Which Witch || Aleksander Morozova

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓿𝓮

Black Blood

—

"You should rest." Aleksander insists from where he's sitting at the head of the makeshift bed in his tent. "We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Katerina shakes her head, continuing to pace beside the foot of the bed. Tomorrow, they journey into the Fold. Hopefully, Alina will be able to fend off any volcra that come clawing, but Katerina is still far too worried to relax. "Too much is about to happen." She replies, but still decides to lie down on the bed beside him regardless. Together, they stare up at the ceiling for a long moment.

"Are you certain our plan for Zlatan will work?" He asks.

Mulling it over in her mind once again, she nods. "He's too cowardly to risk crossing the Fold himself, so a scare tactic like this will be enough to startle him and his followers. It'll give us a time advantage to gain the upper hand. A show of strength, with limited casualties." He nods along with her reasoning, but she can't suppress a small sigh as she runs a hand over her face. "I just hope nothing goes... wrong." I hope nothing goes the way it was supposed to. Whispers a voice in her head.

Aleksander doesn't press her for any kind of explanation, his own mind returning to an event near the end of the book he'd found in her room. Him, extending to Fold. using the volcra to slaughter all of Novokribirsk. He hopes she doesn't really worry that he'd do such a thing. Instead, his thumb rubs a slow circle against her bare forearm that she's cast up over her head. "Are you afraid of the Fold?" He asks softly.

There's a pause before she admits, "A little."

He breathes out a small laugh. "You don't have to say only a little to spare my feelings."

"Are you afraid of it?" He goes silent at the question, but his thumb doesn't stop its comforting motion. She waits patiently for whatever response he is considering.

"Did I ever tell Alina about Luda?" There's a softness in his voice, making his words feel fragile, and she studies his face as she shakes her head. "She was a healer. The only healer we had at the time. There were less than twenty of us, in hiding, together."

"When was this?" She asks in a near whisper.

"During Anastas' rule." He nods grimly when he sees her expression darken knowingly. Anastas was the King who placed a bounty on Aleksander's head, dubbing him the Black Heretic, which eventually led to the creation of the Fold. "She opened up a clinic. It was only a small cottage in the woods, but she wanted to help people." Looking up at Aleksander, she sees how distant his gaze is, lost in his memories. "Ravka was growing worse for Grisha, day by day. I begged her to join us in hiding and she agreed, albeit reluctantly." His eyes darken, and she can tell the story is about to take a painful turn. "The King's guards found us before we could leave. Together, we tried to hold them off but Luda was wounded." His jaw tenses. "I killed them all. But I couldn't save her." Turning her body over to lie on her stomach and face Aleksander, she takes his hand in hers. There's a small smile at the edge of his lips, but he looks down sadly. "She died because of me."

She shakes her head, immediately trying to comfort him. "All you did was try to protect her."

"And I failed." There's a sharpness in his eyes as he lifts his gaze up to meet hers. "I couldn't stand it any longer. Watching my people die. Seeing them frightened and helpless. My grandfather thought merzost could be used to control people." The mention of merzost sends her stomach plummeting. She hopes that he will never have to resort to such measures again. A different version of Aleksander, scarred and pale, exhausted by the creation of shadow monsters, fills her mind. An Aleksander she hopes to never see. "I faced the King's army alone, buying the few Grisha left enough time to get away. I tried to bend his army to my will."