? No. But I was there for a while. It seems like it was an eternity ago. Back before –" Natalya shook her head, trying to dispel the memories of her last days in Torna from her mind, especially the face that accompanied them.

Mikhail seemed to sense her distress. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"We better go, or I'll have to listen to one of Jin's lectures about letting the food get cold.", he laughed, "Come on."