Testament to Time - darklina fanfic

Chapter 7 - Reckoning

The change was immediate.

The next morning Alina was presented with her black kefta adorned with gold embroidery.

He'd said nothing when he first saw her in his color, but his satisfaction was clear to her.

Suddenly Alina was joining meetings, and though she kept quiet while they were in session, Aleksander made a point to ask for her opinion once they were alone. It certainly gave her a fresh appreciation for strategic thinking, not that she had much practice with the skill.

It had been strange, getting used to Aleksander's newfound kindness, but he would entertain her thoughts late at night and watch her as she moved the pieces around the map, puzzling out movements. When he corrected her he was gentle, wise, like he cared for her improvement and wanted to see her mind grow. Like he'd wanted to have someone who he could share his thoughts to, someone who would have the expertise to add to or refute them altogether.

Despite his efforts, Alina doubted she'd reach that point any time soon and not from a lack of trying. She'd stay up late at night pouring over books on Small Science, troop formations, and West Ravkan revolutionary history. She'd read every report Aleksander gave her, scanning every line until he'd have to pry them off her hands and herd her to bed. She'd bat him away at times, but her attempts were always half-hearted and her incentive to stop for the night quite compelling. Besides, she'd wake up a little earlier the following morning to make up for lost time.

There was no point in sleeping anyway. It wasn't unusual for her to wake in cold sweat feeling the ghost of ashes and blood on her hands. Most nights sleep didn't come so easy when she could feel her guilt like a weight on her chest. Where most days she could make it through just fine, others she felt her grief could swallow her whole and one look at any young boy in a purple kefta had her running to the restroom and hurling her last meal for an hour.

Sometimes that's how Aleksander found her. At first, she hated when he did, her shame burning down her throat in an acid hotter than her own sick. Then, she stopped caring. He'd witnessed her at points much worse than this, and she allowed herself to calm at his doting presence and his firm yet caring grip as he held back her hair.

When the moon was still high and he'd catch her awake by the window seat, chased from sleep by funeral pyres and airships, he'd sit beside her keeping her company in her vigil of the darkened gardens. Aleksander would wipe the hot angry tears from her cheeks.

They will pay, she would promise. They will pay for everything .

He would kiss her forehead and drape a blanket over her shoulder to keep the brisk night air at bay.

They will milaya.

Alina prayed time would temper her guilt, that maybe one day she'd stop seeing specters in her sleep. Maybe such hopes made her the monster she often glimpsed in Aleksander.

Instead, she focused on forging her guilt into that hot anger, the feeling now a constant presence in the toil of her stomach and the batter of her heart. The need to act made her itch, rendering it difficult to so much as sit still for lunch. It compelled her to spend every waking moment thinking of ways to stop this war.

Apparently, Aleksander had been bluffing when he'd taunted her with 'leaving at dawn' should she choose to work with him, for he claimed there was still much to be done before she was allowed anywhere near the front lines. A fact that was the very root of her present frustration, for thus, her training with Baghra had resumed.

Training at the estate had been based on her brief– yet very memorable– lessons with Baghra, but she was glad that by the time they'd been building that curriculum she'd forgotten the nature of the old woman's techniques.