xiii. broken promises
— Randvi

RANDVI WAS DREAMING of Fjerda, again.

She dreamt of the luscious green forests filled with tall pine trees and the whistling songs of birds. She could feel the crunch of leaves and sticks beneath her feet, the brush of pine needles against her skin as she crouched behind a tree stump. Somewhere in the distance she could hear her brother call out to her with a laugh, as though they were children again playing a game of hide and seek.

But all too soon the sunlight creeping from beneath the trees disappeared, along with the sound of laughter and birds. Instead, in its place Randvi saw nothing but a black sky filled with the faint twinkle of stars. A thick blanket of snow hid what had once been meadows and bustling forests. A bitter wind nipped at her skin, snow filling her eyes, and freezing her clothes.

She was back in the nightmares that haunted her every day. The nightmares that she'd awake from with a jolt, a layer of sweat coating her body. Although, she could always escape those nightmares, always waking in the comfort of her room, wrapped up in a pile of blankets far from the cold.

Only this time she couldn't wake up, no matter how much she tried. She was forced to relive the moment her life had ended, forced to witness the memory she'd tried so hard to forget.

The storm howled, whistling against Randvi's ears, her skin being battered with snow, as though she were being picked by a thousand needles. Yet, despite the numbing cold of the snow beneath her body, she lay as still as she could, not daring to move.

She watched as a sea of light illuminated the area around her home, the glow of touches glistening against the fallen snow. She lay hidden in the darkness, with only the stars to watch over her.

Then, she heard the shouts, but could only place one of the voices - her mother's.

"Where is she." Growled a distant voice.

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"Check the house again. And the fields out back. I'm not leaving without her."

Randvi immediately rolled onto her back, lying herself as flat as she could. Her breathing grew deep, her body shaking from the bitter cold of the night and fear of being found. The twinkling stars above her offered no comfort, instead she squeezed her eyes shut, praying the nightmare would end.

The gods couldn't abandon her now, not when she needed them most. She was being hunted for possessing their gift, even if the druskelle sought to punish her, the gods wouldn't. Would they?

The sound of footsteps crunching in the snow made Randvi's ears prick up, but they grew louder and closer, rather than fainter. She held her breath.

But then a hand seized her arm, forcing her to her feet. In the twilight, her eyes met with a strangers. His eyes burned like fire, his face masked with a thick beard, and body laced with huge furs.

The druskelle.

Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach, her eyes wide in panic, and body heavy with fright. It didn't matter how much she pulled and pushed, she was half the size of the man, and no match.

It was easy for him, too easy.

"I've found her!" Shouted the druskelle, his face lighting up with pride, as though he'd caught a rare animal on a hunt.

Randvi felt herself being dragged through the thick snow, the cloak hood falling from her head, revealing her features. She shouted protests and cries, letting her body grow heavy in attempt to prevent the druskelle from dragging her any further.

But nothing worked. She was being dragged to her death, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

In front of their home stood no more than five Druskelle, all clothed in heavy bear furs, sharp axes hanging from their belts. In the arms of a tall man stood her mother, the hope that her daughter had escaped draining from her. Her eyes were filled with fear and pain, her knees growing weak.

"Don't hurt her. Please .. please don't touch her!" Her mother shouted in a strained voice.

She lunged forwards in attempt to reach Randvi, but was dragged away in an instant by a druskelle, who held her tightly in his arms, out of reach.

In the flickering light of touches, the druskelle's figures looked more menacing than Randvi thought possible. They were blood thirsty, like predators eyeing up their prey.

"So this is the drüsje that killed the farmer." Said a druskelle Randvi guessed to be a leader of sorts. "The one that thinks herself a god."

"She didn't kill him!"

"One more word from you and I'll rip out your throat." He snarled at her mother, their faces so close they could have been touching.

Then, the druskelle began to stalk towards her, a coy grin on his lips, hands crossed in front of him.

Randvi had always thought the druskelle to be warriors, men chosen by the gods to protect Fjerda and its people. Her father had been druskelle, her brother too, but what honour had it brought them? That night, they had turned on their own people, preying on them, branding them traitors for a crime they hadn't committed.

"The punishment for murder is death, I'm sure you know that." Said the druskelle calmly, but there was a manic flicker behind his eyes. "But a murder committed by a drüsje is much more serious. Do you know what happens to Grisha?"

"I'm not Grisha. I'm not drüsje." Randvi replied, but her voice was small, barely a whisper, and trembled as she spoke.

Some of the men around her began to laugh, cackling like witches as though she'd told a joke. How could they laugh in a situation like this? How could they laugh as a child was being accused of a crime she hadn't committed?

The druskelle had no honour.

"Drüsje," The druskelle continued as though he hadn't heard her. "Are an insult to Djel, and to nature. They are sent to the Ice Court, where they are tried for their crimes, and sentenced to death."

Was that really to be her fate? Killed for a crime she hadn't committed? Labelled something she was not? Randvi was not Grisha, she never wanted to be Grisha.

