the other side - ruelle
we are buried in broken dreams
we are knee-deep without a plea
/
'he who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster' - friedrich nietzsche
-
irina'Are you sure?'
The tea on the table was getting cold. Irina rolled her eyes. She said whatever was convenient for her and right now, the truth was a sparkling gem.
'No, I've been lying to you. Of course, I'm sure.'
Michail looked straight ahead, his hair catching the brief flashes of lightning. There was nothing in his green eyes.
'How was it done?'
Irina scoffed. The rain poured outside. Flashes of light seeped through the clouds.
'I assume the Cut. I hear a very sick slicing sound. But I don't care how it was done. I want to know what do you think she'll do now that she has leverage over Aleksander?'
She didn't know the full extent of it. Michail hadn't told Irina what he knew about the Time Turner; that would only enable her talent for manipulation. Michail stared at a spot on the wall; maybe it was the trick of the dim light but he swore it was blood. He blinked and it was gone. He turned his head back to the Tidemaker, her brown eyes digging into his face, searching for a reaction. He made sure to give none. Irina wasn't on his side, she was on which ever side she deemed profitable. She would stab him in the back if he dared trust her.
'You underestimate him. Aleksander is ruthless. He would never let anyone outsmart him, you know that.'
Irina swung her legs onto the table.
'Yeah, but this is different. There's something going on between them and I don't like that. Have you ever seen him help anyone hide a body? I've seen him stab a man in front of his family and make them bury his alive.'
Michail felt a stab of pain. She was right, of course. Irina was always right.
It hurt him to see Seraphina so close to the General. After her ascent into power, she had hardly looked in Michail's way. He didn't know who had fallen deeper, Kirigan or Seraphina. But, heartbreak for something that was never real made him cruel. Every time he felt Seraphina drift into his mind, he reminded himself of her betrayal and her prophecy. He let melancholic rage consume him; he spent angry nights going over battle strategies and losing himself at the bottom of countless bottles of whiskey. He commanded light at his fingertips and trained it to be a weapon, leaving scorch marks on his pristine walls. He craved the feeling of adrenaline and power in his veins. This, this, was his drug.Michail refused to admit that he wasn't always in control. Sometimes, he would black out and wake up trembling on the floor, blood on his hands. He always assumed it was his own but he had never seen cuts on his body.
'Hello? Can you please focus?'
Irina's sharp voice stirred him from his thoughts. She didn't like how he was standing, hands gripping the back of the chair, looking past her head as if there were a ghost. Irina said that the General had changed but in all honesty, Sidorov had transformed. He used to be kind, nice but now he was a force to be reckoned with. On her daily observations of the barracks, she had seen him almost crush a Corporalki's heart when he couldn't combat the full force of Michail's powers. She liked it; it gave him more control and by the Saints, she liked a man in power. His next words were harsh, full of disdain.
'If I help you kill Seraphina, will you marry me?
Irina blinked, speechless. There were many things that she had expected from him but this, no. Never this. Not such a stupid leap of faith. Irina knew he had no feelings for her. It must be strategic but she could see no logic in his words. They felt forced but forceful. Even Michail, no matter how deluded, could be this far gone. She wondered what kind of sick magic Seraphina had.
'Excuse me? Are you insane?'
'Trust me, Irina. Together, we could take control of Ravka. And Shu. And Fjerdan lands. Together, we would be unstoppable. And besides, I know you long for company.'
She hated the taunt and hated even more that he was right. Marriages were sacred and not intended to be used as a transaction of power but Irina had seen people who did much worse. She contemplated his offer, fingers drumming her knee. Michail's family had legacy: the Sidorov bloodline was basically royalty. His father had commanded the Corporalki army and his father before that had been one of the greatest squallers to ever walk the Earth. Irina still remember the rumours people whispered about the Sidorov family in her village: rumour was that his grandfather had faced the Rusalye, the cursed dragon prince, in the icy waters. He almost succeeded in killing the monster and creating Morozova's second amplifier, the sea whip. Some say he went mad because he saw the torment in the prince's eyes.
With him legally bonded to her, Irina would be unstoppable. She would build her legacy, like she had always dreamed of. Irina Sidorov. That did have a ring to it. But a nagging doubt dissipated into her mind. Konstantin. Konstantin who she loved. She knew he loved her but she had come too far, she had hurt him too much to go back. Konstantin, who sat with her when she was new at the barracks. Konstantin, who talked to her when everyone else murmured that she was a psycho killer. She murdered her family and didn't cry a single tear they whispered in the dark. In the middle of the night, Irina would wake up, screaming at the voices that wouldn't leave her alone. But there would never be anybody in the room with her.
Konstantin.
'What about the General?'
'Well, I need to kill the Vessensky bastard. Without her, Aleksander will never fulfil the prophecy. If she dies, all our problems would be solved. I doubt he'll put up much resistance when he's lost.'
Irina scoffed. Konstantin.
'What makes you think he won't resist?'
She believed he wanted to kill Seraphina but when he spoke of her, his face fell. It was impossible to notice but Irina had known him long enough to know. Irina knew he still loved her. She had caught him countless times casting looks at Seraphina's closed doors when he walked past. The hope when ever he passed the white wood, hoping that she would open the door and call him in. They hadn't spoken in weeks, not since she betrayed him. She prayed that the invisible saints and their gods give him peace.Michail's eyes twitched. His hands tightened on the back of the chair, gripping it so hard his knuckles started turning crimson. Irina flipped her brown hair, shifting position in her suddenly uncomfortable chair. Michail pushed himself off the back of the chair and paced towards her, eyes never leaving hers.
Irina was never one to show fear in the face of anything but there was something about him. The air of determination, the silent murderer stare. The grey speck in his eyes scared her. Irina scowled, masking her rapidly beating heart and the colour that was rising to her face. It was useless; he was a Heartrender, he could feel her pulse from across the room.
'You repeat what I say to nobody. If you do, I will make you wish you had never crawled out from that demented hole you used to call home.'
The rain droned on outside. The books on the shelves rustled in the wind, loose sheets fluttering rapidly. A window must have been open. Irina tried to keep her composure but broke eye contact. Weak. What would her mother have said if she were alive. The threat stung. Felik and Dmitri laughed their insane, childish cackle at her out of the corner of her eyes. The lake that one day. Her head in Konstantin's lap. That book.
Irina nodded, eyes down and arms crossed. She was listening but the only thing she could think of was Konstantin and his wide hair and kind eyes.
'I can give us control over the Fold.'
Her grey eyes widened. She said nothing. There was nothing she could say. Michail smiled a strangled psychotic smirk. Not breaking eye contact, he got down on one knee. A serial killer would have looked friendlier than Michail Sidorov did as he reaches for her hand. His skin felt rough, Irina suppressed a shudder. The rain outside had stopped. Still, she thought of Konstantin.
'Now then, Irina Andreyev, will you marry me and make me the happiest man in Ravka?'
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horology | the darkling
Fanfictionho·rol·o·gy /həˈräləjē/ noun the study of time - Seraphina Vessensky knew that it would be easy to make any man fall in love with her, even the Black Heretic himself. Her quick wits, extraordinary talents and alluring beauty caught the eye of any wh...