Alina woke up on the morning of her second day in the Little Palace with the acute awareness that her life was different. Perhaps it was growing up with a target on her back from being half-Shu, but she had always possessed the ability to snap from a deep sleep to completely alert in a moment, fully conscious and aware of her surroundings. So, when Alina woke it was with the full knowledge that she was not in her tent with the rest of the first army, was no longer a cartographer, and instead she was Grisha. A Sun Summoner. As if fitting in before wasn't hard enough.
After the incident in the fold, she had been ensconced to the lap of luxury among the Grisha. Saints, she had even met the King yesterday.
After quickly rinsing and dressing Alina opened the bedroom door. It was late morning and although she had no plans she figured she could explore the grounds. To her surprise, two men in palace guards uniforms were standing sentry on each side of the doorframe.
"Ah…" Alina's eyes flicked between the two men, "Have you been there all morning?"
No response came from either or even any indication they had heard her at all.
"Sorry I asked." Alina mumbled as she exited the room and began down the hall. A minute later the Sun Summoner came down the stairs, followed by the guards she had found posted outside her bedroom.
Unwilling to let their looming presence deter her from exploring Alina stepped briskly, aiming for the door to the outside. On both sides of her goal however were two more palace guards and when she got close, the two palace guards closed the gap between them, effectively blocking her exit.
A flame of irritation licked at Alina's insides but before she could voice her indignation someone called out to her.
"Alina! There you are." A Squaller approached, smiling broadly, accompanied by an Inferni. The two girls were physically a very stark contrast to one other, but they both held the same broad smile.
"We've been looking for you." The Inferni stated as both girls took Alina by the elbow and escorted her away from the palace guards.
"We weren't properly introduced earlier. I'm Marie," The Inferni motioned to herself, then to the Squaller, "this is Nadia."
Alina looked over her shoulder at the two palace guards who had followed her from her bedroom and were still following them.
"Why are the guards keeping me inside?"
"Oh. You're supposed to be in training now." The Squaller, Nadia, answered before promptly asking, "Are you really a mapmaker?"
"Were you really attacked by Fjerdans?" Marie, the Inferni, followed up before Alina had a chance to answer the first question.
"How many Fjerdans did you kill?"
"Kill? I barely got a swing off at one."
"Sounds like our timing is perfect."
"Training is near the west stables." Nadia declared as the two of them continued to drag her through corridors and on a set path. Their pace was brisk and Alina had to step quickly to keep up.
Eventually they broke away from the guards and all three exited out to the back of the Little Palace.
"So glad to be away from them." Nadia stated with a glance over her shoulder.
"Never did like being followed like a flight risk." Marie agreed.
"What? Are they always like that?"
"Oh no." Marie assured her.
"They're only like that at first. Mostly with new Grisha, and well, you're a bit old but you are new." Nadia explained, all the while keeping up their whirlwind pace.
"Not that you're old-old. Just most Grisha are found when they're still kids." Marie followed up.
"Thanks." Alina responded, deadpan. She knew they meant no insult at calling her old.
Suddenly there was a loud boom in the distance and a faint vibration in the ground.
"What was that?" Alina's eyebrows rose and she blinked twice in surprise but the two Grisha pulling her through the gardens didn't even seem to notice the explosion.
"That was just the Alkemi clearing a segment in the cellar below the palace. Apparently they're expanding to make new rooms for Alkemi and Durast labs." Nadia responded off-handedly.
"Everyone says Inferni are pyromaniacs but Alkemi are the ones always blowing things up." Marie's nose crinkled slightly as she spoke.
The two girls were a flurry of conversation and movement as they rapidly pulled Alina along off the garden path. Just before they left the garden path though Alina felt a strange sensation, like a noiseless ringing in her head and a buzz over her skin. The Sun Summoner looked over her shoulder.
Walking through the gardens away from the Little Palace was a tall man dressed entirely in black. He possessed ink black hair and sharp, beautiful features. Around him the shadows seemed to shift as he passed, pulled along by him like a tide.
Alina blinked, not believing her eyes, and when she looked again he had disappeared.
