#sankta anastasia | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

manyfandomocs · 1 month

Text

Grishaverse OC Introductions

Alright here we are, possibly the most ocs for a new fandom I’ve had but I can’t help it it happened this way. Big shoutout to @randomestfandoms-ocs for helping with faces and also just hearing me talk about these guys the past couple days (also tagging @daughter-of-melpomene and @dancingsunflowers-ocs since ik they have grishaverse ocs)

Anastasia Beketov (Summer Bishil FC), The Darkling ship. Named for Sankta Anastasia, she was raised under the same ideals of selflessness and kindness. Except until the test. She was Grisha, and then she was leaving her family behind for the Little Palace to train for the Second Army. Anastasia was a Heartrender, able to control people and that power was an exciting one to have, if dangerous. She rose in the ranks, becoming a very skilled and valuable member of the Second Army. Valuable enough that she got the attention of General Kirigan, Aleksander, as he wished for her to call him. And soon they were spending more time together, which turned to late nights and though Anastasia did still believe in the power of the Saints, she wasn’t going to deny the power the General had over her as well. When the Sun Summoner is found, an orphan by the name of Alina Starkov, she is prepared to keep her place with Aleksander through whatever means necessary.

Casimir Dubovskoy (Bradley James FC), The Darkling ship. Ever since he was a boy, Casimir wanted to serve in the Second Army, just as his parents had done before him. His mother was a Squallor and his father was a Healer, and though it had been the hope he would take after his mother, he didn’t. But Casimir didn’t let that bother him, taking his training at the Little Palace quite seriously, until he could heal just about any wound. Still, it wasn’t enough to complete his other goal, become closer to the General. He was enchanted with the man, but so were many others in the army and a healer, no matter how talented, couldn’t easily become close to him. That is until the Sun Summoner.

Mikhail Morozova Balinski (Richard Madden FC), Mileva Kalugin ship. Mikhail was an Inferni, a talented Inferni though not one that was very high in the Second Army, not that anyone would say he hasn’t tried. The Grisha all know how, more than almost any other soldier, Mikhail wanted to be seen by General Kirigan to no avail. The others weren’t sure why, it just seemed as if he was indifferent to the Etheralki. But the Sun Summoner threatens to change things, and maybe one way or another, Mikhail will get his father to notice him.

Anatoly Morozova Kirigan (Thomas Doherty FC), TBD on ship I’m feeling like 3 options right now. Being a Shadow Summoner was a lonely life, that’s what Aleksander always told him. But Anatoly never really felt lonely, he had Aleksander, he had Mikhail in private, he had the other Grisha at the Little Palace, it may have been hard to be one of the few to control what he can, but he made the best of it. So to the public, he was Anatoly Kirigan, younger brother of the feared and respected General. In private, he knew his father was planning to expand his power, they just had to wait for the time. And when Alina Starkov is found, he must learn what it truly means to be the Darkling’s heir

Mileva Kalugin (Lily James FC), Mikhail Balinski ship. Mileva wasn’t built for war, that’s what most of the Grisha at the Little Palace believed. She was too kind, too helpful, it was no wonder General Kirigan tended to pass her over. She was a Tidemaker, she could have been a little better with her powers but she was still good, and she was more excited than anyone what it could mean when the Sun Summoner was brought to them, the end of The Fold, the beginning of a new age for Ravka, if only it were that easy.

Dimitri Chanov (Logan Lerman FC) Jesper Fahey ship. Dimitri Chanov did not belong in the Barrel. He was kind, too kind, and too positive. Anyone that saw him believed him to be an easy mark, which is what Jesper thought when he showed up at the Crow Club. But Dimitri wasn’t easy, he was perceptive and quick and as soon as Jesper looked away for a moment, Dimitri was gone. Of course, he was still there, just looked a little different. A little change in the face and Jesper didn’t know where he was. Which was a fun game for Dimitri, one that he liked to play anytime he visited the Crow Club and saw the man. Until the day he finally spoke to Jesper, when he learned there was more charm to the sharpshooting gambler than he expected, and Jesper learned what a Grisha who could change appearances was doing hiding out in the Barrel

Liliya Grankin (Alexandra Dowling FC), Nina Zelnik and Matthias Helvar ship. Durasts weren’t really fighters in the Second Army, which was fine with Liliya, she may have wanted a chance to better defend herself but she was very content staying in the workshops at the Little Palace, one who had few friends aside from a Heartrender named Nina. The girl visited her every now and then, and she always enjoyed the company, until Nina went on a special mission, and then they didn’t hear from her. Liliya wasn’t sure what happened, but she had a bad feeling so, against her better judgement and against others warnings, she escaped the Little Palace to look for her. Who knew she’d find her with a (admittedly handsome) drüskelle along the way

Dušan Stanek (Brenton Thwaites FC), Nikolai Lantsov ship. Dušan knew he could have had a good life, the son of a wealthy merchant, he could have had a safe and moderately wealthy life. But Dušan didn’t want that. He wanted to do more, see more, and that led him to the sea. He worked on a few ships, but his goal was the Volkvony. Everyone had heard of Sturmhond, and that was the man Dušan wanted to follow. It took time, but he managed to get aboard. And Sturmhond was even more charismatic than he imagined.

Ulyana Palkin (Bruna Marquezine FC), Nikolai Lantsov ship. Ulyana was not usually considered a nice Grisha. She focused on her training, her life as a Tidemaker so she can help the general and Ravka. It was her greatest honor in life, even if it meant she didn’t make a lot of friends. But when the Sun Summoner, Alina Starkov, came to the Little Palace, she managed to get through Ulyana’s barriers to become friends. Which proves useful when it’s revealed their own general wants to expand the Fold, and along the way Ulyana meets the most annoying and reckless prince in existence.

#new oc #new ocs #oc ideas #anastasia beketov #casimir dubovskoy #mikhail morozova #anatoly morozova #mileva kalugin #dimitri chanov #liliya grankin #dušan stanek #ulyana palkin

8 notes · View notes

just-1other-nerd · 2 years

Text

I'm reading The Lives of Saints right now and it was pretty much confirmed in King of Scars and Rule of Wolves that most, if not all Saints of the Grishaverse were Grisha, so now I'll list them and tell you what order I think they were in. Also Spoilers for the Grishaverse

- Sankta Margaretha: Durast because she works with solid materials like metal and gem stones

- Sankta Anastasia: Healer because her blood healing people is pretty obvious

- Sankt Kho: Tailor because he works with solid materials like metal (which is a Durast thing) thing but also with flesh and bones (which is a Corporalki thing especially a Corpse witch thing) and Genya explains at some point in the first book that a Tailors powers are kind of in between those two

- Sankta Neyar: Durast because she is the Saint of the black smiths and made her own sword

- Sankt Juris: a confirmed Etherealnik, his animal is the dragon

- Sankta Vasilka: Fabrikator because she works with threads and colours (btw I'm convinced that Leigh chose this name cause it's got "silk" in it, you know like a pun), her animal is the firebird

- Sankt Nikolai: I acutally have no clue (maybe an Alkemi???) even though it seems like this little boy didn't do the wonder himself he deserves to be a Saint because he is so nice to everyone and wants to share with the people also I think his animal is definitely the reindeer

- Sankta Lizabeta: a confirmed Fabrikator, her animals are the bees (btw I'm disappointed that we didn't get a picture of her like the one described in the Grisha trilogy you know where that bitch is brutally quartered)

- Sankta Maradi: Etherealnik most likely a Squaller

- Sankt Demyan: Fabrikator most likely a Durast

- Sankta Marya: Durast because she manipulates solid materials (rocks)

- Sankt Emerens: no clue (maybe a Fabrikator???), his animals were most likely the rats. Damn he deserved better than drowning in grain because he wanted to do something good like that's such a cruel death and then they didn't even bury him in the cemetery

- Sankt Vladimir: Tidemaker because my boy is holding back the ocean all alone for a whole month

- Sankt Grigori: confirmed Corporalnik Healer, his animal is the bear

- Sankt Valentin: powers no clue, animal is a snake, the book doesn't tell how he became a Saint and I'm curious but it told us a wonder he did just like in the Juris chapter but there the "defeating the dragon made him a Saint" was at least mentioned

- Sankt Petyr: powers no clue, I don't think the demon could be his animal

- Sankta Yeryin: Fabrikator because maybe she used her powers to move millstones to make the flour

- Sankt Feliks: most likely a Materialnik like the monks in the end of RoW, animal is the falcon

- Sankt Lukin: I'd guess Corporalnik because he survives something he shouldn't and because making people sleep before they die is a very heartrender thing

- Sankta Magda: the birth help and the suddenly looks younger part sound Healer-like but the healing potions and elixars and whatever sound more like a Alchemi thing so it's gotta be one of those

- Sankt Egmond: Durast, he works with stone, metal, glass etc can it be more obvious?

