Astrid Sisko is not a Grisha.
She's not a toy for Kings to use.
She's not a pawn for a General's game.
She's not a remedy for a Prince's political headaches.
She's a warrior. A killer.
She's not to be underestimated.
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OC x Aleksander...
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My eyes shot open, and I sat up in the bed, checking the clock. I'd been asleep for only a half hour. I groaned, covering my eyes and sitting there for a moment.
I couldn't be sad he was dead. I couldn't still be dreaming about him, this was wrong.
Shame filled me.
Everything I'd done on the skiff was wrong. I should've aimed to kill him, I shouldn't have tried to appeal to the man I thought he was. It was all wrong.
I didn't want to leave him to the volcra because I wanted to be better. I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn't the monster I sometimes felt I was. I wanted to prove that all of the death threats that left my lips were just an act.
The truth was, I didn't know anymore. I didn't know what was the facade and what was the truth behind the mask. Was I really the kind of monster he could see standing by his side? Was he that delusional... or was I in denial?
There was a knock at the door, and I stiffened. "Ma'am?" I heard a woman call, with a Zemeni accent. "My name is Tarissa. I work at the library." She called, and I shot out of bed, worried something had happened to Alina. I opened the door, coming face to face with a middle-aged Zemeni woman.
She smiled at me, and I faltered. She gave me a mother's smile. Kind, and full of love. Her aura was welcoming.
She held open her hands, showing me a broken necklace. She closed her hands, and when she opened them again, just seconds later, the necklace was fixed.
"You're a durast," I realized, wondering why she was there, and showing me this.
"Zemeni do not use such narrow terms." She said kindly. "We are all zowa. Blessed." She explained the Zemeni word.
"That's... beautiful." I said softly. "Would you like to come in?" I asked, opening the door wider. Something told me that she was here for a good reason.
"I know who you travel with. I know who you are." She told me, and I faltered. She sat down at the foot of the bed, smiling gently at me. "I know you need help, and I am willing to help you." Tarissa added.
"Why?" I asked warily.
"We are all zowa." Tarissa repeated.
"Blessed." I whispered.
"You are zowa. Blessed. I would like to teach you the ways of my gift." Tarissa said kindly. She held open her hand, and the coin I'd been practicing with flew through the air, landing in her hand. "I see you've already started. Good. I can teach you how to be stronger, if you will let me." She offered.
I hesitated. What if this was just another trick?
But something in my gut told me that she was true. I could trust her.
And I needed all the help I could get from a practicing Durast.
"How do I know I can trust you?" I asked, and she chuckled.