~...~...~
Getting used to life in the little palace was an adjustment. People, Grisha, were warm and friendly in a way others had never been. Training was hard, harder than what she had endured during her time in the first army. Amidst all of that, Alina was still coming to terms with herself, who she was now, and the strangeness of not even knowing herself.
Nadia and Marie had welcomed the Sun Summoner with open arms after her demonstration at the Grand Palace before the King and Queen. They had escorted her to combat training where she had begun her training. Grisha fought different than the first army. She couldn't place the difference since before she had only been a cartographer and thus gotten minimal combat training, but it seemed more...intense. It certainly felt more intense.
Between training and her abominable evening with Baghra, Alina was sore in places she didn't even know had muscles before today.
Sitting in the Little Palace's dining room, her sore muscles seemed out of synch with the opulence around her.
What had once been called the White Mirror Room had been converted into a dining room centuries ago back when the Grisha had taken over the Little Palace. The walls were white with gold-outlined panels. The ceiling was decorated with intricate gilded stucco and three crystal chandeliers. Servers passed to and fro over the inlaid parquet floors. Between the three long tables placed in a triangular shape was a triangular floor design, serving as a form of floor art. Shear lace drapes covered over the windows and tied together beside the window were heavy beige drapes with cream quatrefoil patterns.
Everything about the Little Palace seemed so whimsical compared to the intimidating design of the neighboring Grand Palace.
Beside Alina were the two girls who had befriended her so quickly.
"How was your time with Baghra?" Nadia asked as she turned her head to hear Alina's response.
"It was a promising start." Alina responded, feeling slightly dishonest remembering Baghra's training.
After a brief but strange conversation with the otkazat'sya taster the whole dining room turned to listen as Ivan stood, clutching a scroll with new intel.
"News from the Fjerdan front." All conversations and clinks of dinnerware came to a halt as every Grisha in the room paused to hear Ivan's report.
"In the First Army, many casualties in the 18th, 27th, and 36th battalions."
"Did he say 36th?" Alina whispered to Marie.
"Also among the dead," Ivan continued, "six Healers, four Inferni and three Heartrenders." At the end of his sentence, his eyes locked with Alina's.
"The Fjerdans will be no match against a unified Ravka." His eyes never left Alina's even as he rolled back up the scroll. There were thorns in his voice as his eyes stared her down, making her feel like the small orphan she had once been, "Why are you here eating figs, hmm?"
Grisha around the table were all looking at Alina now. Her head dipped down as she tried to avoid their gazes.
"You should be training every waking moment to tear down the Fold." Ivan declared, his thorns leaving open wounds internally.
The whole room froze, waiting for Alina's response.
Alina clamped her lips shut, her jaw tightened to the point of pain. Speaking back or defending herself would be like running through a thorn burn. Pointless and self-harming.
Marie and Nadia extended their hands to comfort her but before they could make contact Alina stood up. Her chair clamored loudly behind her, the only sound in a room full of people watching her every movement.
Her eyes sunken to the floor, she made a straight line for the exit.
~...~...~
Alina had run to the gardens behind the palace and kept running until she was at the edge of the forest and panting. She held herself against the trunk of a tree. Already her throat was raw. She tried to ignore the slightly metallic taste at the back of her mouth.
Everyone had been looking at her like she was their savior. Like she was the miracle they'd all been waiting for. Like she had all the answers, but never before had she felt so lost, without any answers. She didn't even know who she was anymore with these powers. She had grown up with Mal scoffing at the idea of a Sun Summoner coming to solve the world's problems. She felt like a fraud. And even scarier, a stranger to herself.
'You will not cry, Alina Starkov.' She thought furiously to herself, blinking her eyes fiercely. True to her nature she had found somewhere no living person could see her weakness as she cried.
The shadows rippled outside of her vision, blending with the darkness cast by the full moon.
~...~...~
She woke up the next day feeling more alone than she ever had back at the orphanage. Every Grisha in the palace made it look so easy. Yet she hasn't been able to conjure a flicker of light since arriving at the palace. She was being asked to do things she didn't even know she could do three days ago and the pressure on her was suffocating.
Her every muscle still ached from yesterday's combat and Grisha training. And she had a full day of the same to look forward to today as well.
"Alina!" Marie and Nadia came bustling into her room.