- Sankt Ilya: he is Morozova, the Bone Smith, a Fabrikator who used Mezost, even though he created the 3 Amplifiers those never were his animals but Alinas

- Sankta Ursula: Etherealnik, Tidemaker the wave was pretty obvious

- Sankt Mattheus: no clue, he just tamed wolves, so I guess they'd be his animals

- Sankt Dimitri: no clue

- Sankt Gerasim: Fabrikator most likely an Alchemi, because he works with paint and powders

- Sankta Alina: confirmed Sun Summoner, her animals are the stag, the sea whip and Mal I guess

- Starless Saint: confirmed Shadow Summoner

#grishaverse #lives of saints #the lives of saints #sankt grigori #sankta lizabeta #sankt juris #sankta alina #shadow and bone #alina starkov #the starless saint #the darkling

33 notes · View notes

ricardian-werewolf · 5 months

Text

Chapter 12: The Sun's Turning Red

Ao3 Link

Summary:

Nikolai awakes in Balkariev the morning after the Darkling posseses his beloved First Army. As he recovers, he begins to connect with Linnea and finally tells her of what happened with the Apparat. Much to his own relief, the First Army still worships their fox Saint and Nikolai curries favor with them. This is not the trap that finally ensnares the Too-Clever Fox.

Notes:

Title taken from the song Soft Apocalypse.

Word Count: 5,356 words.

Tws: minor discussions of Apparat's harm.

chapter under the cut.

Balakirev, the next morning.

Nikolai awoke to the feeling of fingers in his chest.

Blinking away the fog of sleep and fainting, his eyes locked on the face looming over him. Honey-blonde hair, blue eyes, the same curve of jaw, the same nose. Linnea Opjer, his little sister - in reality his twin - had come to save him.

Her fingers danced across the flesh of his chest, a needle in her hand. All of her years of needlework and sampler sewing to appease a husband to-be were paying off. As she sewed him up, he noted her murmured prayers. He expected soft murmurs to Djel, but no.

She prayed to the Ravkan saints, sprinkling salt over his flesh as an offering to Sankta Anastasia. Around her fingers were the prayer beads he recognized as his own - the royal family were the only ones allowed emeralds in their bead-set. The rest of Ravka did with lesser stones and wood.

He blinked again, and leaned up, attempting a sardonic smirk as Linnea’s eyes snapped to him. She faltered, and then, swept Nikolai up in a crushing hug. Much to his own shock, a sob bobbed in his throat and he snuffled. The dam broke, and the sob in him erupted, startling them both.

Princes do not cry. The monster within him hissed. Nikolai was almost overjoyed to hear it again. Knowing it did not flee, nor turn monstrous against Linnea made him smile. Dipping his head, he kissed his twin’s temple, and with shaking hands, cupped her face.

“What happened?”

“Y-you were dead when I found you. Shadows… pouring from your chest.” Linnea buried her face in her hands. “I thought that the Saints had truly cursed you for your hubris,”

“Sadly, no.” He winked. “I still live and breathe, much to their chagrin. Tolya’s job had worked too well, evidently.” Nikolai’s gaze flickered to the ruined scraps of his First Army tunic. Wincing, he realized now why the two bright spots of color dotted Linnea’s cheeks. She’d probably never seen a man shirtless before, and not up close. Her views of her father’s shipyards would always be from a distance, unless she was the kind of girl to get down and dirty with the metalworkers and coal-fire forgers.

He didn’t doubt her.

“I poured salt on your wound. It seemed to stop the shadows writhing in your chest.”

Hate salt. Too nasty. Too… acidic.

Nikolai noted this fact grimly, and resolved to himself that in order to exorcize the demon, he needed to flirt more openly with sodium poisoning.

“Do you not mean silver salts?” He inquired, delighting in how the monster within him howled in protest. Linnea blinked, and then sighed. She returned to examining his prayer beads.

“Yes.” She finally ground out.

“You killed your mother.”

Nikolai froze, and looked away. He had to tell Linnea of why he’d done it, or she’d decry him to her grave. Looking up, he caught her sapphire-blue eyes in his own. Steadying his breath, Nikolai softened and sighed.

“I did.” He admitted, watching his sister’s face crumble with ill-concealed fear and rage. She threw the prayer beads down, and leapt back from him as he sat up, her eyes wide. She feared him, now. He grit his teeth, and let the shadowy wings of merzost form behind him.

“What are you?”

“A demjinn, a boy possessed by the Darkling’s darkness. Some call me a sinner. Soulless. A monster.” The demon within him thrashed and writhed. Somehow, his inner child had tamed it enough to keep it from slaughtering him. In all essence, the demon was his pet. He felt glad for it.

“But you are still Nikolai Lantsov. Still Nicholas Opjer.”

“Yes.” Nikolai replied easily. “I am both of those things.” He extended his hand to her, palm up, fingers splayed like the starfishes he’d loved watching cling to hulls and wrecks during his time as Sturmhond. He sniffled, and then turned back to his hands.

“I killed my mother because she was complicit in a great many sins. However, the most grievous and horrific, alongside her main one - allowing a dear friend of mine to be raped by my father and then assisting in hiding the evidence for nigh on…” He counted back on his fingers. “Two decades.”

“Her worst is that she allowed for her older son, Vasily, to be fondled once by the Apparat… but did nothing for me.” His breath came out of his nostrils in a solid, deep sigh. Nikolai closed his eyes, feeling the tide rise within him.

He stood on a beach once more, the wave of memories and pain rising up like a tsunami to drown him. The wave careened towards him, bringing back the screams. The dirtiness, the fear. He grit his teeth hard enough to crack his molars, and fished about limply in the bed for Linnea’s hands. She wove her fingers through his, and his fingers swept over the pulse points on her wrists.

“How long?”

The wave plunged down over him, sweeping Nikolai away in its tide. He whimpered, twisted in the bed as the pounding of the sea poured up his nose and into his ears. He was at its mercy, and the sea was not benevolent

But he’d drowned before. And the sea had always been his escape, the place where he felt himself. He had to fight back, to turn the sea from a churning maelstrom to the sea-glass calm he hungered for like a man deprived of wine and spirits.

“How Long?” Linnea asked again, not noting how panicked he was. She gripped his wrists tight enough to hurt. He could feel himself sinking, water filling his burning lungs. Darkness filled his eyesight.

Live, for Saint’s sake!

“T-ten years. From when I was 10 to 16….”

The sea calmed, yet not all at once. But the roaring stopped, and the water in his lungs began to fade. He could breathe. The darkness was still there, and he was still falling. But, he was alive. Casting his eyes up, in this wine-dark sea, Nikolai’s eyes focused on the small speck of light he could see this far deep, and lunged for it. He hungered for the light just as Alina did, and thought of her and Dominik as he swam upwards.

The bite of the rosary beads, the burn on his wrists, threatened almost to undo all of it. He smelled the stench of the Apparat’s turned-grave scent; the reek of camphor and mothballs as Nikolai was pressed to his knees and violently-

NO. Don’t let him control you! His inner child snarled with an acidity Nikolai himself never knew he possessed. The monster and it were seemingly one in the same. This thought startled him so much that the tide around his body calmed, and he returned to the mental present with a startled jerk of his head.

I am the monster, and the monster is me.

Shaking his head, Nikolai’s gaze refocused on Linnea, and he sighed. “The Apparat had a liking - a fetish - for young boys. He sought me out because no one would care, since I was the Royal Spare, and destined for a life as a nobleman. Assuming I didn’t blabber to anyone, the secret remained intact and the Apparat was safe.”

Nikolai rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands and sniffed again.

