of snakes & crows || kaz brekker

─ 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

[07|| chapter seven]
where does your
loyalty lie, snake?

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

━━━━ AFTER BEING KNOCKED unconscious, Eadaz Viottova dreamt of her time at the Little Palace.

One memory in particular, actually, the one that took place a few days before she realized that everything she'd come to trust was built out of lies.

         She was freshly eighteen, now snobby and entitled— a side effect of being a chess piece for the general, always assured she was important when she was truly just another pawn— as opposed to angry and spiteful. A compliant little teenager who thought she was better than the others, just the way Kirigan wanted her.

Ead had been called from her training with Botkin to see said General, who'd just returned from dealing with some business in Kribirsk— probably something to do with the great number of casualties in the Second Army, which was becoming more and more common now that the Fjerdans were getting ballsier. Eadaz herself was supposed to be out fighting on the northern frontlines, but after a close encounter with a horde of ruthless Drüskelle she was recovering with those who remained in her unit—which was hard, because there weren't many survivors.

Eadaz wore her scarlet kefta with pride, her back straight, eyes forward as she walked through the halls with a slight bounce in her step. She hadn't been feeling well the past few days in terms of her mental health, especially with all of the death happening around her (still new to the war, she didn't think she'd ever find the picture of a friend dying before her eyes an easy pill to swallow), so she was sure seeing the General would lift her spirits.

The past few times she'd seen General Kirigan had been a bit awkward, after... an event she'd since erased from her mind, but now she was sure they could return to their normal selves. He could comfort her, remind her of the bigger purpose they were serving, and that everything was not for naught. He was good at that— what past Ead would consider reassuring, but what present Ead knew was manipulation.

         Once outside of his office her knuckles tapped on his door in a familiar pattern— knock, pause, then twice more.

His voice was muffled, but still powerful. "Come in."

         This is how she remembered General Kirigan. How he'd always look now, in the present, past, and even in that of which she never actually witnessed him— that is to say in the stories. He was tall and proud, with eyes as black as the shadows he manipulated, and a chin full of precisely trimmed scruff. He was still wearing his dark kefta, hair brushed back, but falling forward into his eyes as he leaned against the table.

         "Oh, it's you." He said with distaste as she entered the room quietly. He was hovering over a map of Ravka, but she could tell he'd been rifling through a mess of papers because everything was unorganized. "I rescind my words. Please, do not come in."

         A grin was growing on Eadaz's face, her feet picking up pace as she charged at him. She laughed as she began to throw punches and kicks at him, all of which he sidestepped and blocked. The weariness faded from his face and he smiled in return, though it was never as bright as hers. He shoved her arm away as she punched at his torso lazily, and spun her around to pull her into a gentle headlock. He rubbed his knuckles into her hair, which made her gasp.