"What are you still doing sleeping?" Nadia was already tearing the bedsheets, and their warmth, away from Alina's body.
"It's time for training!" Marie urged, opening Alina's wardrobe and grabbing her blue and yellow kefta.
"We tried looking for you after what happened at dinner last night," Nadia's voice was unexpectedly solemn, "But we couldn't find you."
"Ivan was out of line." Marie's nose crinkled in disapproval.
"We know you're trying your hardest." Nadia assured, then switched gears, "Come on, it's time to train."
Alina groaned but ultimately couldn't avoid being dragged to the training grounds by the two Grisha.
~...~...~
There were murmurs as Alina hit the floor for the third time in a single match.
"Block!" The instructor, Botkin, shouted at her.
A low hiss escaped Alina's lips as she rubbed her shoulder and willed her body back into an upright position. Strands of hair were sticking to her forehead from her perspiration.
"I thought I was already trying that."
"Try harder!" Botkin urged. To be perfectly fair the former Shu Han mercenary had been rather patient while drilling Alina. Still she was leagues behind all the other Grisha her age.
He had paired her against Fedyor who had the most cheerful demeanor Alina had ever encountered.
"Perhaps we should rest." Fedyor offered. Alina rather thought Fedyor's eyes were like a puppy's and in that moment she was rather grateful for his merciful nature.
"Miss Starkov will rest when she successfully learns how to not die." Botkin asserted.
"It's fine." Alina said, despite feeling the opposite. She lifted her fists into a defensive position. Even in her condition she felt the need to reassure Fedyor and his torn expression, "I need to learn."
The Heartrender nodded and resumed his own stance.
"Fight!"
As soon as Botkin gave the order Fedyor had closed the gap between them and Alina was forced back. The Heartrender threw his first punch. Alina's body moved. Her hand made contact with the inside of the oncoming blow, deflecting it to the side.
"Good, another! Faster!"
Fedyor threw a series of small jabs which Alina deflected over her shoulder.
Then out of the corner of her eye she saw black up in the spectator's level. Up there, on the upper story encircling the training ground, was the tall man dressed entirely in black. There was a shifting of shadows around him. She could see his face clearly in that moment. He was handsome, with strikingly sharp features and onyx black eyes, and he was looking straight at her.
Fedyor landed a clean punch to the side of her face.
She dropped.
After that she lost sight of him. She lost sight of everything. Alina was entirely sure she had blacked out for a few moments because when she finally blinked her eyes open every Grisha in the training ground was in a circle around her.
"I apologize." Fedyor said sincerely as he offered his hand. Alina took it even though the world was still spinning around her.
"Keep your eyes on your opponent next time. For now, rest up." Botkin chastised, but it was clear he was not angry. Alina doubted he felt pity or responsible. Perhaps he just knew she was done.
"The rest of you," Botkin's voice boomed against the brick and stone walls, "back to training!"
Fedyor helped guide her to a spectator's seat against the stone walls before returning with the rest of the Grisha. Alina stared at the seat before sighing and taking it. The least she could do was try and pick up some techniques by watching them.
The remainder of morning passed in the same manner as she zoned in and out. She couldn't seem to keep that dark figure out of her thoughts long enough to focus on a whole match. There was something different about him. The way he managed to move through the palace without being stopped by guards or Grisha indicated that he was familiar to the Little Palace residents. Perhaps he was Grisha himself? Alina frowned in thought. His clothes weren't Grisha nor were his colors. Yet the way that he seemed to resonate power was undeniable.
"—ina, Alina?" Marie's voice cut through her musings.
Alina came out of her thoughts to realize that training had ended. She blinked in surprise. The training ground was still busy with some Grisha hanging around socializing while others packed up the grounds for the day, but it was obvious that they had been done for a quarter-hour at least.
"Sorry." Alina responded half-heartedly, "I was thinking about something."
"I bet it's a boy." Marie beamed.
"Or a girl." Nadia added with her own smirk.
"It's nothing like that." Alina quickly denied. "It's just…" the Sun Summoner considered whether or not to tell her two newest associates about the mysterious man dressed in black. She didn't even know how she could explain what it was about him. Alina recalled his piercing dark gaze. Her fear of being laughed at won out over her curiosity. "It's nothing, really."
