𝕬𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝕷𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖞 - [𝗞𝗮𝘇 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗸𝗸𝗲𝗿]

𝐱𝐱𝐱. 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘮

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 — home sweet ketterdam

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 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐊𝐒𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 expected to taste anything other than that bitter twang at the back of her throat. War wasn't sweet. It didn't taste of honey and lemon and all things filled with tooth-rotting sugar. It tasted of blood and smoke.

 She couldn't quite tell how long it had been when she'd last seen the docks of Ketterdam, when she'd last squinted through the perpetual fog shrouding the dull little city to which she called home. But Aleksa knew it had been months. It had been far too long.

 It was almost a stranger to her now, to see the gloom of Ketterdam standing just as tall and as crooked as ever; she had grown used to the Palace, being surrounded by jewels and princes and Grisha donning their woven Kefta's.

 But the plan had always been to come back to Ketterdam, to come home. Ketterdam would always be Aleksa's home, no matter how long she stayed away... only now, it felt as though she was staring at the crooked city through a stranger's eyes.

 So much had changed for her. So much that the world would never truly know about. They were secrets that shouldn't ever be told, if only to keep the fragile peace afloat.

 "I truly cannot fathom why you'd want to return here." Zoya Nazyalensky sneered, her elbows suddenly planted on the ship's edge beside Aleksa's. Her wondrous and sleek black hair whipped around her in a flurry, positively darting from the salty sea air, "You were chosen to lead the second army, but you chose... this?"

 "I don't see why you're complaining, Zoya," Aleksa sighed, her eyes remaining fixated on the looming smog. The sea waves were choppy today, actually, they had been for the entire journey, "I chose you to take my place."

 "Obviously. Who else would be better suited?"

 That was when dear Genya sauntered to their sides. The gleaming sun sewn upon her eyepatch managed to cut through the dark haze above, "Anybody else."

 "Hush now, Genya."

 "Tell me to be quiet one more time, and I'll give you a grey hair." Genya wiggled her fingers. She was far more than capable of making such a change, and making it stick. Aleksa hadn't ever met a better Tailor in all of Ravka, nor Kerch.

 Zoya blinked, "You wouldn't dare. I'd send you on your way with a hurricane at your tail."

 "Alright, children." Yet another voice came, this one belonged to Petra Meier. She was a young Grisha, no older than eighteen... yet her abilities were far beyond her years. As a Tidemaker, she could twist the ocean waves, she could unsettle a lake's surface and whip it against her foes. She had always reminded Aleksa of Inej, so kind and strong, yet so very motherly.