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
Before Jesper, Matthias and Kuwei could blink, Anya Varamyr was no more and the World Ender was soaring out through the stone roof of the mausoleum with a bloodcurdling screech.
"Leave me alone!" she tried to scream, but all that came out was a mangled cry. The man floating beside her only laughed and followed her as she hurtled through the sky. "Go to hell!"
"That's no way to talk to family," the Darkling smirked, reappearing on her other side. The World Ender landed on a tiled roof with a mighty crash, sending clay fragments tumbling to the ground below. Wrapping her arms around her knees she screwed her eyes shut and tried to will him away. Another frustrated scream left her darkened lips. "You've lost control," he cooed, shifting closer. "How many times must I tell you, little sister? I can help you take it all back."
No, never! Anya screamed in her mind, but the World Ender could only writhe amongst the broken tiles. A familiar tugging sensation pulled at her gut, but her eyes refused stay the same colour, no matter how hard she tried to remain in her human form. Somewhere across the city, Kaz Brekker grunted in confusion as the knife in his pocket scorched his skin through his shirt.
The Darkling's eyes flickered with ice cold flames. "It would be so easy," he hissed. "All you need do is take the dagger and plunge it into my heart. You've always wanted to do that, haven't you Nastya?"
"You'll never touch it," Anya managed to croak, words painfully mangled as she struggled to remain conscious. "I don't have it."
The Darkling looked up at the skies with a quiet groan. "Oh Nastya, tell me you haven't handed another piece of yourself over to some unsuspecting otkazat'sya whose caught your fancy. It's time to grow up."
The water. The World Ender could hear the call of the water in the harbour below; singing, screaming for her to come down. She scrambled to the edge of the roof, tattered remains of her shirt fluttering in the wind, bandages peeling away from her darkened skin.
"There's no one else like you and I," the cold voice called after her as she wobbled on the edge, dark wings limp behind her. "We need not be alone for the rest of eternity when we have each other."
If she'd been Anastasia Morozova, or even Anya Varamyr, maybe she would have turned to give her brother the time of day. But there stood the World Ender, and she had little time for mere human sentiments. Instead, she let out a hateful cry and flung herself down into the raging, grey waves - towards the call of the water. Ulla.
