Chapter Text
Alina remembers nothing of the day she lost her family. Nothing except screaming. She doesn't often intend to think of her family - Ana Kuya would give her a lecture on being ungrateful if she heard such a thing - but some days she does anyway. This time, Alina lays in the field behind Keramzin staring at the bright sky. There are moments when the world fades away, she can feel the warmth of the sun and the fresh air and her eyes see everything but comprehend nothing. Maybe it was the smell of smoke from the kitchen, or maybe it was the bend of the light around her fingers but Alina couldn't escape the vision if she wanted to.
She remembered feeling safe. Whether there was a mother or a father was obsolete at this point, but at least she remembered being safe. And then she wasn't. What happened in between was nothing more than a flash of light, fire, screams and running. None of it matched the feeling of being alone and knowing that if she was to be safe again, it would have to be of her own making.
Arriving at Keramzin did nothing to rid Alina of that notion. She remembered reading once that childhood doesn't end at a certain age when a child decides they are grown. Alina knows that childhood is where no one dies and from the moment Alina set down her measly bag with one ragged cloak, she knew she was a child only in body. She does not remember who, she does not remember how or why. Alina is merely awake to a cruel world in which one has to carve out their own home. And Keramzin is not what she had in mind.
Sure, Ana Kuya ensures the children are fed, educated and disciplined to the best of her ability. Ana Kuya tries to prevent the children from bullying Alina for her different eyes and skin but that only ensures the taunts continue in the shadows. Alina will be forever grateful for Ana Kuya's assistance with her drawing lessons and allowing her to learn Shu, but she isn't a mother or family and Alina wouldn't waste her time pretending otherwise.
The closest thing to family Alina has at Keramzin is Maleyn Oretsev. He and Alina were known to disappear after chores into the woods for hours creating their own worlds and games where no one teases them for being different. Mal could spend forever in the woods hunting and living off the land if he so chose. Alina, on the other hand, could not survive without Mal. Being in the woods could be exhausting and while she could not deny the beauty of the woods and feeling free, she got much more joy of teasing and taunting her friend then spending time in the dirt and bugs. So, sometimes she would rather lay in the field and feel the warmth of the sun and imagine there was more to life for two orphans. And sometimes, she would feel something familiar in the back of her mind. When she came to, her arm would often be outstretched, fingers curled lightly as if reaching for something softly, grasping at something that couldn't be seen. And then she would remember who she was.
A thump of a body landing beside Alina woke her out of her reverie.
"I was going to put actual effort into scaring you but I realized it would've been a waste of my talents," Mal said through laughs at Alina's yelp.
"Oh, of course. Whatever would we do without your talents?" Alina replied with enough sarcasm that even Mal could understand.
"Exactly. I already dropped off the rabbits I caught, by the way, so we have some time before we get called back. What are you thinking about this time, Alina? Thinking about painting another sunset? Another deer? You only have a thousand of each."
"Some of them are sunrises you know," Alina began.
Alina paused, trying to remember who she was talking to. Alina loved Mal, truly she did. He was the brother she didn't know if she had, but sometimes even he didn't understand her. He always tried or tried to try, but Mal could never understand Alina's feeling that there had to be more. Just like Alina could never understand the feeling Mal got in the woods.
"I was thinking about my family-" Mal interrupted. After all, he had heard this a dozen times before.
"Ah come on, Alina. Why do you do this to yourself? You know we'll never find out and we have to learn to be okay with that."
"I am okay with it...or I think I am. It's not losing my parents that I was thinking about anyway."
"Then what was it?"
Alina paused. How could she explain this feeling that had been growing in her for longer than she remembered? How could she explain her fear of the dark? How could Mal understand that Alina felt that she needed to do something, needed to remember a part of her that was scratching at the surface?
"I just...I just have this feeling like I am missing something, you know? Like I'm only seeing half of the picture and no matter how hard I look, there's an itch that is really starting to get on my nerves." Alina rushed out, faster than most people would be able to hear. Mal wasn't most people though.
"Well, of course, you're only seeing half the picture! We only know Keramzin. We only remember one crummy place and spend our time doing chores, boring school and stealing away whenever we can. What do we know? We have forever to do something great. Like I'll be a famous tracker and you'll be a famous artist. We'll do our time in the army and then find the secrets of the universe, just like I promised!" Mal's grin only got bigger and bigger as he finished until Alina was sure it couldn't grow anymore.
Everything was simple to Mal. Sure, he was bullied but once he won a fight or turned on the charm, everyone loved him. Mal had a plan of serving in the army to gain status as a tracker then travel out of Ravka tracking whatever people asked of him until he eventually found a perfect farm. Even in his far off plans, he included Alina being right by his side, drawing and publishing tales of their exploits. Alina loved that part of Mal and she loved the future he made for the two of them. Even when Mal would talk about a wife or family -in the far, far future- she had to be okay with his best friend, and he claimed the same for Alina's future husband. It was a simple life for a simple boy who loved being free. And while a part of Alina wished she could live that fantasy, she knew that nothing would ever be so simple for her. She hated lying, but sometimes we lie to the ones we love if it meant they could be happy. Alina never intended to find a family at Keramzin and Mal was constantly sneaking up on her so she would always do what she could to make him happy. Even if it meant his dreams could be free while her truths had to be locked in a cage of her own making.