“Except Dominik.” Linnea murmured, piecing the whole situation together as though it was a puzzle set to stump anyone else. She ran her tongue over her lower teeth and grimaced. Adjusting the collar of her blouse, she turned to tugging the cuffs of her shirt down - a nervous tic that Nikolai did in reverse when he was stressed.

“Except Dominik. He believed me when no one else would. Amazingly-” Nikolai cut himself off as he glanced out the window into Balakariev’s main square. There, he stared at the sky dumbly. Blinking, he craned forward, and toppled off the bed in a tangle of limbs.

“The sun’s out.” Linnea murmured in shock as she stole past him. Pushing the curtains of their richly adorned room aside, she stared out into the silent square, and froze dead. Looking up as she was, Linnea locked eyes with a form of a monster that looked suspiciously like Dominik, except his eyes were inky black, and huge wings sprouted from his back.

“Nikolai…”

Nikolai surged to his feet in a flash and stood beside his twin. Before Linnea’s eyes, his own claws emerged, and did his wings. He smirked, all teeth, and blinked. The monster retreated instantly.

“It seems, Dominik has brought some friends.”

“How’d you guess that?”

“Hive mind.” Nikolai cracked his knuckles and shook his head, his tongue flicking over his teeth. “The darkling thought that by making me a volcra, that it would bring control, and he extended that to my beloved First army. However, he forgot to understand who commands them now.”

Without another word, Nikolai threw the window open, and clambered out onto the wide, gabled rooftop of the mayor’s palatial home. Dressed as he was in his linen shirtwaist, black pants and the green satin robe, he looked like a pirate king.

His clawed feet clung easily to the roof’s siding as he moved up it. As Nikolai stood at the peak, he let his wings emerge once more and allowed his claws to glitter in the morning sun. From here, he could see the Fold off in the distance, and the brief flickers of light that flashed within.

Saints, forgive me. Save the woman I love, and deliver this bastard to hell.

Then, Nikolai cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a sharp yell to Dominik, who was in the middle of ripping through some nobleman’s townhouse.

“Easy, Dominik! Don’t scare the poor noble half to death!”

Dominik looked up, and Nikolai’s heart clenched with the pain of seeing his lover and brother so corrupted by Merzost. The blackness of his eyes was unnerving, but it was the pain in his face that broke Nikolai in two. Dominik hopped from rooftop to rooftop towards Nikolai, and then paused, looking up at him from where he crouched on all fours.

“Hello, sweetling.” Nikolai murmured, cupping his lover’s cheek in his palm. Dominik let out something approximating a purr, and nuzzled needily. His lips kissed Nikolai’s own damaged and scarred fingers one by one, hissing at the sight of such barbarity. Blood stained Dominik’s beard and shirtfront, and Nikolai stiffened.

“Dom…”

Dominik let out a chattering noise and then angrily hissed. Nikolai’s head turned to find Isaak plucking limply at Nikolai’s robe, and he sighed. The poor boy probably still found the need within himself to be his Tsar’s valet. The thought made Nikolai’s eyes bloom with tears, and he whined low in his throat, begging both men to flee him. The darkness within was too strong - he was losing control.

But he had to gain it back.

“Where’s Pensky? Raevsky?” He murmured, spinning in place to yank Dominik back up to his feet. Dominik growled. Nikolai hissed, spitting black blood. The monster was him, and he was it. The inner child inside him was perfectly content to let his side as king come into full force.

For was he not the Korol Rezni? These were his troops. His footsoldiers and monstrous as they were, they believed in him. He just needed to find the soldiers believing in Alina, and bring them into the fold of his ruling and then…

He’d have his army and his crown. The woman he loved needed him. The men he adored would be at his side. It’d be perfect. Nikolai straightened, and stepped back down to the open window Linnea leaned out of.

Reaching down for her hand, he hesitated.

“Trust me?”

“Certainly not.” She scoffed, examining his hand with a gentle glare.

Nikolai snorted, wiped his nose with the back of his hand and spat over his shoulder. She wrinkled her nose, and swung herself out of the window. Rising to his height, She rolled her shoulders back, and punched his arm.

“Ow!” Nikolai yelped. “What was that for?”

“Turning into a monster and not bothering to tell me, or better yet, infecting me.”

“Oh, you’d not want this.” He winked. “Makes you rather undesirable to marry.”

“What if I want that?” She retorted, eyes gleaming in the sunlight flowing down above them.

“Then I shall make an edict that my dear sister Linnea Opjer will be able to marry whoever she chooses and will not be forced into matrimony at her suitor’s wishes.”

Linnea halted, her eyes wide. She blinked, and let out a shriek as her footing slipped and she skidded down the rooftop. Nikolai leapt to grab her, and grinned as she flailed, then stilled. Twisting her head up, she glared over his shoulder. Dominik and Isaak were chattering and clapping their clawed hands together. She stuck her tongue out.

“Your friends seem to delight in my near-death.”

“Dominik and Isaak are like that. Endless jokers to the last,” Shaking his head, Nikolai deposited her back on the roof and gently took her heeled shoe in his hands. “Does father really make you wear these?” He asked, gesturing to her booted foot, with its curved Louis heel.

“They’re en vogue at the moment, from Stockholm. All the rage.”

“Of course.” Nikolai rolled his eyes. “My beloved sister who adores building things that blow up also insists her dress allowance go towards impractical shoes.”

“You’re just jealous. You’d look dashing in a pair of these in green.”

“Bottle green, little sister. If you could get me a meeting with your atelier, I would be most delighted.” Nikolai straightened his shirt tails. “Then again, this-” He gestured to the bustle skirt of her gown, a cascading trail of emerald green and teal silk taffeta in a sense that was wholly impractical.

“-Is my favorite gown.” Linnea replied simply. “Plus, it looks extremely fetching. It’s better to be fighting under the Korol Rezni colors then the Lantsov ones.” She did a twirl and swore as her balance slipped again.

“Do cease in giving twirls on rooftops, dear Malenchki. I don’t want to have to bury you in this blasted confection.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and for good measure whacked each of his cheeks with her folded up hand-fan. Nikolai snarled, baring his teeth. This made Linnea throw her head back and laugh. Then, she simpered.

“Oh, dear brother will be most misguided in angering me, when I do not give him what I’ve been working on for the past several months.”

“Oh?” Nikolai’s brows rose in question as Linnea bunched up her skirts and waddled down to clamber back in through the window. Once disappeared, Nikolai cast his gaze about for the Soldat Sol, and saw their sun-banner flapping in the sunlight eastwards of the town. They were huddled together in a pack of hundreds, praying silently and from here, he could hear the chantings of Sankta Alina and Sankt Nikolai.

The Fox Saint and Sun Saint.

Nikolai rolled his shoulders back and clapped his hands twice. Turning his head to regard Dominik and Isaak, he spoke:

“Tell Raevsky, Pensky and anyone else that you are under my command now. I’ll be briefing the Soldat Sol in the town square at the next hour bell. Be there.”

Dominik nodded, and with a bounce, had spread his wings and fluttered off to relay the command. Isaak plucked at the hem of Nikolai’s satin robe and helped him out of it as Linnea clambered back out onto the roof. In her arms, she held a folded up bundle of deep green. Nikolai’s gaze narrowed as she unfolded it.

It was a Kefta, emblazoned with strands of gold and silver. The branchwork of the Kefta’s embroidery reflected the Durasts’s embroidery of their purple Kefta, and Nikolai’s heart swelled with love and adoration. Though he and Linnea had somewhat of a tenuous bond, the fact she’d been sewing him this, all throughout this hell, made his heart sing.

“Linn…”

“Wear it, you fool. I want to see you in it.”

Rolling his eyes, Nikolai settled the Kefta over his shoulders. The cuffs and collar were edged in red fox fur that glistened in the light, and he noted that the buttons down the front were all foxes in gold. The belt buckle, which had always been the double-headed eagle, was now the Grimjer Wolf being taken down by the Lantsov Fox.

At the base of the branches on the front panel tails, Nikolai noted two fish and a crown - the Opjer family symbol. On the right hand panel was the north star constellation. His eyes shone with tears as he let Isaak button him into this new armor. The weave of the green, he noted now, was closer to olive, and the branches were more resembling the First Army embroidery he wore as a Major.

