Blood and Water - The Darkling

Chapter 31: Saints Don't Die

*Unedited

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𝖂𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 carry me to Nikolai. A hard wind blows off the shore to the west. The terrain that stretches beneath me is rocky and desolate. No mud, at least. But it also means an easier road for Fjerda's tanks. The sky is the dark slate of early morning, stars still visible above the horizon.

I know that Nikolai's scouts and flyers must have confirmed Fjerdan troop movements. He then sent Ravka's forces to set up camp on a low rise north of the tiny town of Pachesyana. The grubby little village serves as their base of operations as General Pensky sends out First Army troops to dig trenches - some deep enough that I can see them from above.

It's easy to find my friends, I land and transform at his side. When I reach him he does not turn to face me, "Lana, I fear that this is one of my riskiest wagers yet. I did not know where the Fjerdans would attack. So I let Sturmhond's blockade give away and tempted them with the chance at a two-pronged attack."

I nod and place a hand on his shoulder, "You made the right call."

He whispers so only I can hear him, "But if we fail today... they will take Os Kervo and seize West Ravka in a single tremendous move."

I squeeze him, "They will not. Besides, you have a Saint here now and another one on the way."

Nikolai finally turns to gaze at me in surprise, "You convinced him to help?"

"Yes," I answer, "I know not what form his aid will come in but he will be here."

The King's eyes grow hard and determined, "Good. Help with Daybreak and then take to the skies."

I bow, something I rarely do for my friends, "Da, moi tsar."

We do not wait for the sun to rise. In the muddy fields at Nezkii, they had all hidden until the very last moment - now. Not today. Today, there will be no grand subterfuge, no mines to greet the Fjerdans in the field. Instead, the enemy will wake to a show of force that we hope will make them think twice.

Nikolai nods.

I join Adrik.

Then I shout, "Sun Soldiers!"

The order I trained moves through the ranks of gathered Grisha and First Army.

Sun Summoners, the heirs to Alina's power, stand positioned all along the front, Adrik and I in command, the highest-ranking Etherealki on the field. Zoya is in the south. But I believe that she will make it. She's a fighter. Have mercy on any souls who stand in her way.

I raise my arms and give the command, "Daybreak!"

The Sun Soldiers follow my actions, together we flood the empty fields of Arkesk with light. I squint at the brightness, at the blighted field, at the pocked earth in the distance where a forest once stood. I can only imagine the Fjerdans are doing the same, wondering what strange sun rose in the south. They won't have long to wonder.

"Squallers prepare!" Ziva cries to her deployment of Etherealki.

"First volley!" Leoni yells to her Fabrikators. "Deploy!"

The sound is like a crackle, followed by a low whistle as the rockets ignite, their titanium shells glinting dully in the false sunlight. They arc into the sky, silver darts shooting toward the horizon, as the Squallers hold the wind from the west at bay and guide the rockets to their targets—Fjerdan tanks, Fjerdan troops.

When they strike, the sounds of impact rend the air, a staccato rhythm that shakes the earth, the drumbeat relentless. Smoke and fire rise from the Fjerdan lines. Men run to put out the flames, to help their fallen comrades, to pull bodies from the wreckage. The land is pitted by smoking black craters. How many dead in a single blow? In a matter of moments?