"Mal, are all of my future sketches to be of you? Because I know I am a decent artist, but I don't think the best artist in the world could find a way to fit your head on a canvas." Alina knew he would let it drop. He was only trying to cheer her up, and she would let him.
"Well, they don't all have to be of me. Some could be of us. Or what we see. Or whatever you want. But when I'm a famous tracker, those portraits will be the ones responsible for our groceries."
"Good to know you have some boundaries." Alina bumped Mal's side with her elbow earning a humph from him and just barely managed to miss his return blow when Ana Kuya cried-
"Alina! Mal! Where are you two? Those Grisha are here!"
Alina froze. She had forgotten about the Grisha tests. They happened once every few years, but Alina had never seen one before. Grisha, soldiers of the Second Ravkan Army led by The Darkling himself, would come to test every child and determine if they had powers. Some Grisha could control elements, some materials, and some could even control a person's heart. Many were afraid of Grisha, Alina didn't need to leave Keramzin often to know that, which is why she supposed they offered such a generous deal to the children and families. Food. Warmth. Education. Safety. A place in the King's army to save their country.
"Ugh, earth to Alina! Time to go get tested! Think if I could set off a really big explosion, I could convince them I'm Inferni? I don't want to be Grisha, but a bigger bed and more food sounds promising!" Mal began walking and talking away from Alina while she had barely managed to stand.
"Mal, I...." Alina didn't know what to say. She didn't know why a wave of fear enveloped her. She didn't know when or why her hand began twitching and reaching out ever so softly. After a moment, she looked back at Mal- her family, her best friend, the closest thing she had to a brother- and allowed herself to calm. She wasn't Grisha. She had never done anything Grisha-like. She was with Mal and nothing would change that.
"What Alina? Are you sick? Nervous? The older kids said it's only a little cut. I could hold your hand if you want?"
"No. Thanks, I'm um... I'm good. I think I just got up too fast."
"Maybe you were blinded by a vision of my future brilliance!"
"Maybe I became sick just thinking of it!"
And they chased each other back to the line of orphans waiting for their future to change.
Alina only paused once more.
When Mal was called, he did exactly what Alina expected him to do. He charmed the Grisha the best he could with his confidence. He didn't even flinch when he was pricked and when it was over he refused to leave until Alina was done as well. When Alina walked in and met eyes with the strangers, something in her wanted to run toward them while another part wanted to freeze. She did neither. She continued to walk and focus on keeping the fear off her face. To show her fear would be a weakness and as she and Mal often joked, it was best to hide your emotional breakdowns. She walked toward them trying to mimic Mal's easy grace, but mostly managing to look less afraid. When the one in the red coat asked for her hand, Alina gave it without a second thought. She could never have prepared for what happened next.
It was euphoric. It wasn't what she would have imagined power to be- a sudden grasp of everything and everything slamming into place. No, this was a feeling as familiar as Alina's face in the mirror or Mal's hand in hers. It was home. The itching that Alina thought was a slight irritant in the back of her head had been nothing. She now realized it had always been a loud scream that had finally begun singing. It was home. It was safe. It was what Alina had been reaching for all along.
"There's something here..." The Grisha in the red coat murmured.
Again, Alina froze.
No.
No! She thought.
This feeling, this power was hers. Hers. Not theirs. And she wouldn't let anyone take it from her. So Alina did the hardest thing she had ever had to do. She ripped it away.
She pushed. She ripped the feeling of home from her fingers, her arms and pushed it deep within her. She watched Mal the whole time. As she pushed away one part of herself, another called to her. Mal stared at her, a confused almost hurt expression. It was what made it so easy in the end.
"I thought... never mind. The child is not Grisha..." The red coat looked at the others. He didn't seem entirely convinced but Alina did not give them a chance to test her again. She took her hand back, walked calmly over to Mal and left the room.
Later that night, Alina left her room and went back to the field. She didn't know why she needed to go but her feet had brought her there before her mind realized she had given permission.
Something had been building in Alina. It had been several hours since the Grisha had left but each one had changed Alina.
The first hour, Alina felt lost.
The second hour, Alina was confused.
The third hour, Alina felt something burning inside her that was going to burst at any minute.
By the time Alina would eventually make it to the field, she was seconds away from exploding and she didn't know what would come out.
When she arrived at the spot she had been laying in hours previously, she felt nothing but release. Everything that had been piling up was climbing inside her higher and higher, until she didn't even know which way was up anymore. Alina did not know that she screamed. She didn't see how her skin glowed or how light exploded from her body. She looked forward into nothing and released everything she had been holding in for the last hours. Months. Years. Everything she had. She collapsed to her knees, and fell to the ground. Finally, she slept.