“Not a tear, Moi Tsar, or I’ll‘ve your guts for fish bait.” Linnea couldn’t help the grin, which split her face wide and showed off her dimples in all their identical glory. Nikolai pulled her into a crushing hug instead, and kissed both her dimpled cheeks in rapid succession.

She responded by punching him in the shoulder and smirking.

“Now, off you trot to amass that army of yours.” She winked, and slipped back inside the room they’d stolen from that mayor. Nikolai let his wings fan out, and hopped off the roof. He landed in the town square in a cloud of dust and a sprained ankle.

Wincing as he rose to his feet, Nikolai limped into the square’s center and found the entire First Army to be volcra-ized. Dominik and Isaak stood at attention near the town’s main fountain and saluted smartly. The beastility that the Darkling had instilled in Nikolai hadn’t carried to them. For that, he was glad. Evidently, their inner demons and children were much more in unison.

Sighing, Nikolai folded his wings down and smoothed down the front of his Kefta. The chattering of the Volcra faded with his raised hand, and all those inky-black eyes turned towards him hungrily. They rocked on the balls of their feet, drew clawed hands across the cobblestone. Nikolai knew they were devoid of their human natures and instincts, starving for the flesh of humans.

He would give them the prize they hungered for.

“Ladies and gentlemen of my beloved First Army!” Nikolai bowed theatrically. “Thank you for listening to Dominik’s evidently inhuman orders, and following them to a letter. It’s good to see that even with the wings and claws, you all still have some semblance of honor to our dear army’s orders and organization.” He rubbed his inky, clawed hands together, and smirked.

“Now, dear soldiers. Tell me, what do you wish to do?”

Kill the Darkling! They shrieked. And everyone else!

“I can give you the former, however not the latter. The Sun Saint is working to defeat the Darkling, but she needs our help. Do you not pray to her?” Nikolai crossed the expanse of the stone fountain’s base twice, his wings flowing down his back to form and reform at will. He snapped his claws together, and the sound reverberated sharply.

“Has she not been what you have all hungered for, for eons? For centuries?” His voice rose an octave. If he was to be her crier, her oracle of delphi, so be it. Nikolai would lay down his life for Alina, even before Ravka, to ensure she lived.

Alina would survive without Ravka.

Ravka would not survive without her.

Nikolai’s hand rose once more and as he looked out onto the square, he saw the Soldat Sol and masses of pilgrims spilling into the space. They were held at bay by their fear of his volcra-fied First Army.

He would show them what it meant for him to be Orpheus, the boy forever cursed to be without the woman he loved. He would always turn back.

For her, he would always lose faith in the ideas imbibed to him since birth, and that was his hubris, that his love for her would weaken him from immortality to mere mortal. He watched the crowd still, their murmurs silenced.

“I come not as King Nikolai, nor the fox-prince, but as the voice of Sankta Alina!”

The crowd surged to their feet. To speak of Sankta Alina so casually was heresy. To speak of her in any way as Nikolai now did was heretical. He would be stoned for it. But, his raised hand stilled them once more. This was the tipping point. Dominik had crowned him as the Sankt Nikolai of the 22nd Regiment, now, he would crown himself as Sankt Nikolai of Balakirev.

This mere town would be the site of his anointing. From here, he would lead the First Army into glorious battle, with Alina’s name on their lips, the Soldat Sol at their heels. The masses of pilgrims would pray at her shrines of the Sun Saint, and hope for her safe homecoming.

He would be the one to bring her from the Fold, carried like a bride across the darkened sands and wind-swept marshes. She had saved him once.

Now, he would save her.

And this time, he would not need to look back.

“What say you in voicing the Sun Saint’s wishes?!” A pilgrim snarled, stepping forward. He tore open the expanse of his tunic, baring his chest. There, Nikolai caught sight of a handprint burned into his flesh. The first of the Soldat Sol.

“I have fought alongside her in every battle from the Verrharder to Os Alta.” Nikolai straightened. “I rescued her from the grasp of the Darkling and led her across Ravka on her royal progress. I am the light in the dark that she has searched for all of her life.”

“Nonsense! Prove it, imposter!”

His Army stirred at that, and Nikolai growled at them.

Stay your hands! Do not alarm the pilgrims!

They stilled, and the pilgrims' eyes widened, casting gazes to one another. The prophecy of the Sankt Sol had spoken of a fellow for whom the shadows would sit at his feet and be under his control. For centuries, that had been misconstrued as a Shadow Summoner.

But, in reality, Nikolai had sensed from early childhood that the real meaning was something quite different. For had the shades of death not sat at Orpheus’s feet as he strung his lyre and sang songs of Eurydice?

He settled his gaze once more on the crowd, and spread his hands.

“This army of once-men stands under my control, for I am one among them.”

The pilgrims tittered. Nikolai stepped towards them, settling his hands at his sides. He looked to the pilgrim who’d bared his chest, and tipped the man’s chin up. “Do you pray to the Saints?”

“Of course!”

“Then you would know of a man known as Orpheus, yes?”

That caused a serious stir. Pilgrims began turning to one another and then back to Nikolai. He ran his hand through his hair, mussing it with his fingers as he waited for their deliberations to finish. Some looked angry, others reverent.

“Then you also know that the Fox Sankt who has been prophesied for centuries has been depicted with a lyre, yes?”

The man with Alina’s burn in his chest faltered as he looked at the cuffs of Nikolai’s Kefta. For while they were edged in fox-fur, the gold embroidery of branches also contained two things: a lyre, and depictions of Hades’s shades seated under a borough of thorns, the symbol of Durasts.

“S-Sankt…”

“Sankt Nikolai, the Korol Rezni, the Fox-Saint, and yes…” He paused for dramatic effect. “Orpheus. Or, as I prefer to be called, the North Star.”

“He who points the way.” The man fell to his knees before Nikolai, eyes wide, hands held up in supplication. Nikolai stared down into his eyes, his hazel ones blazing with an inner fire. One could get drunk on this kind of power. He’d feared Alina had, when she’d canonized him. But now, he felt himself hungering for it too. How he craved it.

“Indeed.” He raised his hands and the pilgrims and Volcra First Army leaned forward. Nikolai regarded them all not with the coldness of his father or Vasily, nor the vapidness of his mother. Magnus looked at his workers with pride, and that was now a feeling he shared as he stepped back to the steps of the fountain and stood atop its uppermost step. Above him, the flag of Ravka, the double-headed eagle, flapped in a stiff breeze.

A snap of his fingers and some private fluttered skyward to rip the flag from the post. Another rose up in its place. Where Vadik Demidov had died, where the Darkling had watched as Nikolai murdered his own flesh and blood, and where Nikolai himself had been killed, the Fox of the North Star pointed the way.

Towards the Fold - towards a united Ravka, and peace. Nikolai glanced out over the crowd, and spread his hands once more. He watched the oddly silent crowd with a curious gaze in his eye, and grinned his trademark half smirk, though it was genuine this time. There would be no more masks, no more lies.

Just the Fox-Saint in his truest form.

“Will you stand with me, Soldat Sol of the Sankta Alina?”

The man bearing Alina’s handmark stepped forward, and knelt before Nikolai. Raising his head, he clasped his hand into a fist over his heart and bowed his head towards his shoes.

“Yes, Korol Rezni. We will be your eyes and ears as we are of Sankta Alina.”

Nikolai nodded, and then stepped towards Dominik, who knelt. Nikolai pulled him to his feet. “A general never kneels, brother.” He murmured, clasping Dominik’s hands in his own. For just a moment, the monster in Dominik retreated, and his eyes were filled with such pride and adoration that Nikolai’s throat bobbed with tears.

“Moi Tsar.” Dominik rasped. “Sever Tsel.”

North Star. He who points the way.

Nikolai liked this very much, and he kissed Dominik’s cheeks.

“Eya fyela chi.” He added, cupping Dominik’s cheek in his scarred hand. Dominik murmured something much the same, and Nikolai smiled as he swooped in for another greedy kiss. The shadows between them pulsed with darkness, and Nikolai smirked as he felt the monster within him purr. Of course, it loved Dominik as much as Alina. Love was what made the monster content.

