Disclaimer: I do not own any elements/characters of the Grisha saga or content of Shadow and Bone. The Shadow and Bone trilogy is created by Leigh Bardugo and owned by Netflix. This fanfiction is intended for intertainment purposes only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original grishaverse belong to the author, Leigh Bardugo.

Chapter 1: Urgency on the northern front

Most Ravkans would tell you that there was no reason to head up north towards Ferdja. Between the bitter cold, the hard frozen soil and the regular tensions with Ferdjans, you would have to be downright mad to head up there unless you had an obligation to. It was one such good reason that had led a part of the first and second army to be dispatched towards Chenast 6 months ago. The soldiers that had been named were not looking forward to wearing their fur-lined uniforms, which kept the worst of the cold away but froze easily at negative temperatures, which made quick movements difficult.
They did not look forward to getting closer than they were already to the others of their battalion during the night, keeping their bodies touching under their sleeping bags for warmth. They did not look forward to eating salted fish, rye bread and sweet tea for weeks on end. Thank goodness for the ration of kvas they were allowed to indulge on a few rare occasions.
However, most did not complain. They preferred to die as men fighting on their two feet rather than to be sent into the Fold to be torn apart by Volcra.

Base camp has been set up about an hour away from Chenast, at the foot of the mountains in a treeless valley so that all who approached camp could be seen from far away. It had taken hours to set up the tents, the ground frozen deep in the ground.
Snow was as regular and it was not uncommon to see wolves skulking around for a few scraps of food. Most tents were large enough to accommodate a battalion each, with rows upon rows of cots for the soldiers.
The cantine was central to the camp, to protect their food supply from thieves or animals. The first and second army infirmaries were on opposite ends but on the outside of camp, so that the wounded could be brought easily to them. The tents which were made of multilayered white cotton, were even whiter with the frost. Only one black tent stood out amongst the others.

General Kirigan was overlooking the last incoming messages from the battlefield near Chenast, placing the newer elements onto the map unrolled on the makeshift wooden table that had been lent by one of the farmhouses nearby. It was already stained by candlewax from candles used to permit late-night meetings. It did little to make the black tent any more welcoming. This battle was supposed to be a bluff, an easy-to-finish, swift event that should not have lasted weeks on end as it had. The Ferdjans had become increasingly bold by making backhanded quick violent moves on cargo holds and Ravkan emissaries. Preliminary negotiations had failed and their opponents had insinuated that they intended to move slowly towards Os Alta. The General had believed that a brutal show of force would be enough to calm the attacks. This had been efficient previously, however he was surprised to find that the Ferdjans had changed their offense from previous battles. This was not two solid armies meeting on an empty plain until the number of casualties gave the victory to one side or the other. These were sneak attacks in the dead of night or off abandoned roads, tiring Ravkan troops and leaving them enerved at every unknown terrain they entered. The rhythm was relentless, they would try a new approach, a new skirmish would ensue and they were left with many wounded or dead. The general sighed as he sat down to overlook the maps. He was not looking forward to the report to be made to the Tsar. The King was incompetent in warcraft but was very insistent in maintaining the Grand Palace and his family secure. So he sent the General and the second army to support the first army on the northern front.

Alexhander knew this was a waste of Grisha time. This cat-and-mouse game was a tough problem to solve. If only he had a tailor at hand, then they could have used his spies to have a better grip on the situation. As it was, tailors are quite rare and hard to come by, so Alexhander was currently feeling as if he was walking in the dark. He did not usually mind the darkness. As a shadow summoner it had always been a reassuring element to know he could hide what he wished, whenever he wished it. The darkness instilled fear in his enemies which was also an advantage he liked to wield. However, this situation, not knowing what each day would bring, was a void of knowledge the general despised. he had observed that the Ferdjans seemed to know where they would be and what they planned to do, which could mean two things. The leader of the attacks was a military genius or someone in the Ravkan army was selling important sensible information to the enemy. He could only control one of these elements and so he had made every general and officer submit to a heartrender for interrogation. All had told the truth and none had shown to have intentionally leaked any plans or strategies. At least they had been able to keep the fighting off of Tsibeya. Losses would have been even more catastrophic with the frozen tundra.
Delivering food and supplies from Os alta was already challenging as it was, it would become impossible to ensure it on such landscape.