"You will be arrested for murder, and sent to the Ice Court to await trail." The druskelle announced, as though he were reading a mental script. "You will be tested as Grisha, and if found to be one, will be tried and sentenced to death."

Her mother let out a small sob, her body collapsing under the weight of her pain. She had told Randvi to run, to not let herself get caught, but she'd failed. She'd failed her mother, and her gods. She had been stupid enough to announce her gift to the village in hopes of making friends, but it had only made her enemies.

It wasn't just her facing with the price of her nativity, it was all those she loved.

Everything happened so quickly, and yet so slowly, Randvi barely had a second to register it. She stood frozen to the spot, held in a Druskelle's now looser grip. With a shout, her mother had somehow slipped out of the guards grip, and slipped an axe from his belt. In one swift throw, with perfect aim, she threw the axe towards the leader, watching as it landed in his chest, knocking him onto the snow beneath.

Randvi should have run to her mother, or run as far away as she could, but she couldn't. She couldn't move, or think, or speak, or even cry. She didn't know what to do, nor what was going on. It was a decision that haunted her every day, taunting her.

Just as quickly as her mother had broken free and made a run for Randvi, another druskelle appeared behind her. Only this time he was less forgiving, his patience wearing thin with the death of his commander. No restraint came, no punch, or shout.

Instead, he appeared behind her mother, axe in hand, his face emotionless. The druskelle grabbed her mother, and without a second thought, ran his blade across her neck, sending blood across the bright white snow and Randvi's face.

Randvi awoke suddenly, her eyes fluttering open, but her vision blurred. She had escaped her nightmare once again, a layer of sweat coating her forehead. Her chest heaved, her body shaking. She lent her head back and closed her eyes again.

All she wanted was for the nightmares to finally stop, for her memories to disappear.

As she went to bring her hand up to rub her forehead, she couldn't move. In a panic, she opened her eyes again, tugging at her hands, but it was no use. They were tied behind her back, she was rendered useless.

There was some familiarity to where she found herself sat tied up. She recognised the colour of the tents, and the muddy ground around her. The place was swarming with guards, both First and Second Army. The first time she had been at the camp it had been almost deserted, but now it thrived.

She was back in Kribirsk, back at the military camp bordering the Fold.

The memories of what happened flooded back to her all at once, overwhelming her. She began to tug harder and harder at her restraints, desperate to be free. She couldn't wait around for the Darkling to return. She had to get back to Kaz, the crows would be waiting for her. Or perhaps they knew where she was, and were waiting to rescue her.

"It doesn't matter how hard you pull. Those are fabrikator made, you won't be able to break them that easily." Said a voice in front of her.

Randvi slowly let her gaze rise. Stood in front of her was a man wearing a red kefta, flagged by two First Army guards. Had he been the one to knock her out and wake her again? He'd used his drüsje magic on her, and Djel forbid what she'd do to him if she ever broke free.

"Speak to me again drüsje and I'll cut out your insides and use them to hang you from a tree." She snarled, but it was nothing more than an empty threat.

"And how do you intend to do that when you're in irons?"

"That's enough, thank you Ivan."

Out of pure instinct, Randvi felt herself recoil at the voice, moving as far away as her restraints would allow her. She would not admit it, not there, but she feared the Darkling. He was the source of all suffering, the reason for her fathers death, and the deaths of hundreds of others. He had been the one to create the Fold, the one that would stop at nothing in the quest of power.

"I have some questions, and you have the answers."

"I have no intention of answering your questions." She spat, tugging at her restraints again. "I'll be out of here soon. People will come looking for me."

"Oh yes, your criminal friends. But, where are they? If you believe they'll come to your rescue, why is there no sign of them?"

He was toying with her, Randvi knew that, she was no fool. The Darkling wanted to break her, make her spill everything she knew. If she had the answers he sought, then she would take the answers to her grave. Kaz would come for her, she knew he would, because he always did. The two always saved each other, and he would never abandon her.

"Tell me what you saw." The Darkling asked calmly, as if he often found himself in situations like these. Although it was less of a question, more of a command.

He had no authority over her. She answered to no one but herself. She would not even answer to the gods anymore.

Randvi stared up at him, not daring to blink, not daring to look away and show just how fearful she really was. Before her stood one of the most powerful Grisha never known. But it wasn't his power that scared her, it was his ambition. He would stop at nothing to find his sun summoner, and if that meant killing everyone in his path, he would.

It was stupid to keep secrets from him, but Randvi's pride had gotten the best of her. He sought knowledge and secrets, but that was the one thing Randvi could keep from him.

He could never kill her, because then he'd never have his answers.

"You don't feel like talking?" The Darkling sighed, then nodded towards Ivan, who then took a few steps towards her.

She couldn't describe the sudden onset pain she felt, but it were as if the life were being sucked out from her. She found herself gasping for air, her lungs crumbling inwards, and her chest constricting. Randvi let out a choking cough, blood dripping from her lips.

Even though no one were touching her, it were as though someone was torturing her from the inside out. A pain so unbearable she thought she might finally break.