Stepping back, Nikolai pulled Isaak to his feet, murmured the same words to him as Dominik, and kissed the man’s forehead. The signet ring on his finger of the University of Ketterdam reminded him of simpler times. He stepped down from the fountain to let Raevsky and Pensky offer their fealty. With that done, he turned back to his First Army and watched as they knelt before him as one. Their shadow eyes and wings had brought them nothing but pain.

But Nikolai would point the way towards peace, towards acceptance. That way led to Alina, who needed them. He hoped that they weren’t too late. He somehow sensed through the tether that she was holding down as well as she could, but needing him wouldn’t be amiss either. He straightened, and then sighed.

“First Army, my beloved soldiers, all of you who have survived the long border wars of Fjerda and Shu han, the conflicts against the Fold, will you join me in one final conflict that will bring hope back to our exhausted land?”

There was a fluttering of wings, but no cries. He continued.

“When I was a child-” He pulled off his signet ring, letting the burn scars of the rosary on his wrist appear in the light. “I was told I had no soul. The Apparat said that boys as sinful as I did not gain souls. However, as I aged, I learned that to have a soul meant to feel for more than oneself. I have bled, sweated and fought for that feeling writhing inside me for eight years. So, I ask that you, who are much the same in wrestling with your own demons as the Darkling sinks his claws into you, to stand with me, as your king, to hope that a future brighter than our current can exist.”

“Will you point the way, Sever Tsel?” Dominik asked, looking at Isaak and then back at Nikolai. Out of the corner of Nikolai’s eye, he saw Linnea standing on the outskirts of the crowd, her hands over her mouth. In her hands were his prayer beads, and he winked at her.

“Yes.”

The crowd erupted, screaming his name, their chants of the hungry masses straining forward as one. Nikolai’s guards of Dominik, Isaak and Vladim, as Nikolai later learned, kept the crowds at bay. Someone passed forward bread and salt, which Nikolai broke and ate as a peace offering. Eventually, the crowd quieted. Orders were dispatched, and Nikolai retired back to the mayor’s house.

It was as he headed inside that he spotted by the door of his room, a battered green Lantsov banner emblazoned with a crudely stitched fox and sun. He smirked, and carried the banner in with him. The afternoon before this battle, his campaign would be spent in quiet meditation through sewing.

With each stitch and pluck of his needle, Nikolai offered a prayer to Sankta Alina. He prayed for her continued safety, for her win in the fight against the Darkling. He thumbed his prayer beads in turn and thought of her white-hair, those gold eyes, the sea-whip fetter and the antlers. He prayed for the safety of the Grisha who’d drowned in Merzost and emerged monsters. They too had answered his call and now went over battle plans under Dominik and Isaak’s leadership. Linnea had been sending around battle plans and making more weapons with the few durasts. Lumiya had been found in the basements of the town, and all would be poured into the war effort of tonight.

Nikolai plucked his way across the banner to sew in a set of stars - the North Star.

He who guided the way.

Not just to paradise, but an earthly place of peace. Ravka would know peace like a child’s instinctive safety of being in its parent’s arms. He would be the one to usher it in, under the mantle of the North Star and the crown of the Korol Rezni. At his side would be his Alina, and Dominik as his commander in chief, captain of his personal guard.

Nikolai finished sewing, set aside the banner, and stepped over to the mirror. He fiddled with the buttons on his kefta for a moment, before removing the signet ring and placing it on the sideboard. From his pants pocket, he slipped on a different ring - a gold fox-head under a set of stars. Flexing his hand, Nikolai smoothed down the fabric of his Kefta, and headed over to the wardrobe. Pulling out his Sturmhond jacket, he grabbed his revolvers, and then something special wrapped in black leather.

Unrolling it on the bed, he pulled out a scabbard and sword that he buckled to his waist. The sword was a court sword edged in gold, one he’d not used since his First Army days. It seemed right that the blade should be on him again for this final battle. Opening a drawer in the side table beside his bed, Nikolai unrolled a green velvet pouch and fished around for two things. One was a necklace emblazoned with a pilgrim’s medal of Sankt Nikolai, and the other was another ring - the Lantsov Emerald’s kingly twin.

Ravka’s coronation ring. This went on his wedding finger, and he flexed his hands again. Satisfied, he stole back to the door of his room, steadied his breathing, and picked up the banner. Outside, the church-tower peeled six bells.

Sunset was nigh. With it came the North Star to point the way.

End of chapter 12.

#wyn rambles #shadow and bone #shadow and bone au #nikolai lantsov #alina starkov #the darkling #ruin and rising au #grishaverse fanfic #nikolina #sun saint #Korol Rezni #king of scars #rule of wolves #grishaverse

2 notes · View notes

lilisouless · 2 years

Text

#netflix shadow and bone #shadow and bone #Grishaverse #genya safin #hanne brum

12 notes · View notes

ragingstillness · 1 year

Text

Grishaverse reference

Hi Grishaverse moots, idk if someone has already done this before and if they have, sorry, guess we've got two cakes now.

I recently finished reading lb's written version of Lives of the Saints and I have many thoughts. The following are my guesses on nation of origin and grisha power for the saints mentioned in the book, based on the stories provided. There isn't a ton of information, but these are my best guesses, feel free to put these interpretations in your fics!

Also lb's grasp on Russian is tenuous at best, so keep in mind that this list is written letter for letter the way the chapters were titled, not the way these names would be properly spelled.

Sankta Margaretha - Kerch, likely Durast

Sanka Anastasia - Ravkan, likely Healer or Alkemi

Sankt Kho - Shu, Durast

Sankta Neyar - Shu, Durast

Sankt Juris of the Sword - presumably Ravkan but he dates back to before Ravka was a country, his story references one of his miracles not his actual story of sainthood so his Grisha designation is unknown, we do know that he's a two-souled Grisha bonded with the Dragon

Sankta Vasilka - probably Ravkan due to her being described as the first firebird, likely a two-souled Grisha with a firebird, maybe a Durast or Squaller

Sankt Nikolai - unclear nationality due to his being on a ship from an unknown port, potentially Ravkan, Squaller, maybe an Alkemi too

Sankta Lizabeth of the Roses - Ravkan, maybe a Durast, maybe a two-souled Grisha with bees, maybe an Alkemi with plants

Sankta Maradi - Zemeni, Tidemaker or Squaller

Sankt Demyan of the Rime - Fjerdan, Durast

Sankta Marya of the Rock - Suli, Durast

Sankt Emerens - Kerch, maybe Alkemi or Heartrender

Sankt Vladimir the Foolish - Ravkan, Tidemaker

Sankt Grigori of the Wood - Ravkan, Healer, potential Durast, two-souled Grisha with a bear

Sankt Valentin - unknown nationality, potential Squaller or Heartrender, potential two-souled Grisha with a snake

Sankt Petyr - Ravkan, potential Inferni or Heartrender

Sankta Yeryin of the Mill - Shu, likely Durast or Alkemi

Sankt Feliks Among the Boughs - Ravkan, likely Alkemi, the Thornwood grew where he died, two-souled Grisha with a hawk

Sankt Lukin the Logical - unknown, potential merzost-using Healer or Heartrender

Sankta Magda - Ravkan, Healer or Alkemi, maybe secondary Squaller gift, saved Grisha children from pyres

Sankt Egmond - Fjerdan, Durast, forced to create the Ice Court

Sankt Ilya in Chains - Ravkan, merzost-using Durast, potential Healer/Heartrender too

Sankta Ursula of the Waves - from an area in Fjerda where she is called a princess but we known her mother is Baghra and her father a sildroher, making her half-sildroher half Ravkan, Tidemaker

Sankt Mattheus - unknown nationality, Alkemi or Heartrender, turned wolves into dogs, possible merzost using Heartrender or two-souled Grisha with a wolf

Sankt Dimitri - unknown nationality, likely a merzost-using Healer or Heartrender (or a Squaller playing a joke due to his? skeleton being found in a room still praying and also talking)

Sankt Gerashim the Misunderstood - likely Ravkan, potential Durast, his vow of silence makes me think it's more likely that he was attacked and made mute because it says he stopped talking at 15 and didn’t say a word in his defense before he died

Sankta Alina of the Fold - Ravkan, Sun Summoner, obviously

The Starless Saint - Ravkan, Shadow Summoner, obviously

Extra thoughts I had reading the book:

“Half of novokribirsk was lost” - this is how the Darkling moving the Fold was described so I guess we have a better grasp on where the Fold moved to and how many people died

The story with Alina isn't about her own sainthood but about people praying to her, specifically Grisha children who are being sold to Kerch slaver, what a surprise that Alina didn't fix everything governing Ravka (I am bitter as hell and this is sarcastic)

Ulla being described as a princess is odd because what is she the princess of?

