fₒᵣ ᵢ ₐₘ bₑcₒₘₑ dₑₐₜₕ, dₑₛₜᵣₒyₑᵣ ₒf wₒᵣₗdₛ
Anastasia Morozova is a kinslayer. Anya Varamyr is a murderer. Anastasia is a decorated soldier. Anya is a backstreet cutthroat. Anastasia would die for her country. Anya would die for her friends.
Anastasi...
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♥✎ ✲❁✰❄✫✾✹✾✷❂✷✬✶❄✲ 🐙ൠ
Anya trudged down through the dark cemetery, throwing her cutlass down on a crumbling tombstone and slumping down beside it. Tears of frustration began to well up in her eyes. If she wasn't able to withstand Kaz's snide remarks, what would she do when it wasn't someone she trusted standing in her way?
"Why so glum?" the voice asked, though this time it wasn't in her head. "Bad day?"
Anya turned to glare at the dark flickering form of the man sitting next to her. "I went all the way to Fjerda, and of all things - I came back with you. Did our mother curse me as a child?"
"We Morozovas are all cursed," he said with a cold smirk. "Or blessed, rather. Blessed with incomparable power. If only you'd let me show you how to use it."
Anya scoffed and flicked her hair over her shoulder, eyes madly darting over her brother's shadowed form. "Last time I put my trust in you, I put a hole in the world and spent the better part of three centuries rotting away in a tower. I'd take freedom over power any day, brother."
"Where are we now, exactly?" he asked, feigning concern. "An abandoned cemetery, is it? Hiding away from everyone and everything? This is what freedom is?"
"Freedom is the absence of restraint," Anya whispered glumly, pulling at the ends of her gloves. She was getting cold in only her little dress and that horrendous coat of hers. "No Darkling, no chains."
"And yet here I am," he grinned, spreading his arms wide. "I'm offering you a chance to redeem yourself, Nastya. Power is freedom, and I can show you how to wield it so that no one will ever touch you again."
Anya laughed bitterly. She wasn't falling for this; not anymore. "I've been living in Ketterdam for a while now, Aleksander. It's amazing how much you can learn just from watching. I've learnt enough to never trust another word that comes out of your mouth."
The figure leaned forwards and reached to her with his hand. She hadn't expected him capable of making physical contact. A shiver ran down her spine as he held the side of her face in his palm. "You never did listen to me, sister. We could have moved planets, vanished stars, changed the tides."
Anya glared at him and her broken voice turned to a whisper. "I have no desire to change the world, Aleksander. It's fully capable of changing all by itself, and you won't be here to see it."
