this action will have no echo.

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CHAPTER TWO:"mati en sheva yelu"

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CHAPTER TWO:
"mati en sheva yelu"





IT WOULD BE MONTHS BEFORE THE loud-mouthed privateer would surface once again and in that time, as all good leaders did, Mercy had focused her attention on tormenting those unfortunate enough to cross the Immaculata's path to the utmost degree.

It was through the carelessly discarded correspondence of captains that she kept up to date with the comings-and-goings of the world beyond the water, a world she would rather forget existed entirely. Through snippets of letter and quite frankly, appalling handwriting, it wasn't hard to discern that something was stirring across the seas.

The scrawls spoke of unrest in Os Alta, unease within the Second Army and a threat to the throne that was no surprise to anyone who had inhabited the Little Palace. But, Mercy couldn't deny that whatever this illustrious Sun Summoner meant for Ravka would be entertaining enough to watch from the comfort of the Immaculata's deck. Perhaps a tankard of kvas to keep her company whilst she watched the Lantsov's and the Darkling burn each other to the ground.

It was a beautiful thought.

They docked in Ravka, shrouded in silence and coated in darkness to shield them from prying eyes. Despite their careful approach, Mercy ( although she would never speak it aloud ) could barely summon the courage to set foot on the cursed land. She had the misfortune of forming a reputation for herself long before she'd deserted the Second Army and in Ravka - a reputation like her's could get you killed. Or worse.

So, she feigned some kind of sickness, praying that Aarav knew too little about grisha to counter with the well-known fact that those with her gifts could never fall ill. With some luck and cleverly timed coughing fits, she was able to avoid having to face the past. That was, until night fell and that small curious part of her soul began to yearn for the country she had abandoned. So, when the moon had peaked in the sky and the drunken carolling of her crew had died down, Mercy stepped out onto the deck.

The world was quiet. Quiet in a way that could bring peace to those who weren't familiar with the monsters that hid in the silence and Mercy eyed the docks with a tentative fear in her eyes. It was just land. This dreaded country had no hold on her anymore. It was just land and dirt and ice and water and nothing more.

A stirring in the foliage nearby nearly sent her rushing back to her quarters like some scared child behind her mother's skirts and she almost cursed herself to oblivion for being this weak. She was a coward, yes. Cursed to run for the rest of her life, undoubtedly. But she was not afraid.

And with that, she dropped from the familiar wood of the Immaculata to the sands of Ravka. Mercy held her breath, waiting for the demons with their keftas and their shadows to spring from the earth and drag her back to Hell but there was nothing.

ROUGH WATERS , nikolai lantsovWhere stories live. Discover now