We know that dragons and sildrohers exist in the grishaverse but nebulous "demons" are also mentioned as taking over people's bodies. It's unclear how real these might be or whether they were trauma responses or mental health issues.

A ton of these people are hermits, likely because it helped hide their powers.

Lots of saints being accused of conspiring with the “demons,” lots of the saints are described as “witches.”

The prose feels like I’m reading propaganda written by the Apparat. ex: All the saints are described as pious and this is what their actions are attributed to despite clearly being the result of Grisha powers.

It's interesting to me personally lb even included Aleksander or allowed a story to exist that showed how his expansion of the Fold benefitted a Ravkan citizen.

Most Saints are described as weak and sickly, wonder why that is (wasting sickness from hiding their powers).

The Tula valley was desolate before the Fold because Feliks died there and many crops rotted after his death.

A lot of these stories have townspeople and noblemen turning on the saints, also lots of stories of people fighting for royalty then being betrayed by the same royalty (what a sucky trend for Grisha).

Many saints are said to be monks and scholars, this might be Apparat propaganda but it also might be an extension of them being in hiding about their powers.

Lot of saints are Durasts and Alkemi, likely because Materialki powers are the easiest to hide. Possible Etherealki Saints probably didn't survive long enough to be remembered.

A surprising amount of saints were Squallers. This may be because wind is harder to predict than other natural forces and is more likely to be dismissed as nature rather than Grisha power.

Only one saint is a potential Inferni. Probably because it's arguably the most difficult power to hide.

Some of these legends definitely seem older than others because they reference each other and lb does not make it clear where in the historical timeline they fall in relation to each other.

Some of the saints are only described with their miracles not their stories of sainthood, this is a curious choice and I wonder why it was made.

Some of the saints' deaths are written as fade to black while others are described in excruciating detail. Another weird choice.

#ref #grishaverse #grishaverse ref #fic ref #shadow and bone #sab #s&b #aleksander morozova #alina starkov #ilya morozova

6 notes · View notes

novinare · 1 year

Text

Inej had custom Fabrikator-made leather slippers with coarse rubber soles, perfectly fitted to her feet and capable of gripping any surface. However, her slippers melted in the incinerator at the Ice Court.

While working for the Dregs, she carries brass knuckles in a pocket on her right hip, climbing spikes, and pads on her knees for crawling and climbing. The pads also hide blades that are activated by a trigger on her ankles.

Inej has many knives, all of which are named after Saints. The ones hidden in her forearms have quick releases: Sankt Petyr on her right hand, her first knife given to her by Kaz, and Sankta Alina, a knife with a bone handle. Sankta Marya and Sankta Anastasia are on her thighs, Sankt Vladimir in one of her boots, and Sankta Lizabeta (with a rose-engraved handle) on her belt.

(x)

#. inej ghafa

4 notes · View notes

brelliesvault · 21 days

Text

RELIGIONES Y SANTOS

DJEL Es el dios que adorado por los Fjierdanos. Se dice que construyó el palacio de hielo y trabajó entre los fresnos. En Fjerda se entierra a los muertos cerca de un fresno para que de ese modo puedan echar raíces.

GHEZEN Es el dios de Kerch y el dios del comercio. Los ciudadanos de Kerch creen que el trabajo es parecido a la oración. La limpieza es solo una de las maneras que honran a su dios.

La iglesia del Trueque en Ketterdam tiene la forma de la mano de Ghezen.

LOS SANTOS Fueron personas reales que, debido a sus milagros y martirios en vida, lograron crear cierta devoción por ellos después de muertos, o al menos eso cuentan las leyendas. Hay historias muy diferentes de todos ellos y una extensa lista, pero de manera general se les conoce como Los Santos. Casi todos ellos fueron Grisha.

Lista de santos:

SANKTA ANASTASIA Patrona de los enfermos.

SANKT DEMYAN DE LA ESCARCHA Patrón de los recién fallecidos.

SANKT EGMOND Patrón de los arquitectos.

SANKT EMERENS Patrón de los cerveceros.

SANKT DIMITRI Patrón de los eruditos.

SANKT FELIKS DEL MANZANO Patrón de la horticultura.

SANKT GERASIM EL INCOMPRENDIDO Patrón de los artistas.

SANKT GRIGORI DEL BOSQUE Patrón de los médicos y los músicos.

SANKT ILYA EL ENCADENADO Patrón de las curas milagrosas.

SANKT JURIS DE LA ESPADA Patrón de los soldados exhaustos.

SANKT KHO Patron de las buenas intenciones

SANKTA LIZABETA DE LAS ROSAS Patrona de los jardineros.

SANKT LUKIN EL RACIONAL Patrón de los políticos.

SANKTA MAGDA Patrona de los panaderos y las mujeres desamparadas.

SANKTA MARADI Patrona de los amores imposibles.

SANKTA MARYA DE LA ROCA Patrona de quienes están lejos de casa.

SANKTA MARGARETHA Patrona de los ladrones y los niños perdidos.

SANKT MATTHEUS Patrón de los amantes de los animales.

SANKTA NEYAR Patrona de los herreros.

SANKT NIKOLAI Patrón de los marineros y las causas perdidas.

SANKT PETYR Patrón de los arqueros.

SANKTA URSULA DE LAS OLAS Patrona de quienes se extravían en el mar.

SANKT VALENTIN Patrón de los encantadores de serpientes y los solitarios.

SANKTA VASILKA Patrona de las mujeres célibes.

SANKT VLADIMIR EL NECIO Patrón de los ahogados y los éxitos inesperados.

SANKTA YERYIN DEL MOLINO Patona de la hospitalidad.

0 notes

nalie-1998 · 3 months

Text

Cumpleaños - Pt.2

Emparejamiento: Nikolai Lantsov x platónjco!lector

Advertencias: Pesadillas, miedo, culpabilidad. Sólo soy yo escribiendo algo de angustia :D

T/N se levantó en medio de la noche, con el sudor frío pegado a todo su cuerpo como una segunda piel y el calor, ahora asfixiante, de las mantas incomodándola.

Parpadeó varias veces, intentando eliminar de su retina la imagen del cuerpo de Vasily y el nichevo'ya atacándola, aún todavía visibles desde el interior de su mente, arraigadas como un parásito que se alimenta del dolor.

Vasily seguía doliendo en su corazón.

La pequeña Lantsov se incorporó en la cama, apartando las mantas asfixiantes y húmedas por el sudor, dándole patadas y empujándolas hacía abajo, alejándose todo lo que pudo de ellas. Se frotó la cara frenéticamente con las manos, intentando desesperadamente deshacerse de los rastros de lágrimas que la habían asaltado durante el sueño.

La luz de la luna se filtraba por la ventana, esbozando todo de un color plata claro. Pero aún había sombras en la habitación. Si había muchas sombras algún nichevo'ya podía pasar desapercibido y ella no se daría cuenta de su presencia hasta que fuera demasiado tarde. O él podría esconderse y atacarla. ¿Y Nikolai? A él también podían atacarlo.

Respiró profundamente mientras contaba cada respiración, intentando relajarse y parar de llorar. Su pecho le dolía y en sus oídos resonaban los fuertes latidos de su corazón. Sentía el nudo de su garganta y el vacío de su estómago persistentes. Tenía miedo. Lo sentía dentro de sí, denso y maligno, envolviendo su corazón como el día en el que Vasily se fue con los Sanktos. Ahogándola y torturándola, incapaz de hacer nada más que mirar.

Inspiración y espiración.

Ella seguía viva.

Inspiración y espiración.

¿Nikolai seguía vivo?

Inspiración y espiración.

Ella no quería perderle.

Inspiración y espiración.

Ella no podía perderle.