The two Grisha exchanged a dubious look but didn't push the issue, for which Alina was infinitely grateful.
~...~...~
Before she knew it, a week had passed. Her training with Botkin was progressing poorly. Botkin had her running a myriad of drills throughout the palace grounds, through the woods, and up and down hills until she felt she would collapse from exhaustion. Over the past week she had practiced and practiced sparring drills and falling drills to the point where she felt more like one big bruise rather than a collection of bruises.
Her Grisha training was progressing equally well, which was to say not at all. Baghra would make her hold 'focus-enhancing poses' until her every muscle was stiff and cramped. The old woman gave her reading assignments, special herbal teas, and breathing techniques to practice. Every time Alina tried and failed to summon the light she was met with Baghra's cane or scathing remarks. Her other teaching tactics were somehow even more painful. The only time Alina had successfully summoned light since the Fold was when Baghra grabbed her wrist, amplifying her.
The one thing both Baghra and Botkin had in common was their mutual agreement that Alina was struggling because she was frail and weak, like she didn't already know that. Baghra said that her health was connected to her inability to call her power. She told her that it was a result of her using all her strength fighting her 'true nature.' Apparently Grisha who don't regularly use their powers become ill.
Alina had always been frail and sickly. Ever since she had been a little girl she had always had dark circles under her eyes and a drag to her movements. Her whole life she had been struggling and falling short. If Baghra's theory was right, then all that would change when she mastered her Grisha talent. That is, assuming she ever did.
Alina couldn't deny that she didn't feel particularly optimistic about her progress or lack thereof.
The only area she actually seemed to be making progress was in her studies in the library.
Nestled between rows and rows of ancient books and tomes on Grisha theory, history, and philosophy Alina breathed the familiar scent of parchment and ink. Of all the rooms, splendor, and luxuries of the Little Palace the library brought the most peace to the former cartographer. If she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, smelling ink, parchment, and old leather, she could almost pretend she was back in the first army's cartographers tent working on her daily sketch assignments.
Life had been simple then. She had known what was expected of her and everything made sense back then. Now, nothing made sense and each day she found herself too exhausted to even try to make sense of anything. Since coming to the Little Palace, between Botkin, Baghra, and catching up on years of Grisha theory and history, Alina was left with little extra energy outside of her training schedule.
In fact she had been so busy in the past week that she hadn't even remembered the man in black until she saw a flicker of black in her peripheral.
Her head whipped to the side but the shadow was gone, shifted out of view.
"Hello?" Alina called as she folded her book and placed it down beside her.
No response.
Alina stood, stepping silently towards the corner she had last seen what she thought was the dark coat of the man in black. Her heart was thrumming.
Her feet carried her to the edge of the standing bookshelves.
She heard the shuffle of clothing nearby.
"Is anyone there?" Alina called. Her heart dropped as she rounded the corner. A palace scholar looked at Alina with wide, stunned eyes. A mousy, petite woman in cream and gold stood frozen between the bookshelves, finger extended against the spine of a book on an eye-level shelf.
"Ah, sorry." Alina's eyes dimmed with disappointment.
The scholar hhrumph-ed and skulked off with a disarrayed stack of scrolls and tomes.
Alina let her frown surface as she watched the woman exit the library. Her eyes scanned the area once more before she felt hopeless. What was she doing chasing a man she didn't know?
She pivoted on her heel and almost came face to clavicle with a firmly build male figure.
"Looking for me?" the man's lip quirked in what was nearly a smile.
All Alina could think was that it was the man in black. His eyes were glistening like onyx in the light.
"You!" she squawked in a rather unladylike manner.
The side of the man's mouth twitched, as if he were repressing a smile.
"Me." He said simply, mirth apparent in the single word. His eyes slid over her from head to toe and back again, as if she were an amusing puzzle to be pieced together. Alina felt her face flush and took a step back, suddenly feeling self-conscious of how close they still were.
She squared her shoulders in an imitation of confidence.
"How did you get in here?" the small Sun Summoner demanded in an imperious tone.
