CHAPTER TWENTY

Flying

     Estelle didn't know how much she screamed. How loud it was, how long it was, all she knew was the pain. It felt like that was all there was and all there ever had been.

Whether it had been hours, days, weeks, or even months, she couldn't tell. It was only pain.

Torture.

The nichevo'ya dug their nails into her skin, bit her, broke her bones then reset them again, iron branded her, dislocated her limbs. All while she was kept in a cold cell and starved. Her arms were cuffed above her head in special Grisha-style cuffs that kept her hands apart from each other. If they were brought together, she'd be able to use her Small Science.

She didn't even know why she was being tortured anymore. Answer about...something. All she could remember was the Darkling coming in and demanding answers. Locations. Information. People. Things.

She couldn't focus anymore. She'd pass out and come to whenever, sometimes when the pain was too much or just sudden, she'd jolt.

Estelle was just beginning to close her eyes, the exhaustion falling upon her, when the dungeon doors slammed open, bringing her awake again. Her shaky breath frosted the air as footsteps echoed through the empty, cold prison. Her eyes were heavy, but they followed the dark figure that walked down the hallway to her cell. The black kefta billowed with his steps.

Her prison cell didn't need to be locked, but he kept it that way nevertheless. Estelle shook, barely able to keep her head up to watch him as he unlocked the door and walked in.

"You have a strong will, I'll give you that," he said. She could see his shadow soldiers hovering just outside the cell.

Estelle hung her head, shutting her eyes. "Go away."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Estelle."

"Why?" she snapped, heaving. "I don't know anything. I don't know anything!"

The Darkling watched her carefully. "Do you?" He let out a breath, taking a step closer. "Where. Is. Alina. Estelle?"

Estelle glared up at him. "I. Don't. Know."

"You see, I don't believe you," the Darkling said. "Where do you go when you leave me? When your mind leaves me? I know you've looked for them."

"Idi k vragu," she spat in his face, speaking Suli.

The Darkling chuckled humorlessly, wiping her spit off his face. "Suit yourself." He stepped aside, and the nichevo'ya slipped through the call bars and into her stall.

Estelle tried to prepare herself for what was inevitably going to come next. Unrelenting pain, torture.

It started off small. A long slash of it down her bare arm, drawing blood. The red liquid ran down her arm, but that was only the beginning.

That's when she went somewhere else. She imagined something else, anything else.

How she got here in the first place.

—

They'd been running as fast as they could with Nikolai's father slowing them down, his mother sobbing loudly the entire way, and Baghra yelling at them all to go faster. For a blind woman, she was uniquely fervent.

Estelle couldn't stop looking around, behind them, to make sure they weren't being followed. So far, they were in the clear. The Darkling had only gone after Alina so far.

She hoped Alina was alright. The girl was the only hope of tearing the Fold down, and not only that, but she was a good person, too.

The Star Summoner was considerably less powerful than the Sun Summoner. Estelle knew this well and wasn't bothered by it. She had other strengths.

The trouble came when the lake was in their sights. The moonlight reflected off its shimmering waters, the Kingfisher docked by the edge.

They were a few hundred paces from the shore when they heard something behind them. Estelle turned and gasped in horror. A dozen of the Darkling's nichevo'ya were making headway down the path towards them, making that ugly, inhuman gurgling sound.

"Run!" Estelle screamed to the group. "Get to the Kingfisher! Run!"

And they did. The King wheezed, but he did his best. Estelle helped Baghra, some others with them helped the Queen. They weren't a large group, but it would be a massacre if the nichevo'ya caught up to them. She couldn't let that happen.

The panic was like lightning. It fueled everyone to run faster, to get there quicker.

But they still weren't fast enough. The creatures were faster, larger, and getting closer with every moment. Estelle glanced back continuously, watching as the gap between them shrunk.

They weren't going to make it. That was the truth, and it hit Estelle like a brick. She stopped, and it took a second before Nikolai also paused and looked back at her.

"What are you doing? We have to go," he said, out of breath. "Estelle, we have to go!"
"You go," she told him. "I'll hold them off as long as I can."

Nikolai shook his head, panicked. "No, you can't do this. We can't stand here and debate this. Come on!"

