WORLD BURNING, kaz brekker (EDITING)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

The Crow and The Crown

❝ I'm no princess ❞

Graciela never felt at home in Ketterdam. She hadn't missed Ravka, it wasn't her home no matter if her title said so. But whereas Ravka had been too grand for her Ketterdam had been much too little.

Living in the Barrel for over two years she had heard of all the dark rumors surrounding the gangs. Of those many included Kaz "Dirtyhands" Brekker.

People have warned her about him, telling her to keep away. That she'd know who he is by his gloves and cane, and that he wasn't afraid of doing anything to anyone, including murdering an innocent such as herself.

So when passing by a boy that looked close to what had been described as that bastard of the barrel she knew not to treat it lightly. Graciela readied her knife just above her sleeve, still hidden away from sight, just in case there was danger to come.

She saw his thieving hands going from one pocket to the other, collecting kruge from every passersby. His slick, gloved fingers treating it as one would a deck of cards. Graciela couldn't help but wonder what cruelties he has caused with such hands such as those.

'It's just life at the Barrel I suppose.'

Avoiding his destination , she moved to the left, ripping a flyer of her stapled to a post along the way. Graciela looked back to see that he turned left as well.

Continuing her pace she suddenly stopped, realizing she bumped into the wall, dead end. She cursed herself for not paying more attention and risked another glance back to see him walking in the same direction. Walking towards her.

In one swift move she had her knife at hand pointing directly to his chest, but another move, this time from him, had her dropping it. Wrists twisted and cheek crushed to the wall, she can feel the blood leaking from the impact.

With gloved hands binding her own to his she had no choice but to let go, making her defenseless.

Or so he thought.

She attempted to use her power to conjure what she could. Remembering what the Darkling had been able to teach her— just enough for her to have little control but still she found herself losing that control many times. She found herself able to conjure a small fire, surprising him enough to loosen his grip. That light decision enough for her to escape.

And so the tables were turned.

Now as he was forced against the wall, knife to his neck (Graciela wasn't dumb enough to not hide another knife of course), she had questions and he had the answers.

"What do you want."

He let out a small chuckle, no fear in his eyes.

And as soon as she captured him, he did so back to her. Twisting her hand and pushing her own knife into her palm causing her to break the grip she had on him. Her hand bled and left her unable to use her magic.