The man looked around, as if taking in his surroundings for the first time. With no immediate response Alina frowned, "I've seen you around the Little Palace. Are you new?" Immediately after asking Alina realized, given how new she was to the Little Palace, he could merely be another Grisha back from a long deployment. She bit her lip and amended, "Or have you been away on mission?"
The man's eyes flashed. She watched his head turn quickly to look out the window. He was staring directly at the Grand Palace she realized. There was a darkness to the way he was staring at the building.
"Away." The man's voice seemed to float out of the shadows. He turned to her, "I've been away for a long time."
'Oh.' Alina thought in awe.
There was a rustling behind her and the man looked over her shoulder. Her eyes followed his. The scholar had returned, apparently in need of another tome.
"I should go." Softly, the man whispered beside her ear. Her heart quickened.
Alina turned back around to find only wisps of darkness floating in the air. The last evidence he had ever been there quickly dissipated like black ink dropped in water.
~...~...~
After that she found herself looking for his silhouette everywhere. Her eyes lingered on every shadow or spot of black. Sometimes she would see him in the distance watching her. She often found herself wondering what he was thinking. He hadn't approached her since that time in the library.
In her mind she worked out dozens of scenarios for why he was watching over her. In some he was sent by the king to keep an eye on her progress. In others he was sent by General Zoya Nazyalensky to both protect and spy on her. In a few she imagined he was with the strange and unsettling Apparat. In one she even imagined he was an angel sent to watch over her.
Regardless of her theories, the fact remained that, since that run in at the library, he always kept his distance.
She didn't like the idea that someone had sent him to keep an eye on her but it seemed, logically-speaking, the most likely. Yet her eyes always searched for him and she found herself wishing he wouldn't keep his distant. Maybe it was how he looked at her. He didn't look at her like someone just waiting to report back to their superior, nor did he look at her like she was the Sun Summoner Ravka's salvation from the Fold, or even like she was poor sickly Alina the cartographer. Usually he had a vaguely amused look, similar to a repressed smile. She could always tell though by the gleam in his eyes. Otherwise he was regularly withdrawn in thought. Only a few times had she seen him looking at her with something in his eyes that echoed hollowly like deep loneliness. It was at those times, when he looked at her like that, that she felt something different. That look set fire to her skin and sent electric shocks to her heart.
She didn't like that he made her feel so conflicted.
She still found herself wishing he would just close the distance, despite her discordant feelings about who might or might not have sent him to follow her. She knew it wasn't logical. She justified it by telling herself it would feel less apparent he was observing her if he approached and talked to her.
Finally, after a particularly long and failure-filled evening with Baghra she spotted him rounding a corner in front of her.
Something flared up in her and before she could even think she heard herself saying, "You two go ahead to dinner. I just remembered something."
The Inferni and Squaller exchanged bewildered looks as she doubled her speed and rounded the same corner she had seen him at just moments before.
Again, she saw the tail-end of his coat just as he disappeared around another corner. Corner after corner she near-sprinted after his shadowy figure. The Little Palace was like a maze and soon enough she had gone beyond the areas she was familiar with.
With a gust of breath she rounded another corner and stopped dead in her tracks. It was a dead end.
"Oh Saints."
Alina clenched her jaw and blinked her eyes at the end of the corridor. It was like all the other corridors and hallways in the Little Palace; rich red carpet with gold starbursts patterns, small stands and pedestals filled with miniature statues and trinkets of wealth, and on the walls were portraits of long-dead aristocrats and nameless government leaders. It was exactly what she expected, except it was empty.
She could cry. She could yell. First she was a stranger to herself, now she was losing her mind.
She must have stood there staring for minutes, hoping somehow a trick wall or magical trapdoor would show up. No such thing happened.
Alina bit her lip and, swallowing her pride, turned to try to retrace her steps back to the dining hall. Maybe she could still even get some food before going to bed…
"AH!" Alina yelped as she turned around to see the man standing directly behind her.
"You have such a way with words." His dark eyes glistened like polished onyx. A hint of humor twisted the corner of his lips.
"You—where—how." Alina's mouth opened and closed without producing any more questions.
"You have been following me!" she finally managed, her voice an indignant accusation.
The man in black looked at her for a long moment. She wasn't sure if he was thinking over what she'd accused him of or trying to intimidate her, but she gritted her teeth and returned his gaze.