Moqueó un poco y se frotó los ojos antes de mirar la silueta oscura de la vela en su mesilla de noche, iluminada levemente por la blancura de la luna. Miró alrededor de toda la habitación, buscando algo en la oscuridad. Seguía sintiéndose vigilada, pero no veía nada. Eso la asustaba.

T/N volvió a mirar la vela y las cerillas durante un rato antes de sacar el brazo fuera de la cama a riesgo de que se lo arrancara algún nichevo'ya que se hubiera escondido debajo de su colchón, pero no pasó nada. Soltó el aire que había mantenido en sus pulmones inconscientemente en un suspiró de alivio. Irguió la vela por su soporte de cerámica y encendió una cerilla con toda la delicadeza y cuidado que pudo. Sus manos temblaban demasiado como para hacerlo rápido y ágil, pero lo consiguió.

Una luz cálida y cambiante originada por la llama de la vela iluminó todos los alrededores de la habitación tenuemente. Bien, en su habitación no había nichevo'ya, así que tal vez el Oscuro no estuviera cerca. Preguntaría a Nikolai cuando entrase a su habitación: Él tenía espías vigilando todo lo que pasaba en cada país, seguramente supiera todo lo importante que sucedía. Bueno... casi todo. Él no sabía cuándo los nichevo'ya podían estar cerca. Él no los había visto cuando llegaron al Gran Palacio ni a La Rueca, así que ella debía de avisarle cuando había una posibilidad de que ellos estuvieran en el Palacio.. como, por ejemplo, ahora mismo.

Tenía que asegurarse de que no perdía a nadie más.

La sensación de algo vigilándola alrededor, acechando entre las sombras a las que la luz no llegaba seguía inundándola, sosteniendo el agujero en su estómago. Pero lo único que podía hacer era poner la vela lo más alto posible y rezar a Sankta Anastasia para que la protegiera.

Inspiró hondo, soltando un suspiro tembloroso antes de levantarse de la cama, primero un pie, viendo que ningún monstruo del Oscuro se lo arrancaba, luego el otro, sintiendo el frío del suelo creándola un escalofrío que la recorrió por completo. Corrió hacia las cortinas, abriéndolas de par en par para dejar que la luz de la luna se derramase por el cuarto, trayéndola consuelo por su claridad. Su vela no podía hacer todo el trabajo de iluminar sola.

Cogió antes de irse una manta pequeña de su cama, atándosela al cuello como una capa improvisada, y agarró firmemente la vela en sus manos temblorosas, intentando mantenerla erguida todo lo posible

Abrió la puerta de su habitación despacio, intentando que chirriase lo menos posible para no avisar a algún posible enemigo de su ubicación. Miró alrededor y relajó la tensión que había acumulado en sus hombros al ver que el pasillo estaba vacío, bajo la vigilante mirada de las armaduras de exposición que decoraban el trecho. Corrió lo más rápido y silenciosamente posible, con la alfombra gruesa amortiguando sus pisadas, sintiendo a las sombras agrandarse detrás de ella según la luz de la vela se movía.

Fue hacia la derecha y luego a la izquierda hasta llegar al pasillo de los antiguos reyes de Ravka, todos con sus ojos de óleo mirando descaradamente la situación de la pequeña con un deje de juzgue que la ponía nerviosa. Observaban sus pasos con un aire solemne y despectivo que la recordaba a los ojos del antiguo Apparat.

Nikolai solía decir que los dos terminarían pintados y colgados en ese pasillo, como todos los Lantsov habían hecho antes que ellos. Pero ella no quería formar parte de eso, y esperaba que Nikolai tampoco. Él no era tan serio ni regio y T/N quería que nunca lo fuera.

Su hermano no miraba al resto por encima del hombro ni regañaba a las personas sólo por pasar delante de su cuadro (aunque tal vez los aires de grandeza si que los tuviera).

La pequeña frunció el ceño ante los ojos de los antiguos reyes, acurrucándose en su capa improvisada y anduvo de puntillas por la alfombra mullida, virando a la izquierda en vez de a la derecha, cogiendo el camino más largo para evitar pasar por la puerta del dormitorio de David y Genya. La mortificadora tenía el sueño demasiado ligero para su gusto, y si la despertaba no la dejaría ir a avisar a Nikolai, aunque ella luego se quedara en su cama hasta que se durmiese.

Echó una ojeada hacia atrás, vigilando que las sombras no se acercasen más de lo que deberían. Le pareció ver un nichevoy'a de reojo, pero sólo era una armadura. ¿O era un nichevo'ya que se había escondido en la armadura? No se paró a descubrirlo ya que, cuando llegó al final del pasillo, corrió otra vez hacia la habitación de Nikolai, con la manta sobre sus hombros ondeando, intentando dejar a los nichevo'ya y su pesadilla atrás. Intentando no pensar demasiado en el nudo de su garganta y estómago. Intentando evitar volver a ver en su retina la sangre saliendo del brazo de Vasily y manchándola las manos.

-----

T/N se paró justo enfrente del enorme e intimidante cuerpo de Tolya. Hoy era viernes y le tocaba a él vigilar las habitaciones de Nikolai, así que a la pequeña no le sorprendió encontrárselo. Al contrario, esperaba que su imponente figura ahuyentase a los posibles monstruos que pudieran estar ahí. Y eso la tranquilizó.

Miró al hombre sentado en una silla que, en comparación suya, parecía de juguete. Observó su pecho subir y bajar al ritmo lento de sus ronquidos. Su cabeza apoyada en la pared a la que daba la espalda, la de la izquierda a la puerta de la habitación de Nikolai. La primera vez que lo conoció le parecía un hombre al que temer, pero durmiendo con un libro de poesía caído en el regazo y acurrucado sobre sí mismo... A T/N le pareció hasta gracioso.

Las comisuras de los labios de la pequeña se curvaron hacia arriba suavemente antes de dejar la vela a un lado. Cogió el libro de poesía shu del gigante guardián, poniendo el marcapáginas que tenía hojas atrás y cerrándolo, mientras lo colocaba suavemente en el suelo intentando no hacer mucho ruido. Tolya era una buena persona y un gran guerrero. ¿Debería de despertarlo para que la ayudase? Según tenía entendido, él se había enfrentado a varios volcra y había salido ileso.

Otro ronquido de Tolya reverberó en todo el pasillo y T/N soltó una pequeña risa. Debería de dejarle descansar, si tenía sueño luego no podría jugar al día siguiente, y a T/N le encantaba jugar con él.

T/N se desató del cuello la manta que llevaba puesta y arropó al hombre con ella, aunque sólo pudo llegar a taparle el torso. La pequeña se puso de puntillas y le dio un beso de buenas noches en el hombro, a la zona más alta a la que podía llegar. Era un buen guerrero, y se merecía una buena siesta. A él tampoco quería perderlo, por eso tenía que llamar a Nikolai, él era quien tomaba buenas decisiones.

-----

La puerta de Nikolai se abrió silenciosamente sin ningún chirrido, deslizándose grácilmente por sus bisagras, dejando entrar la tenue luz de la vela de T/N en la habitación de Nikolai, apenas iluminada por la luz de la luna, que entraba por los bordes de las pesadas cortinas echadas de las ventanas.

Todo parecía demasiado frío y silencio para su gusto. Alzó la vela más alto, cogiéndola todo lo firmemente que pudo de su recipiente de cerámica, intentando iluminar todo lo que pudo antes de cerrar la puerta tras de sí.

-¿Nikolai?- T/N susurró, con la voz débil y quebrada.

La pequeña miró fijamente el bulto de debajo de las sábanas de la cama que parecía Nikolai. Estaba muy quieto... Bueno, las personas dormidas solían estar quietas. ¿Nikolai estaba dormido o muerto? ¿Había llegado demasiado tarde otra vez?

T/N sintió una lagrima correr por su mejilla:

-Nikolai, ¿estás despierto?- Esta vez su voz tembló y se rompió en el débil susurro que era el hilo de su voz.

Alzó la vela aun más, intentando ver la silueta de algún volcra o nichevo'ya, hasta preparándose mentalmente para volver a ver esa kefta oscura sobresaliendo por debajo de las cortinas. No había nada.

La vela titiló un poco, como si el frío de las sombras desafiaran a la luz de la llama. La vela volvió a su danza mecedora, brillando débil entre la oscuridad.

