The rain pelted down over the weary traveller, like bullets digging into his skin. But he didn't care. No. The only thought on Ivan's mind was to find Fedyor. He had already lost his father to the war, and might as well have lost his uncle and two brothers. He could not lose Fedyor. Saints... he would rather die. Screw the Darkling's orders about being inconspicuous. He ran, ran to where his other half was. His better half.
He could hear the rest of his squad running far behind him, but they did not run with the same need, the same desperation that he did. To save a loved one. Ivan tried. He really tried. But even he, the stone-faced Oprichnik, skilled member of the Corporalki, a powerful Heartrender, fell for his comrade, his partner. Fedyor was the one brightness in Ivan's life. Sure, he was content with serving The Darkling, happy even. But what would he do without Fedyor? Who could he protect with the same fervour?
Could he love again? Love? Did he love Fedyor? This sudden realisation sent a stabbing pain into his heart. He tripped. He fell. A tear fell too. But he stood up. And started running again. Almost unaware of the sharp pain in his knees, he pushed himself harder, further than ever before. At last, he saw the smoky trail of a bonfire. His heart froze. But he didn't stop. He pushed against the frigid winds of the North.
As he neared the border of the permafrost, the air was almost pushed from his lungs as he felt his foot give way. A Fjerdan trap! He struggled, dangling from a branch a metre in the air, a thick rope tied around his ankle. Suddenly he felt it. His lover's heartbeat. The easiest to distinguish among the Fjerdans. He reached out a hand to where he could feel Fedyor's heartbeat. It became erratic. Fedyor was struggling. Ivan could feel his panic, his pain. It hurt him too.
Suddenly he was falling, half-buried in the pure white snow. Nina, atop of her stead, reached out a hand and pulled him, sheathing the knife she used to break the trap. Ivan instantly jumped onto the horse next to her, giving Nina a terse nod. He knew she was friends with Fedyor, he knew that his partner cared for her, but he couldn't bring himself to turn to thank her. Not with Fedyor so close.
They burst into the clearing, jumping clear from their horses. They took up identical stances, the same that Fedyor and Ivan would sometimes pull in battle. He felt another pang in his chest. Then the whole world froze. The clearing was filled with bodies. Dead bodies. Grisha. Saints... His eyes darted around, trying to find Fedyor. Oh please no, don't let him be one of them. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't even bring himself to feel guilty, guilty that he didn't care about Fedyor's other dead comrades. It was only Fedyor that mattered.
Then, in the middle of the clearing, he saw him. But there was no sigh of relief. Because Fedyor was in the middle of the bonfire, tied to a stake, barely holding onto consciousness as the flames licked at his blood-red kefta. That's when all hell broke loose. Because as Ivan took a step forward, bullets started raining onto Nina and himself. Nina pushed them behind a rock formation before attempting to take some of them out.
"IVAN!" Fedyor screamed. The sound sent shivers down his spine. "Fedyor, hang on!" His hoarse voice broke, along with his heart. He thrust out his hands, not caring the damage he caused, all he knew was that he wanted to make them pay. He burst arteries, broke spines, crushed internal organs. He saw Fedyor slump against the burning wood, unable to fight anymore.
"Fedyor?" he whispered, barely able to feel a heartbeat. That's when the darkness came. The Darkling, atop his jet black horse, choking the life out of his victims with the surrounding darkness. Two Tidemakers started putting out the fire, while other Squallers and Inferni defeated the remaining Fjerdans. Ivan scrambled towards where Fedyor lay, uncharacteristically motionless, his usually smile gone. It seemed like no one else was caring what happened to Fedyor. Grisha were running around, trying to revive other Grisha.
Suddenly Fedyor caught sight of the Darkling watching him. It was almost a pained look, borderline pity, an unwanted memory or flashback. "Healer." The General whispered, gesturing towards Fedyor's unmoving body. Then Ivan was being pushed back, his grip on Fedyor's kefta broken. He struggled. He couldn't be bare to be parted from Fedyor again, but his attempts were futile. Another Heartrender began to lower his heart beat, he couldn't stop him. Then, there was darkness.