He arched his eyebrow, "So I was," he said. "I must admit, I did not expect you to give chase with such persistence." And without another word he turned his back to her and started down the hall.
Alina felt her cheeks heat with indignation.
"Aren't you going to explain why you were following me?" she called furiously after him.
No response.
"The least you could do is tell me who sent you! Was it General Nazyalensky? The King?"
Alina rushed after him and went to grab his shoulder or arm to stop him, to demand answers—and her arm moved through shadows.
She froze in her steps, as did he.
"What…" her eyes widened and her extended fingers trembled, still halfway through his torso. She watched as shadows billowed and curled around her fingers where flesh and bone and matter should have been. "What are you?"
Her eyes shot up to the back of his head.
"An ill-fated monster." his voice was so soft. He turned to face her, his gaze stunningly intense.
He closed his eyes and looked away from her, averting his eyes to the wall beside him.
"It would be in your best interest not to associate with me." his voice was distant and flat, lacking the little inflections that gave emotion to words.
"What…are you?" Alina heard her voice whisper over the distance between them.
His eyes met hers. She held her breath as he turned his head slowly to face her directly, his prolonged gaze dark and intentional.
"Dead."
Alina exhaled softly.
'Dead.' The word echoed in her mind and soul.
He was dead. Her hand dropped limply to her side.
Vaguely, she realized that meant he was a ghost. Were ghosts even real? She had never heard of anyone meeting one before. But before she entered the Fold Sun Summoners were just a myth too.
"No one sent you." She felt hollow saying the words, but strangely enough she managed to hang onto and follow that line of logic, "If no one sent you, then why have you been following me?"
The candle-light from the sconces glinted off his near-black eyes.
"Because…" his eyes spoke of darkness and loss, "I've spent countless years in the darkness and you're the first glimmer of light I've had in a long time."
Was it because she was the Sun Summoner?
"Do you...know who I am?" Alina found herself asking. She didn't know why but it bugged her thinking that he was saying that because of what she was.
He looked genuinely baffled, "I've heard you be called Alina. Is that your name?"
Alina felt a pleased flush creep up her cheeks, then his expression became serious.
"Is that not your name?"
"No." she smiled, "You were right."
He nodded.
"What do I call you?" she asked.
"Call me?" the man echoed, clearly confused by the question. The man tilted his head to the side, "Are you not afraid?"
"No." Alina blinked in surprise, "Should I be?"
"I am Grisha."
Alina actually giggled, "We all are here."
Alina watched as his eyes widened. Amazement, confusion, and years worth of questions all crossed his perfectly sculpted face in a matter of mere moments. The Sun Summoner felt pieces clink together, "Do you not know where you are?"
It was almost humorous how disgruntled he looked. It was obvious he did not enjoy being at a loss.
"I recognize the Grand Palace, the winter residence of Ravka's King and the royal family."
"And you are in the Little Palace. Home to the Second Army which is made up of only Grisha."
The man looked at her for a long moment, clearly absorbing everything she had said.
"If you don't know what the Little Palace is, how long have you been dead?"
His frown deepened, "When last I was here, there was only the Grand Palace. This," he vaguely motioned to everything in general, "was all woods."
How old was the Little Palace?
She examined him. He looked only a little older than her. He must have died young.
"Was it painful?" her voice was hesitant, "Dying I mean."
"No more so than living." There was a hint of melancholy in the dark humor.
Alina felt a twinge of discomfort, aware that she had perhaps pried too far.
"I should return to the others," she looked over his shoulder at the corridor which led back where she had come and hesitated, "But would it be alright if we spoke again sometime?"
"You wish to?"
"Yes," a wry smile, "but I will need something to call you other than 'hey you.'"
After a long moment, he said, "Aleksander."
"Aleksander," she echoed back. His dark eyes seemed to flicker and she felt her heart quicken, "Another time then."
The man in black, Aleksander, shifted to the side, allowing her passage. As she passed he dipped his head with a level of reverence that made her cheeks warm. She still felt acutely aware of his gaze even with her back turned to him.
She paused at the end of the corridor.
"Aleksander?"
He hummed in acknowledgement.
"You don't need to keep your distance." she said then quickly turned down the hall.
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