Sea and Stars - a Nikolai Lantsov x OC fan fiction

2

A WEEK PASSED SMOOTHLY enough, and I started to grow more accustomed to Grisha life in Ravka. Meal times were helpful to bond with other Materialki, as everyone seemed required to sit amongst their Grisha orders in the dining hall, and technically I was a fabrikator, but making friends was a challenge all on its own.

No one seemed to want to associate themselves with the Fjerdan girl, and everyone seemed to find my very presence traitorous.

Not to mention, I have some strange power that no one's heard of, and it's not like I have chosen one prophecies and savior legends to back me up like she does.

I had to resist the urge to grimace every time I laid eyes on the famous Sun Summoner. It was unfair that she got the attention of the entire Second Army and the Darkling himself just because her power was discovered first.

Just because she was technically the one who's going to fix the Fold and reunite Ravka once again.

She wasn't anymore Ravkan than I was, so how was I the villain here?

I shook off the thoughts and replaced them with a reminder of why I was still here at all, lest I forget. I need to stay focused on getting stronger so I can go after the drüskelle and save my sister.

But just as I let the thoughts of Alina Starkov fade, she looked right at me. Her gaze asked a question, but it was lost on me.

She whispered to the girl next to her. Whatever the girl said back seemed to satisfy Alina's curiosity about me. I got a twisting feeling in my gut. I couldn't help but feel that I didn't belong.

I was an unskilled Fjerdan Grisha in the Ravkan capital, and despite my Ravkan heritage, I didn't grow up here. I was a foreign eighteen-year-old girl with a strange power that I never even knew I had.

And, because I kept letting myself forget, my twin was somewhere back home, either suffering at the hands of cruel drüskelle, or...

No, I refused to believe that she was dead. I would find her. I would save her, and kill the men who dare bring harm to her.

"Tell me about her," an Alkemi girl around my age said one day as they walked along the courtyard of the Little Palace. Her name was Natalya, and she introduced herself to me almost immediately after I started eating and training with the other Grisha. "Your sister. What is she like?"

"Her name is Ava. We're twins but I am older. She is... fun, and vibrant... full of life," I said back. "She is a Healer."

"A Healer? But..."

"But what?" I had to fight the urge to get defensive.

"Nothing, it's just... that's so ordinary. And you're so... well, different."

I shrugged, trying not to feel as though that was an insult. I was different, technically. I just didn't feel that way. Besides, I had always considered Ava to be the special one.

Of course, that was before I knew I could toy with starlight.

"My mother, she was a Healer as well."

"Was?"

I nodded, feeling the lump in my throat grow. I already regretted bringing it up. "She was found out by some witch-hunters when we were very young. My father," I added, hoping to change the subject and immediately regretting it, "he was a Fabrikator. A Durast, not anything strange like me, but a skilled one. He's wanted to take us to Ravka ever since it happened. We were finally on our way here when..."

"When they took Ava?"

I gave her a sharp nod. Too sharp, and she noticed.

"What happened to him?" Her voice dropped several octaves. I think she's scared to push my emotions, even though I brought him up.

"He tried to fight them off her, but..." the words caught in my throat, but I pushed through, "...they...they killed him, too. I barely got away."

"I'm sorry," the girl said, ignoring the part everyone else seemed to snag on when I'd tell the story. The part where I got away from highly practiced, strong Fjerdan soldiers with my untrained magic powers.

Not magic, I reminded myself. Small science. Whatever that means.

"It's alright," I whispered back. I hoped we could be done with conversation. I didn't like talking about how my family fell apart, and I certainly did not enjoy talking about my sister as though she was gone forever. I refused to believe I was the only one left.

I needed a plan.