Rot ━ Mal Oretsev ✓

003: FRIGHT NIGHT

   "Grisha to the tent, now!"

General Berezovsky's voice shocks Thalia from her trance. She had been walking toward the Grisha tent and zoned out. Time to amend that. She lifts her head and spots Zaria across the grounds, the girl wiping her hands down on the inside of her purple Kefta and pushing back the wisps of her hair attempting to make way with the wind.

   "Thalia!" She shouts, grinning. Thalia puts on a timid smile for her, and the two meet midway toward the tent. Zaria hooks her arm through Thalia's without a second thought, leading the two the rest of the way to the tent. "I cannot wait to be on this Skiff, by the way. I never thought I'd see the day where chancing death would be appealing, but if it means I can escape Kirigan and his never ending list of demands for a few days, I'll take it."

Thalia thinks that is rather sad. Kirigan has a tendency to overwork Zaria to the point where Thalia has found her knocked out at her desk in the Durast workshop. She can understand and sympathise with the fact that Zaria would be happy to get away for a day or two, even if it meant going through the Fold to receive it.

"Corporalki over here!"

Thalia breathes a sigh, breaking off from Zaria and going to stand with her fellow Corporalki. Vladislav raises an awkward hand in greeting. "Hello, Thalia."

She nods in acknowledgement, "Vlad."

They hadn't been able to look one another in the eye since Thalia walked in on Vladislav and Hetty (his partner, lovely woman) doing. . . things at the Little Palace. It was entirely her own fault, really. She should've knocked first, but Thalia had been having such a bad day and didn't think twice before barging into the Heartrenders quarters. Neither Thalia, Vladislav or Hetty had discussed it since. Thalia had picked up a habit of knocking several times and loudly announcing her arrival before walking into any room, though.

"Right," Berezovsky booms, his voice projecting over the expanse of the tent. General Kirigan stood next to him in his black Kefta, his face as emotionless as it always is. "As you can see, General Kirigan has come to see you off today. We expect this trip to go off without a hitch, so I want all of you on your best behaviour and on guard at all times. I don't want to see I'm missing another Grisha when you return. Am I clear?"

Silence.

Berezovsky clears his throat pointedly, looking around the room for someone to speak, "Am I clear?"

"Clear, Sir," comes the unanimous echo.

"Good to hear," Berezovsky huffs. He turns his eye to General Kirigan, eyebrow raised. "Anything you'd like to say to the troops, General?"

General Kirigan looks across the room, his gaze sending an involuntary shiver down Thalia's spine. He always had a way of sucking the air out of any room he entered. He terrified her. Finally, Kirigan spoke. "Safe travels."

As the Grisha file out of the room, Zaria finds Thalia again, looking perplexed and utterly offended. "'Safe travels,' is he having a laugh? I know you're risking your life, and I know that I sit about doing nothing but hand out order after order, but I'm here to wish you safe travels!"

Thalia snorts, "Sounds about right. I don't believe there is any use in complaining, though. It's not as if one day he'll suddenly wake up realising he sits around doing nothing at all and decide to help us out a bit. It's as likely we'll find a Sun Summoner as it is for that to happen."

Zaria sighs wistfully, "Do not get my hopes up, Thalia. It will only end in heartbreak."

"A girl can dream, Zar," Thalia protests, her boots clunking heavily against the Fabrikator wood of the Skiff as they board. They approach Nia Savel'ev, who is doing check in of the Grisha boarding. "Alright, Nia?"