Better than a Witch | A Darklina Retelling

Not A Simple Means

Trust me. Trust him. That's what he asked of me. It could be simple. Yet, I couldn't make it so. I didn't know if I have ever trusted anyone but myself. Well, maybe Mal. He was my whole world at one point. Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if there hadn't been a war, if I wouldn't have thrown my whole life away to follow him wherever he wanted.

I tried to contact him. I wrote him a letter nearly everyday. I was so sure he would have responded by now. There were so many places in the Little Castle I wanted to take him to. I even wanted to introduce him to Baghra, even if she would only hit him with her stick. Maybe I wanted her to hit him with her stick.

He should have responded by now.

"You would not believe-" Genya came in bubbling with gossip but cut herself off when she saw me. I couldn't guess how I looked. It had been long enough since her last tailoring when I had gone to see the Darkling that I knew it was fading and my real skin was showing again- blemishes and all.

She sat down on the bed beside me now with her arm on my shoulder. There I knew she would sit until my breathing regulated and the tears dried on my cheeks. She never pried much into my life before the Little Palace, but maybe that was because I knew she didn't want to talk about her own life.

But I didn't want the comfort anymore. I cried almost all the time when I wasn't in training. I didn't even know I was some of the time. So instead of letting her slow my heart rate to calm me down I did what I used to.

I held my breath.

My throat began to burn but I held on. Just a few more seconds. Then I could breathe again. Then my lungs will steady and my heart won't ache. Then I will be fine. Just a few more seconds.

"You really should let me help you, your method scares me," Genya scolded.

"My method works," I replied, speaking for the first time. I bit my lip again. I had something to ask her but didn't want to. Maybe I could drag out the seconds. A few more moments before I ask for a favor I don't deserve. One I shouldn't want. I should let him go.

"Genya-" I started but I let the word slip from my lips. I took another breath to steel myself. "I need something."

"Oh good, I was hoping you'd ask. My work is good but it definitely doesn't last forever."

"No! Not about my looks, thank you very much." I swatted at her hands to keep them from touching and instantly beautifying me. "It's, um, about my letters."

"Oh," Genya said. Whether she was disappointed in my request or the denial of letting her tailor me I couldn't tell.

"I know you know I send Mal letters everyday," I began. "And well, he hasn't responded at all. So I was hoping you could look into where he is stationed."

"You think you're sending them to the wrong post?" she questioned.

"Possibly. Oh, I know how it must look but I just needed to ask; to see."

"Of course," Genya said, bowing her head. Then she reached out her arm again and placed her hand gently on my face. I thought it was sweet until I felt my skin begin to itch.

"Genya!" I called out laughing.

"Oh I'm sorry but honestly honey it needed something"

"That is not a real apology," I pointed out. I was standing on the bed now to keep my distance from her hands.

"I don't feel that guilty," she shrugged.

I looked down on her disapprovingly. Still I sat down back down but remembered to keep my distance. I wasn't really concerned about how I looked. Everyone could see at training how weak I am. How much I really don't belong.

My training still hasn't improved. If anything I was getting worse. Everyday more bruises covered my body, and my muscles seemed to never be able to adjust to this new life of work and training. I was just slowed down by growing injuries.

Some of the other Grisha snicker at me. They say it's my fault for not being found earlier, that maybe had I had real training as a kid like the rest of them I could at least be average. Others, however, don't really say anything at all.

I think they are afraid of him. And maybe afraid of what will happen if I can't learn to be stronger. If I never become good enough. If the fold stays forever.

It would probably bring the end of all Grisha. Here in Ravka they were once to be respected supposedly. Then centuries ago the Black Herotic created the fold. Now the First and Second army dewindles from a century of war.

It isn't better in neighboring countries. In Fjerda north of Ravka the Grisha are hunted as evil witches as part of a religious movement. Then south, the Shu use the Grisha as experiment parts. Even further away in the rumored safer countries there's always a fear of slavery, kidnaption, and of course, death.

The Grish will never be safe. Not if I can't save them.

That's what the Darkling and all the others want from me. They want protection and a place to feel secure. They want to never have to live on the run, or be constantly in fear. It's a simple want, but not a simple means.

I don't think I can give it to them.

"Hey now," Genya said, breaking me from my thoughts. "Don't look like that. I said yes to your request so now you have to gossip with me. It's mandatory."

I smiled at Genya. She was right. Besides, she always knows the best gossip on everyone.

"Give it to me."

"Okay well first, there's the whole business with the Darkling," She said with a wink.

"Really?" I said, trying to keep my voice level. I needed to appear at the right level of interest. Yet, the look that washed over Genya's face told me I failed.

"Well, you know how he's been away on a business trip for the past couple of weeks?"

"Of course," I replied. It was almost the next day after we had talked that he had disappeared. It had taken me a couple of days of eavesdropping on the maids conversations to learn he was just away on another tour of the military posts throughout the country. The same kind of trip that had put him in Kribisk when I was crossing the fold. Or tried to.

"Well, supposedly this trip was totally made up. It wasn't on the King's schedule or anything. As if the Darkling is just using it as a cover."

"A cover for what," I asked.

"That's the question," Genya laughed. "Some say it's a secret mission to find missing Grisha, others say it's to meet a special friend."

"Oh." I couldn't even hide the disappointment that filled my voice. Even though I know it shouldn't even be there. You just asked about Mal. Get a grip.

"I wouldn't worry," Genya offered. "People make up rumors like that all the time. I think it's just because they are all jealous he isn't banging them with his eyes like he does to you."

"Ugh! Can you stop," I laughed trying to hide my embarrassment. I picked up a pillow and threw it at her. He certainly doesn't look at me that way.

"Okay! Okay!" Genya defended, raising her arms up in a form of surrender. "I guess I can talk about something else."

She launched into a new story. Something about a maid who was spending a lot of time cleaning one of the upper Corporalki's bedroom or flying ships off the coast of Novyi Zem. Whatever the new gossip was, I could not pay attention to any of it.

My mind was a battle ground. Fighting between thoughts of Mal and him. I shouldn't think of him. Especially not wrapped up in bed with another girl touching his skin. No- especially not that. It wasn't my place to.

Though I didn't know if it was my place to think about Mal either. He was my childhood best friend, and I always pictured it turning into more but I couldn't push away this feeling of him drifting away.

It wasn't just that I was at the Little Palace now. It had started long before that. Maybe that's why he wasn't responding to my letters.

Maybe he was done with me the second they labeled me Grisha.