When is it Enough

Chapter 4 - For Once, Aleksander Had No Answers

The Fold had destroyed land that suffered under the weight of the Black Heretic's merzost. Even the most talented gardeners couldn't make anything take to it. Water was almost non-existent. Rivers that had once flowed through the land before the Fold became unpredictable, flooding quickly and drying up as soon as the floodwaters receded, sinking into the porous ground. Where the Fold had sliced through the Sikurzoi, high winds battered the mountains like waves on a shore as they whisked away layers of sand, creating three-hundred-foot cliffs that partitioned the land and reduced proud mountains to rolling dunes. The ruins of Novokribirsk had sunk into the softened earth so the only remnants of the once bustling town were the hipped roofs and sharp spires of only the tallest buildings. It was as if the Fold had destroyed the soil so thoroughly, the sand reached the very core of the Earth and was slowly sucking everything down to it. Locals had started calling it the Wastes.

The Sun was unforgiving to the Sand Wastes, but only during high noon. In this part of the mountains, the cliffs occluded the sun for most of the day, so when Aleksander Morozova emerged from the darkness, all he saw was blue sky. He lay on his back for a moment, reveling in that sky. He had held it so dear to him in his torment that it seemed absurd that he got to bask in it now.

A soft chuckle burbled up in his throat which quickly evolved into a full-belly laugh. He laughed at the absurdity of it all. He- perhaps the man most undeserving of a second chance, a man the world hated twice over – had been granted one more opportunity. He got a reprieve from his hell. He laughed until he cried.

He lay there until he had drained himself of all that wild emotion. Then, slowly, he levered himself up. The world spun slightly but righted itself quickly enough. He looked at his hands. They were so soft and unscarred he barely recognized them. He felt his face for the familiar tears the nichevo'ya had rent into his face, but all he found was supple, soft skin. His continued investigation yielded the interesting discovery that he had no hair. Aleksander wondered wildly if this body even remotely resembled his old one. Vainly, he hoped that his hair would grow back.

He was also fully nude, and though there was no one around, Aleksander was deeply uncomfortable with it. He felt vulnerable. He was so used to wrapping layer after bulletproof layer around himself that nudity felt like an unwelcome reminder of how mortal he could very well find himself.

He tried to work up the strength to stand. Seven years without form can make a man forget how to wield his limbs, and he had next to no muscle memory. As he labored, the sun broke over the ridge, nearly blinding Aleksander. He had forgotten the heat of it, how it radiated off the ground and made the air dance in its heat. He had forgotten how much it reminded him of Alina. How he would stand in the sunlight in the days after she had absconded from the Little Palace, hoping to reclaim some of the energy that passed through their fingers when they touched. How it made his heart thrum in his chest when she called it to her palms, even when they faced off in battle.

He reached towards the sun like a man in search of salvation.

---

Alina came to with a searing pain in her head. She was covered in dirt and dust. An overturned trunk had crushed her left leg, pinning her in place. Uncontrolled fires had broken out around the camp. People were screaming. She lifted her hands to her ringing ears to block out the noise where she felt warm, sticky blood leaking from the back of her head.

Dazed, she watched as a figure approached her. She struggled to free herself from the trunk, but it was too heavy. Vision blurry, she watched as the figure, a man who carried himself like a soldier, knelt. He said something to her that she didn't understand. She shook her head delicately. He grabbed her arm roughly, fingers firmly encircling her wrist. On the thumb of his other hand, he wore a ring just like the ones the Grisha examiners used.