• Control • Matthias Helvar x Reader

3

Sleep did not come easily to me that night.
After a few hours of restless sleep, I resorted to devising my last minute plan. As if the General's band of oprichnik being after me wasn't enough, I now know there's yet another band of bloodthirsty Drüskelle evidently very hot on my tail.
I need to lose them both, and fast.

I could try crossing the Fold on my own. I had done it before, ages ago. My right side however, still bore the scars from that excursion that not even the most skilled Healer could mend. I shuddered at the memory of the volcra responsible, which I thankfully made quick work of by use of the Cut.

My fastest way out of Chernast was heading north. However, that meant crossing into Fjerda. The same Fjerda dear old Matthias hails from, and the same one that's hellbent on the extinction of Grisha.

However, albeit a brash and very dangerous idea, neither would expect it. Both the Fjerdans and the Second Army know that no Grisha of sound mind would dare even set one foot within the outlying cities, like Chernast, let alone the country's borders.

I sighed, weighting the options.
You do what you must, I thought. Endure and survive.

     I stood up, looking outside at the horizon. If I'm lucky, I have time to gather supplies, and still make it out of Chernast before dawn. I huffed, collecting my things. I folded my kefta and placed it in my satchel, opting to just wear the cloak over my blouse and trousers. Collecting the rest of my belongings, I left.

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     I visited some of the few shops on the street to ensure I had enough supplies to safely make my journey; if you could call it safe. I was able to procure what I hope is enough food to last me a few weeks, a sleeping roll, and some new warm clothes (pic below) to fit the climate, so I didn't have to resort to wearing the black kefta that I had stowed away in a saddle bag.

     Making my way back to the inn, I placed my room keys on the unattended counter. While no one was there, I made sure to swipe a bottle of kvas, stowing it in my satchel. I glanced outside.

A good hour left before dawn, I thought.

     With that, I ventured back outside. Pulling my warm wool coat over my shoulders, I hopped up on Sirius's back, and made a break for it to get out of Chernast as soon as possible.

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Matthias POV

"Get up, you oaf."

     I woke with a start, to a hefty fur being thrown on my face. I glared at Jon, who was snickering in the corner.
"Hurry up," he urged, in Fjerdan. "We've gotten news on the drusje whereabouts."
"What? Where?" I asked, getting up and collecting my things.
"One of the shopkeepers down the road," he said. "She claims the shadow summoner was there in the early hours of the morning."
She was right here, I thought. She was in Chernast and we were lugging about when we could've been tracking her.
"Oh don't look so grim, Helvar," said Jon. "She'll stand trial soon enough."
     I huffed in response, slinging my rifle over my shoulder. I stepped out of the chambers and down the hall, Jon following.

     Silence ensued as we walked, searching for the others.
"So," Jon started. "You and that woman?"
I narrowed my eyes, knowing what he was getting at. "What woman?"
Jon chuckled. "Oh don't play dumb with me, Matthias. We all saw," he joked.
"Saw what?" came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Ansel, and I rolled my eyes.
"Matthias wooing a mystery woman at the parlor," Jon laughed.
"I did not!" I protested.
Ansel clapped me on the shoulder. "Oh brother, don't worry. There's no harm in a light tumble here and there," he joked.
"You disgust me," I huffed.
They both laughed. "Oh come on, we're only jesting," said Jon.
I rolled my eyes, and busied myself with looking at a map, luring us to sit in silence.
"So did you guys—"
"Jon!" I scoffed, tossing the map at him. They both continued laughing. An elderly woman walked over.
I looked at her, recognizing her. "Ah, you must be the shopkee—"
"I saw the summoner! Sankta Y/n!" she shouted.
Djel, I thought. They can't be seriously praising her as a Saint?
"When? Where?"
"This morning! Before dawn," she rambled. "She bought fruit!"
"Good for her?" Ansel muttered jokingly.
"I swear! It was her!"
Jon looked at me and shook his head, turning his attention to the woman. "Did you see where she went?"
The woman nodded eagerly. "She looked to be heading North, out of Chernast," she babbled.
"I see, thank you," Jon said, urging the woman away. He turned to us.
"She's definitely not all there," he spoke in hushed Fjerdan, "but that's the closest lead we have."

I sighed, looking at the map. If this drusje was truly taking the northern route out of Chernast, she'd find herself within Fjerdan territory within the day, given she seemed to have had a head start of around three hours. "Any Grisha would be out of their mind to even think of heading to Fjerda," I said. "She must have a death wish."
Jon looked at Hansel, then at me. "Well," he said, "let's not forget where she left. For whatever reason, she fled that shining palace and has been on the run for weeks now."
Ansel nodded. "Their so called General has his little drusje scouring the country. We aren't the only ones that witch is running from."
I nodded, looking over the maps. To get into Chernast from Os Alta, she would've had to pass through the Tsibeya border. "Didn't we have Elric and the others stationed here?" I pointed at the spot in the map. "They must've seen something."
Both of their facial expressions turned somber. "They're dead, Helvar," said Ansel.
I frowned. "What? Who?
Jon nodded. "All of them. All 15," he said.
"Slaughtered. Wounds and gashes blacker than the Fold," said Ansel.
I sighed in realization. "It was her."
They nodded.
We sat in silence, pondering our options before I stood up, gathering the maps.
"If she wants to take this to Fjerda, then so be it."