La pequeña dio un paso hacia delante, con las piernas temblorosas y el suelo de madera crujiendo bajo sus pies antes de pisar la alfombra que recorría casi toda la sala. No había ninguna señal de que algo más estuviera o hubiera entrado en la habitación, Nikolai debería de estar bien.

La niña corrió hasta llegar al lado de la cama dando pequeñas zancadas de puntillas, intentando hacer el menor ruido posible, amortiguando sus huellas en la gruesa alfombra. Se paró en seco justo delante de la cabecera, viendo el rostro de su hermano. Tenía el gesto calmado y tranquilo, con el pelo revuelto y una mejilla pegada a la almohada, durmiendo de lado y cubierto por varias mantas. Él parecía estar bien, y eso dejó respirar tranquila a la pequeña.

Si él estaba bien, todo estaba bien.

Acercó un poco más la luz de la llama a la cama, buscando algún tipo de huella o rastro que sus ojos no hubieran advertido a primera vista. La luz danzaba en el rostro de Nikolai, dejando ver sus facciones tranquilas. No estaba tan pálido como Vasily ni tenía sangre.

La pequeña acercó la vela más para ver mejor.

-----

Nikolai frunció el ceño y soltó un gemido grave y raspado, que le salió desde lo profundo de la garganta. ¿Ya había amanecido? Creía que había dejado las cortinas echadas. Entreabrió los ojos, deslumbrado, intentando enfocar algo que no fuera los colores cálidos de la luz que le había levantado.

-¿T/N? ¿Qué haces aquí?- Habló con voz ronca después de ver a su hermana ocupando toda su periferia visual.

La pequeña se asustó, dio un saltito para atrás y alejó la llama de Nikolai, aunque aun observó a su hermano con los ojos entrecerrados y el ceño fruncido, analizándolo fijamente. Nikolai vió como T/N clavó por un momento más largo de lo normal su mirada en las venas oscuras que le recorrían las manos antes de volver sus ojos al rostro de su hermano.

Nikolai suspiró, resignado, relajando los hombros de nuevo y recostándose sobre sus codos, mirando a su hermana, esperando ver si ella respondía su pregunta. El mayor ladeó la cabeza al verla ahí, para en silencio, mirando el suelo delante de ella con los ojos llorosos, sin reaccionar.

No... Otra vez no. Ya era la tercera vez este mes que pasaba. Nikolai frunció el ceño.

-T/N... ¿A pasado otra vez?

La pequeña moqueó y se restregó la nariz con la mango de su pijama antes de responder.

-He vuelto a ver a Vasily... Y-y el nichevo'ya se lo comía, y luego venía. Entonces me desperté y había mucha oscuridad... Y quería preguntarte si sabes algo del Oscuro, como tienes mucha información sobre muchas cosas creía que podrías decirme algo.- T/N alzó la mirada del suelo- ¿Sabes dónde está él?

Nikolai tragó en seco, deshaciéndose de el nudo en la garganta que se le había empezado a formar. Se deslizó a un lado de la cama, sintiendo el frío de fuera de sus sábanas arrastrando los restos de sueño de su cerebro. Se giró a su hermana, dando unas palmaditas en el colchón de la cama.

-Deja la vela en la mesilla y sube a la cama ¿Sí?- Nikolai hizo una mueca en un intento de sonrisa a su hermana- Creo que ya llevas suficiente tiempo despierta como para seguir de pie. Te has recorrido un buen trecho del castillo, supongo. Eso o has sido sorprendentemente silenciosa como para que Genya no te pille.

Nikolai observó como su hermana hacía lo que la pedía, escalando hasta el llegar encima del colchón y sentándose a su lado. El mayor echó su brazo por encima de sus hombros, acurrucándola a su lado en un medio abrazo, sintiendo el frío del miedo de su hermana disipándose en ella.

Se quedaron en silencio, en una simple ausencia de sonido que gritaba y hacía eco en los profundo del alma de los dos hermanos... Susurrando verdades.

Nikolai, por primera vez en toda su vida, no tenía comentarios irónicos ni palabras graciosas que hicieran sonreír a su hermana. No tenía el valor suficiente como para mirarla a los ojos en ese momento y decirla que todo estaba bien... No podía mentirla.

Respiró profundo, intentando relajarse. el país se estaba recuperando de una guerra civil mientras tenía a Shu Han y Fjerda amenazando por los lados. Cada día las cosas se estaban poniendo más difíciles.

Y luego estaba él...

T/N no le creía cuando decía que el Oscuro había muerto, no después de lo de La Rueca y su cumpleaños. Se levantaba unas dos veces por semana buscándolo para ver si él no había sido atacado como Vasily. Cada noche tenía que quedarse con ella hasta que se durmiera para que no se levantase 10 minutos más tarde llorando y preguntándole porqué la había dejado sola.

Además, la secta que ponía al Oscuro como su Sankto se estaba haciendo cada vez más grande, al punto que había tenido que llear a T/N a los jardines interiores para que no escuchase los clamores de los seguidores desde las murallas del Palacio.

Y luego estaban sus cicatrices. Cada vez que T/N venía comprobaba que las marcas negras que tenía en sus brazos no hubiesen se hubiesen expandido, con miedo a que él pudiera atacarla como lo hizo en el pasado... Había intentado por todos los medios proteger a su hermana de todos que ahora el problema estaba en él.

No era capaz de cuidar de ella. Tampoco de liderar un reino y menos de salvarlo de otra guerra. Él no era el salvador de Ravka ni el valiente corsario que la gente susurraba entre los pasillos. Él simplemente no podía....

Nikolai sintió a T/N reposar su cabeza en su costado, ya dormida. El joven rey paró de mirar las venas de sus manos y empezó a acariciar el cabello de su hermana pequeña, sintiendo su tranquilidad calarle en lo profundo de su alma, dejándole respirar tranquilo unos minutos antes de coger a la pequeña. Dejándola reposar su cabeza en su hombro y dirigiéndose a la habitación de T/N.

-----

Nikolai quitó un mechón de pelo del rostro de T/N antes de resoplar, cansado, apoyando su espalda en el cabecero de la cama de su hermana y estirando las piernas. Bajó su mirada a sus manos, a sus palmas extendidas y sus muñecas manchadas de sombras. Pequeñas venas oscuras recorrían su piel como finas cicatrices que le eran imposibles de evitar mirar.

Debería de haberlo anticipado. Debería de haber preparado la Rueca para un ataque tan grande como el que dió el Oscuro en vez de estar discutiendo con sus padres y Genya. Debería de haber visto cómo estaba T/N en la cena de su cumpleaños en vez de explotar y centrarse en Vasily. Debería de haberse quedado más en el Gran Palacio antes de irse a la Universidad de Ketterdam, a la guerra o al mar. Por lo menos podría haberla visitado de vez e cuando y no centrarse en su propio egoísmo y ambición. Debería de haber pensado en ella a diario en vez de en sus barcos voladores.

Y ahora era un monstruo, tenía parte del poder del Oscuro carcomiéndole desde dentro. Todo lo que más aterra a T/N está en el fondo de sí mismo, y sólo porque no supo prevenirlo.

Él creía que era una persona astuta e inteligente, pero el ver que su hermana seguía levantándose de madrugada casi tres veces en semana le apretaba el corazón y le cerraba la garganta. Esto era su culpa.

La persona que más amaba en todo este país que se caía a trozos, en todo este mundo, era su hermana. Y ella había terminado perjudicada por su negligencia.

Apretó sus manos sobre si mismas, sintiendo toda su sangre hervir en impotencia y desprecio. Tragó fuerte, intentando deshacerse del nudo en su garganta ates de llorar, restregándose los ojos e intentando no hacer ruido. Lo último que se merecía T/N era que la despertasen después de haberse recorrido el Palacio buscándolo sólo para asegurarse que él estaba sano y salvo, lejos de volcras y monstruos. Nikolai se secó las lágrimas antes de apagar la vela y dirigirse a la puerta.

-Lo siento.-Susurró Nikolai, intentando que su voz no se rompiese antes de darle un beso de buenas noches a su hermana en la frente y ponerse de pie. Se

3123 palabras.

1 note · View note