"Which is why you have to listen to me," stated Estelle. "I can hold them off. There's only a dozen of them. I can do the Cut. But I can only hold them off for a little bit. So you have to run. Now."

It was another moment before he took a step back. "You better not die on me, Svjetlo."

"I'll see you, Lantsov," she simply replied. She tried to commit his face to memory again, just in case she never saw it again.

Then she turned to face the shadow monsters, gathering every shred of courage she could to stand up to them. She couldn't bring herself to not look back at the others, though.

They'd gotten a bit further away, Nikolai's father limping along. Nikolai looked back at the same time, and they met gazes one last time. His beautiful hazel eyes, filled with fear that they so rarely held in them.

Then he cracked a small grin, a bit of an upturning on the side of his face. "My guardian saint," he mouthed.

Estelle let out a small scoff despite her tears. "Go."

Nikolai nodded once, then turned and continued on. Estelle turned, faced the nichevo'ya, the snarling gaggle of creatures that were coming closer by the second. She gathered all the starlight she could—it was actually quite abundant in the night—and put her foot down to keep steady.

She took down the first two that reached her with the Cut. The next few she entangled with the starlight, trying to get them to stay back. However, they didn't seem disgusted or even afraid of the light.

It seemed to have been going considerably well, keeping them at bay. Until more of them arrived, then she was overtaken. There were too many of them, all at once.

As they tried to tear her apart, she saw the unmistakable shadow of a flying ship in the sky, flying safely away.

—

Estelle recovered consciousness again, still in the cell, still with her arms bound above her, still in the cold. Still a prisoner.

The Darkling stood on the other end of the cell, watching her. Almost...

"Amused?" asked Estelle. Her voice was sharp and felt like gravel. She could barely keep her eyes open.

"Fascinated," he corrected. "You are immortal, yet you are so prone to pain. Easily affected by it."

Estelle couldn't help herself. She laughed, the chuckles somehow racking her body with hilarity. "You are sick. What are you, obsessed? Psychotic?"

The corner of his mouth turned upwards, but his eyes were still empty. "Lucky, it seems." He turned to the Grisha by the door to the dungeon and nodded. "You won't be laughing in a moment."

The dungeon doors opened with a loud echo and Estelle could see a figure stumbling in, being pushed along by a Grisha guard. Only when they got closer, Estelle could see who it was. And then she could see exactly what she looked like, and imagine what she'd been through.

"Ana," breathed Estelle, tearing up. "Ana, what happened?" It seemed to have slipped her mind that Ana couldn't hear her. It also seemed to have slipped her mind that she would have been able to sign anything to her in the first place.

"It was...so unfortunate that a few of my Grisha stumbled upon your pirate friends going home," explained the Darkling with what might have been mistaken as remorse. "They were brought to me and..."

Estelle's face fell. "Where are the others, Aleksander?" He stared at her. "Answer me, for Saints' sake! Where are they?" she shrieked, her heart pounding in her stomach, struggling against her bonds.

Ana was pushed against her cell door, and Estelle could see the blood on her face. She might have had cuts on her, but some of the blood wasn't hers.

The blood wasn't hers.

Estelle's lungs were failing her. The room was spinning, the floor becoming less and less solid. He killed them. He didn't say it, but she now knew, in her heart and her head.

Lije, with her jokes. Jiel, always the one with the most fun. Farrah, who always managed to know. Emil, with her honor. Kenna, always the peacemaker. Mars, their motivator.

They were all dead.

"You monster!" she screeched to the Darkling. "You creature of the worst depths of Hell, I will kill you! I will make you regret that you were ever born!"

As she continued to scream pointless threats, he opened the door and pushed Ana in, not sparing another glance at them before walking away.

Estelle was a mess. She couldn't think about anything other than her friends.

Moments she couldn't forget. Raiding a military base in the Wandering Isle. Drinking on the deck after a successful escape from the Fjerdans. Stealing provisions from the Shu Han rich. Sailing the open seas together, with no country to tie them down, no other obligations keeping them.

Fond memories. Memories Estelle wished she could hold dearly for the rest of her life. However long it was going to be. At this rate, it appeared not much longer.

a/n- I'M BACKKKKKK. Idk long often the updates are going to be because I'm still super stressed with school and everything, but dw, I'll try. I'm writing the next chapters as I speak. Hope you enjoy!