Then, the pain suddenly stopped, and Randvi felt the air return to her lungs. She wanted to rub the tears from her eyes before anyone could see them, but she couldn't. She was powerless and weak, and everyone knew it.

"Leave us." Said The Darkling, and in an instant his guards filtered out of the tent, leaving the two of them alone.

This couldn't be how she died. She wanted to die honourably fighting off an army, or sacrificing herself for someone, not tied to a pole in a dirty tent, only to be tossed into an unmarked grave.

Randvi watched through blurry eyes as The Darkling knelt before her, his eyes burning holes into hers. In a moment of anger and frustration, she spat out at him, droplets of blood landing on his cheek as he turned away.

"And you wonder why the world views Fjerdans as barbarians." He scoffed, bringing his hand up to wipe his cheek.

"That's funny coming from a man who kills without conscience." Ranvi snarled, tugging at the iron cuffs around her wrists.

"Oh, but you see, that's what unites us," The Darkling grinned. "We both kill to survive. Yes .. I've heard the stories. The witch who slaughtered a dozen druskelle."

Ranvi felt her heart drop at that. How did he know about her? Well, whatever stories he'd heard, they'd become exaggerated over time. She hadn't killed a dozen druskelle, it had only been one. And she wasn't a witch.

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Don't lie to me." He snapped, his eyes flickered across her features. "I know all about you. I know how the druskelle hunted you, and how you killed to survive. You have a gift, a rare one, a valuable one. I've seen many talented Grisha in my time, but non like you, not ones that can escape druskelle as nothing more than a girl."

"I'm not Grisha." Randvi spoke, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Then why did your power react the night you touched me in the Little Palace?" Randvi scoffed at his words, rolling her eyes. "I am a living amplifier. When a Grisha touches me, their power is revealed. If you aren't Grisha, why did you react?"

Randvi had no answer to that, or perhaps she just didn't want to answer. She couldn't accept that she was Grisha. Accepting that meant accepting she was what the druskelle saw her as - a demjin, the devil.

"You could join my side. You could fight amongst your kind, as one of us. You could be more powerful than you could ever imagine."

"I'd rather die than be one of your whores." She snarled.

"Fine." And the moments softness in his eyes had vanished, his face contorting. "You will tell me what you saw, or I will hunt down everyone you hold most dearest, and destroy them. I will kill all those you love until you have nowhere, or no one to turn to but me."

Randvi felt the lump in her throat grow bigger, a sob threatening to spill. Perhaps she should just tell him what she had seen, and join his army. What else did she have? If the price of keeping a secret was the death of those she loved, was the secret really worth keeping?

Then, the Darkling's words played over in her head. Where were the crows? She had believed they'd come to her rescue, that Kaz would have her back no matter what. But if that were the case, where was he?

Perhaps this had been Kaz's plan all along. Perhaps he always knew that Randvi would get caught, and it was the perfect way to prevent her keeping her part of the deal with Pekka. What if he had abandoned her? What if, even after all those years, he had never really cared for her?

The thought made her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. The boy she had planned to kill, the boy she had no loyalty to, the boy she planned to betray had betrayed her first. What hurt more was the way her decision to kill Kaz slowly faltered away. The weeks they'd spent hunting the sun summoner, Randvi's intent on killing Kaz had almost all but vanished. She had grown close to him, grown to care for him.

She had spent weeks lying about how she felt, convincing herself Kaz were better off dead, and that all she wanted was her freedom. But that was not true. All the wanted was Kaz.

She had fallen for the one person in Ketterdam who would never love her.

Randvi had searched for signs in things that deep down she knew meant nothing. She overthought every time he picked her to do a task, every time he smiled at her, every time he'd gaze into her eyes. She had convinced herself that Kaz cared for her, when perhaps he never had.

She had been nothing more than a convenience.

"But you can't." Randvi finally breathed out as the Darkling stood up, her eyes trained on his. "I don't have anyone or anything you can destroy. I do not know love, or shelter, or home. You cannot hunt and something that does not exist."

The words hurt her to speak, but they rung true. She had no one, and never had. No one would come looking for her, no one would spare her a second thought. She'd be forgotten, just like her mother and father had been.

"That's what really unites us. Loneliness." She whispered, watching as the Darkling's cruel mask faltered for a moment. "You may think Alina will love you, but she won't. We will always be alone, and unloved. That is what fate has in store for us."

Without another word, and with a bitter scowl, the Darkling turned on his heel, storming out of the tent and down the muddy path outside, flagged by two guards.

Then, as soon she Randvi knew she were alone, truly alone, she let a sob slip her lips, and her tears roll endlessly down her cheeks. She had no one to comfort her, no one to hold her as she wept. All she could do was bring her knees up to her chest, and pray that there was someone left in the world that could set her free.

authors note ;

hello everyone ! I just want to apologise for how there hasn't been much of a focus on Randvi and Kaz in the past few chapters. I just really wanted to delve into Randvi's past a bit and set up scenes for later chapters.

I plan on writing three acts, ending with the plot in Crooked Kingdom, so I didn't want to make every chapter about Kaz or everything would be too rushed and forced. Thanks for reading this, it means the world to me <3