Where The Spirit Meets The Bone

Forty-three: Mal Oretsev, Past

Forty-three:

Mal Oretsev, Past

When they got back to Keramzin, Mal took up gardening. He spent years of his life taking it. They put a rifle in his hand as a boy, and told him to go find life, then snuff it out. He used to find rabbits to hold onto for comfort. For a friend. Then he found rabbits to slit their throats and cook over a warm fire for his soldier friends before they marched into battle to kill something larger than rabbits.

They took care of the orphans. Him, and Alina. They came from villages and cities all over Ravka. Places where there was nothing left but rubble. They spent long days teaching them, making sure they were clothed, and fed, and happy. They had not had children of their own yet. He wasn't sure they would, even though they had married, didn't know if Alina.... didn't know if Alina could, after everything that had happened with her powers and him.

If Alina was bothered by it, she didn't let it show. She liked holding chalk in her hand instead of rifles, she told him frequently. She liked waking to the sound of childish laughter in the halls. Knowing that they were giving homes for the orphans, even though she hadn't been able to be the savior that they needed to be.

It was a good life. It was simple. There was no blood, no glory, no sainthood. Only them, their love, and the home they had made for themselves and others. He brought life with his hands. He liked getting his hands dirty to make something pretty, instead of making something bleed.

Sometimes, at night, he would hear Alina get up. She would go to the window and look out it as if there was someone out there that she was looking for. "Alina," he would say from their bed, "are you alright?"

Alina would glance over at him and smile. "I'm fine. I just can't sleep. There's a ticking."

"A ticking?" he said.

"A ticking," she said.

"You've got a migraine again. Come to bed."

She glanced out the window, as if she could see someone or something out there in the darkness. "It's getting worse," she said as she walked quietly back to their bed.

"What is?" he asked.

"The Fold," she said, "it's growing. I can feel it. It aches."

Mal narrowed his eyes. "It aches? Alina, The Fold isn't alive. The Fold is----"

She was asleep. That was when Mal heard the ticking. Tick, tick, tick. He shook his head. He had a migraine too. He went back to sleep.

It happened every so often. The same thing. Alina, up at night. Looking out at the darkness as if there were something calling to her that she could hear. When he knew the truth. There was nothing but shadow and darkness. It was after nights like that Mal took to the flowerbeds that he kept outside of the orphanage. He got his hands deep in the soil, and he made things bloom. It kept the shadows at bay.

Especially when he thought that they were moving.

It had happened once, during an evening where he was cooking dinner for the children. He went to the pantry to grab something, a candle in his hand to get more flour for the bread. There was a long shadow and it seemed to.... dance in the candlelight. To get nearer to him. To reach for the light, to reach for him.

But shadows weren't alive. They couldn't be. He knew that. Of course, he had seen Saints, and soldiers that used magic, and...Alina was being kept awake at night by a ticking that wasn't there, and telling him things like The Fold felt pain.

He had been in the flowerbeds for an hour, turning over the soil, watering, and trimming. The sunlight beat down on his neck when he heard the sound of a carriage pull up. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw the royal carriage.

The door swung open, and first Zoya came, then Nikolai. The young King walked towards him, his shadow falling over Mal. Nikolai's shadow didn't dance. Nikolai's shadow wasn't alive. Nikolai's shadow was just a shadow as it was supposed to be.

The King smiled down at him. "Hello, Tracker."

Mal stood up from his spot on the ground, and he brushed away the dirt from himself. "You're here about the ticking, aren't you?"

Nikolai looked surprised. If it had been about anything else, Mal would have liked seeing Nikolai surprised. "What ticking?"

Mal sighed. "Come on. Alina's inside. She's teaching."

He was about to go and take the King inside, when Alina appeared in the main doorway of the house.

Nikolai looked up at her and smiled. "Alina..." his face dimmed when he saw her. "Are you...."

"You're here about The Fold, aren't you?" she said. "I can feel it."

Nikolai raised an eyebrow, and he tilted his head to the side. "You can feel....."

"And the ticking," she said, "come on inside, Nikolai. I imagine you've got some kind of plan. You always do, Fox Prince."

"King," he reminded her, "I am King now as everyone seems to forget. But yes, I do have a plan."