As Alexhander was about to summon yet again the general of the first army, a headstrong and weathered greying old man answering my the name of General Biryukov, when a young Alkemi burst into the tent, closely followed by one of his Oprichnik. The young man was breathless and frightened. Before general Kirigan could properly stand from his chair, his personal guard Konstantin blurted out " I'm sorry general, I tried to hold him but he seems to say it is a matter of life or death". The general took a second to build his composure. If indeed this was an urgent matter, then better to keep one's head cool. He turned to look at the young man. His purple winter kefta was stained with blood and soot, his boots stained with mud and snow. He recognized the arm cuff made of white cotton with the Ravkan crest. The first and second army had agreed with the high number of casualties, that healers or other volunteers in the infirmary tents where to be easily identified as such.

Alexhander believed few clear words were the best way of getting quick information. "Speak," he said gently to the boy who was holding his ribcage as if he had run a great distance. " Moi General, I come from the infirmary's main tent, we need your best heartrender urgently", said the boy between two heavy breaths. He was sweating and quite pale. That was an odd request and Alexhander did not know what to make of it. "for what purpose? My corporalki have other important matters at hand", drawled the general. This did not seem to discourage the young alkemi, probably no older than 18 years of age, " General, it's the prince! He is heavily wounded and we need a heartrender! He has lost a lot of blood and his heartbeat weakens by the second!". Alexhander did not need a heartrender at this moment to know the boy was telling the truth. If the prince died on his watch, the Tsar would have his head.
He looked at Konstantin, " Call Igor to the main infirmary as well as an able healer. I will go there myself with the boy. NOW!". " Yes, Moi general", Konstantin left in an instant and the boy led the way, his walk almost a skip, trying not to run so the general could follow. He could not believe he had barged into the general's tent. His teacher would have his ear after this.

As the alkemi walked quickly through the maze of tents, bustling men and crates, Alexhander asked " what's your name?". the Alkemi proudly stated " Luka Moi General, at your service".
He tried to salute as he was walking, which made for an almost comical position. Alexhander liked the young student already. "Tell me, Whose idea was it to call a heartrender for a weak heart? Why not ask for a healer?". Luka took a sharp left behind the cantine to which the general followed. The few men finishing their meals stood up and saluted, to which the general nodded politly, keeping his pace. Luka looked onwards as he answered " It was lady Kara's idea moi Tsar, she is the head healer for the first army." Alexhander frowned. He has never heard of a medical condition when a heartrender would be more appropriate than a healer. The fact that Luka had applied his voice with insistance on "lady" to talk of this healer showed his admiration for this Otkazat'sya which was very unusual for a Grisha. "I've never heard of this lady Kara. Do you trust in her judgment?", Alexhander said quickening his pace. Luka took a right turn towards a barn which had been converted to an infirmary for the first army. " She's the best healer they have in the first army. The prince's captain of the guard insisted on bringing him there rather than to call on Grisha. The second army infirmary was just too far away". General Kirigan huffed at that remark, his breath appearing as white vapor in the cold air. It was a stupid thing to do out of lack of time to not call upon a Grisha. A healer mastering the little science was infinitely better than any medically competent Otkazat'sya.

They finally arrived at the entrance of the infirmary where they were greeted by a scene of horror. Makeshift beds full of burned, bleeding men, some nursing broken bones or screaming out in agony. Luka payed no attention to the wounded, but Alexhander could tell by the way his shoulder's tensed that he was affected by what he saw. He's just a boy, thought the general. " How is it that you were within calling distance of the head healer here?" Alexhander pressed on through to the back of the infirmary. "I thought Grisha volunteers were to stay in the second army infirmary to be called upon if need be." Luka pushed a door that revealed a second portion of the barn with others wounded, someone was yelling out orders urgently nearby. " Lady Kara, negotiated with our head healer to always have a runner, a volunteer student Grisha in case of emergencies. She says that first army reticence to call upon us is stupid". Alexhander could only agree to that.
As he was going through the door, he caught sight of Igor and Ania, a promising young Grisha healer running into the infirmary. He signaled his position and ushered them into the backroom. Luka lead them through another door where the prince layed on a bed of hay. A young woman, not much older than 25 summers in age, was compressing and releasing pressure on the prince's chest. Alexhander had never seen this done on the wounded, and he could see by the young healer's surprise that it was new to her too. The lady looked in their direction and yelled " where is the heartrender?! I need him NOW!". Igor pushed the young alkemi aside and placed himself on the otherside of the prince, removing his gloves. He looked at the lady and asked urgently. "what must I do?"
The woman continued the compressions, her voice wavering with fatigue " His heart stopped just a moment ago. We were able to stop the bleeding but his heart failed in the process. I need you to restart his heart." Igor grew pale, " I can stop a heart easily but I don't know if I can start one, I've never had to before". The woman's hand flew out to grab Igor by the fur collar of his kefta. " If you don't try, the prince dies and we both lose our heads! So do it!". Alexhander could only admire the authority eminating from the lady. Her cheeks were red from the constant effort of compressing, a strand of blond hair falling from the tie at the back of her head. She wore first army winter uniform with a blood stained apron. She had the white cotton armcuff just like Luka and Ania. Igor took a deep breath and positioned himself over the prince's chest.
The lady stopped the compressions and grabbed Igor's hand and placed it on her juggular vein on her neck. " This is the rythm you need to provoke in his heart", she said with insistance. "
you hear it? Ba-BOOM, ba-BOOM, Ba-BOOM, not faster, not slower". Igor took a second to imprint the rythm in his mind and than placed his hands over the prince. He signed as all heartrender's learned at the little palace and combined several gestures in a complex formation. The lady meanwhile, had grabbed the prince's wrist and closed her eyes. Alexhander realised he had been observing without action and quickly turned to Ania, saying softly " go to the prince's side, he will need healing if the bleeding caused his heart to fail". she nodded and kneeled to the lady's side, examining the prince's wounds.

