Testament to Time - darklina fanfic

Chapter 2 - Fantasy

Author's note- This is the Malina chapter. It is long and I am sorry, but it serves the story so I'm not that sorry. 

They mutually agreed they should go as far away from Ravka as possible.

The supplies on their pack lasted about two weeks, enough for them to reach a town further south and secure passage on the skiff, and from there selling the horses provided them with just enough to get as far as Kerch, perhaps Novyi Zem if they were frugal. Crossing The Fold has been as unnerving as the first time but luckily nowhere near as eventful.

Alina kept a scarf tightly tied around her collar and Mal lowered his gaze whenever they passed members of the First Army. Aleksander had let them go, but he had never stated Mal was no longer a deserter, and from experiencing his deceit first hand, Alina knew that sort of trickery was practically second nature to the man. Nevertheless, she'd be the first to admit they were paranoid. They would often see red keftas in the corners of their vision only to find nothing there. She didn't dare so much as touch her powers.

Once they had reached West Ravka they made straight for the ports funding their trip through borrowing, bartering, and stealing when necessary. As they attempted to find a ship that could offer them safe (and cheap) passage across, the news started filtering in.

They gathered their information in half whispers and rumours.

"My nephew is in the First Army and has been assigned to march to Os Alta." came from the baker's wife as she packed loaves of bread into baskets while making idle talk with her customers during a particularly busy day in the market.

"How come? When the fight is to the North and South?" replied an older woman with a basket full of scones and a child balanced at her hips.

Alina felt the chill run down her spine, the antlers at her collarbone particularly heavy as she was reminded of their presence, of the man that had set them there and what he could be intending to accomplish by marching an army on his own capital. One glance at her pale face had Mal setting an assuring hand on her lower back and guiding her away.

Sankta Alina became a myth. Some believed she had died, others she had never existed in the first place. Many still called on their Sankta for salvation and it was not uncommon to see altars on the streets, suns etched on walls, or prayers being devoted to their saint's return.

About a week later, they had been looking for passage on a ship when they had heard from a fisherman that the First and Second army had launched a siege on the capital. The battle remained fresh and unwavering by the time they boarded the ship, the casualty list ever-increasing. Mal had held her hair and rubbed circles on her back while she heaved over the side of the boat in the early hours of the morning, Alina trying her best not to imagine how that blood could very easily be on her hands. He remained with her until the shivers had passed and together they watched the sun rise over the horizon.

When they reached Ketterdam, Mal and Alina took residence in a boarding house, sharing a single bed and often sharing meals. Between their time in the orphanage and the army, the packed hostel's dormitory felt weirdly like home.

They had walked down Ketterdam's piers and alleyways, and despite being warned by the sailors they had travelled with that the crime rate was something to be reckoned with, they found no one had wanted to steal from people who looked just as poor as they were.

The two had nearly entered a casino in search of a job when Mal spotted a Grisha at the door being used to detect other Grisha and barring them from entering. She was a young girl, dark hair like Zoya's, of smaller stature than Alina, and with dark circles to put the ones acquired by the two weary runaways to shame.