" I can feel it!" exclaimed the lady relieved. " it's beating!". The captain and general within the room sighed in relief. The tension in the air was slowly released. " he's breathing again" added Ania releaved.
"Saints" said one of them, wipping sweat from his brow. Igor finished with a flourished wave of the hand and sat on his heels, exhausted. He looked in awe at the lady, "how did you know?
How did you know a heartrender could save him? I had no knowledge of such practice". the lady chuckled nervously, " It was worth a try and it worked. that's what matters." She looked tired but her eyes were sparkling with contentment. Ania began to sign over the prince's body as she had identified the healing needed. She was frowning in concentration. The young alkemi, smiled turned to the general "I told you she's brilliant". Alexhander mused and answered " so it seems".

Once it was shown that the prince was out of any danger and resting, Alexhander stepped out of the infirmary. Something about the scene he had observed had rattled him. It was not the near loss of the prince's life or the extent of his wounds. The young head healer was a puzzle. She seemed to have foreign medical practices. He had never seen compression's of a man's chest to keep a man alive.
He had never heard of a heartrender capable of bringing a man back from the brink of death. Igor came to standby him as well as Ania. All three were silent for a moment, reliving what had happened.
"well..." started Igor, at a loss for words, pulling his gloves back on. " ...She's brilliant" Ania added. Both men turned to her, waiting. " well isn't she?" she seemed slightly vexed which surprised alexhander.
" what bothers you Ania?" he asked softly. Ania thought for a moment, " I've never seen the likes of her. The prince was lacerated in several places. there was no way he should not have bled to death."
She crossed her arms, looking at her feet, " my intervention was close to useless", she muttered. The general knew Ania to be very good at her craft so it was disturbing to hear such a thing from her. "what do you mean?" he searched her face for an emotion and found confusion. " When I examined the prince, the lacerations were still there but the bleeding had stopped. When I looked, the wound had been sutured and cauterized to perfection. All I did was finish healing the skin and muscles to avoid the prince a few ugly scars and a couple weeks in bed". Igor and the general looked at each other perplexed. Ania chuckled coldly, "I'm second place to an Otkazat'sya healer, who would have thought". Without another word, she stormed away through the snow in direction of the second army infirmary.

Igor laughed then " I never thought I'd see the day where Ania admits defeat to an opposing healer". Alexhander nodded, Ania was the best healer they had. She had a temper, but it was worth dealing with considering her talent. " I'd like to have a word with the head healer," he said turning to his guard. " You can head back to your tent, I'll call for you for tonight's meeting."
Igor shook his head, " with all due respect Moi general, I cannot leave you by yourself". Alexhander stared, irritated. " I may not be part of your Oprichnik but my mission is to keep you safe in their absence". The general breathed through his nose slowly to calm the growing annoyance. " I appreciate your loyalty Igor, but I will be fine. I can look after myself here". Igor hesitated, wanting to insist.
His shoulder's sank as he agreed and slowly made his way to the other side of camp. "Igor", Alexhander called out after a thought, " the prince would be dead if not for your intervention". Igor took the compliment in stride " It wasn't my idea moi General. I didn't know I had it in me".