milly historys.🌶

Chapter 1

The pen scratched against the paper, tracing the fine lines of a new mountain. The smell of ink was comforting, a welcome escape from the curious stares and whispers that always seemed to follow me. I was lost in my drawing, as usual, trying to ignore the anxiety gnawing at my stomach. Being here, in the Second Army, working as a cartographer alongside Alina, was a dream I had never dared to speak aloud. But it was a dream tinged with gray.

“Isabelly? Are you listening to me?”

Alina’s voice jolted me back to reality. I looked up, feeling my cheeks flush. She was watching me with a raised eyebrow, her brown eyes filled with a mix of familiarity and a hint of impatience. Alina had always been the star — the one who spoke her mind, who was never afraid of anything. I, on the other hand, was the shadow, the whisperer.

“Sorry, Alina,” I said, my voice almost a whisper, as always. “I was… thinking.”

She sighed, a slight smile playing on her lips. “Always thinking, huh? Come on, Mal and I are heading to the mess hall. Are you coming?”

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. Mal. Mal was the sun that lit up my days, the melody that lulled me to sleep in my dreams. And there he was, standing just behind Alina, with that easy smile that always melted my heart. His blue eyes, once so bright and carefree, now carried the weight of war. Yet, there was still a spark of warmth when he looked at me.

“Sure,” I managed to say, carefully closing my sketchbook. I caught him wink at me — a small gesture shared only between us — and warmth spread through my chest. But then he turned back to Alina, and the way his eyes lingered on her, the way he laughed at her jokes… it was a silent blow, but an effective one.

At the orphanage, I was the shadow that followed her, the fear that kept me from stepping away. When Mal arrived, he became a ray of light for Alina. For me, he was an enigma. I watched him from a distance, too shy to get close, too afraid of being rejected. But he was persistent, and his genuine kindness opened a small crack in my guarded heart. At ten years old, friendship blossomed into something deeper — something I hid, a silent, painful secret. How could I ever compete with Alina? With her courage, her beauty, her voice that never faltered? I blamed myself for my own cowardice, for my inability to fight for what I wanted.

We walked down the corridor, Mal and Alina’s footsteps firm and confident, mine hesitant. The headquarters was a maze of hallways and uniformed people, and every shadow seemed to hide a nightmare. Since I was a child, shadows had followed me — not just the ones cast by trees or walls, but a deeper darkness, a formless mass that whispered in my dreams. I had always ignored it, dismissing it as my overactive imagination.

In the mess hall, the noise was deafening. We found an empty table in the corner. Alina sat across from Mal, and I took the seat beside her, clutching my cup of tea. I watched them, that familiar feeling of not belonging creeping over me.

“I heard General Kirigan is going to be here today,” Mal said, his voice slightly lower, his eyes restless. “To check on the new recruits.”

Alina nodded, a slight shiver running through her. “They say he’s… intense.”

A chill ran down my spine at the mention of the General’s name. The most powerful Grisha, the leader of the Second Army. The man who could bend shadows to his will.

“Are you okay, Isa?” Alina asked, noticing my silence.

I nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, it’s just… the tea’s hot.”

Mal gave me another one of those looks — the kind that seemed to see straight through my flimsy excuses. One day, maybe, I would have the courage to tell him the truth. To tell everyone the truth. But for now, I would remain the timid sister, the silent cartographer, lost in my drawings and my unspoken love. And I wondered if, one day, the shadows that haunted me would be as real as the ones Kirigan commanded.

The sound of Alina and Mal’s conversation was a constant echo in my day. I was content being the shadow, the listener, the one who observed the world through the spaces between words, while my sister and Mal filled the air with their laughter and plans. We were sitting on the grass near the camp, the sun already setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. Alina talked about her dreams of a quieter future, where she and Mal could finally have a real home. Mal listened with his usual devotion, his easy smile warming the air around us. I, on the other hand, just kept drawing, capturing the soft light of that moment, the fleetingness of a happiness that seemed so fragile.

“Isabelly, you’re quiet today,” Mal noticed, turning to me, his blue eyes meeting mine.

“I’m just… enjoying the view,” I murmured, shrinking a little. My pencil kept moving on the paper, tracing the outlines of the distant trees.

Alina laughed. “She’s always enjoying the view. Or lost in one of her imaginary worlds.”

I gave a weak smile, feeling the blush rise to my cheeks. It was better for them to think that than to know the truth: that I was constantly torn between the love I felt for them and the silent pain of seeing how perfectly they fit together.

The next morning brought an unusual silence. I woke up feeling an emptiness beside me — the space where Alina should be was cold. My heart tightened. I left the tent, my eyes scanning the camp in search of her. A soldier rushed by and I stopped him, my voice firmer than usual, pushed by the anxiety swelling in my chest.

“Where’s Alina Starkov?” I asked.

He stopped, looking surprised at my boldness. “The cartographer? She was sent to the Fold. A special escort with the tracker Mal Oretsev and others.”

My world trembled. The Fold. The dark, monstrous rift that split Ravka in two. The place where my nightmares took shape. My heart sank into my stomach like a heavy stone. I spent the whole day sitting on my bed, my knuckles white from clenching my hands, praying to every god that my sister, my only family, would be safe. I couldn’t draw, couldn’t eat. Every shadow passing by the tent felt like the darkness that had always haunted me — but now it seemed ready to swallow my sister whole.

The next morning woke with a commotion. The buzz of frantic voices pulled me from my restless sleep. Something had happened. My legs carried me outside the tent, my mind foggy from worry and lack of rest.

“They found her! The Sun Summoner!” The whispers spread like wildfire. “They’re taking her!”

My blood ran cold. Sun Summoner? No… it couldn’t be.

And then I saw her. Alina. She was being escorted — no, dragged — alongside General Kirigan, the commander of the Second Army, the most powerful Grisha in Ravka. The Shadow Man. My entire world, already shaken, collapsed. Alina — my sister, my only family — was being taken, her wide, terrified eyes struggling against the firm hands of the Grisha holding her.

The sweetness and innocence that had always defined me shattered into a thousand pieces. A fury I never knew existed ignited in my veins. Fear gave way to burning rage, to an unshakable determination. Like hell I would let my only family be taken from me like this. No.

My eyes scanned the ground desperately, searching for something, anything. My gaze landed on my sketchbook — my constant companion, full of my creations and secrets. Without thinking twice, I grabbed it, the familiar weight solid in my hands.

With a scream that tore from my throat — a sound I never knew I was capable of — I threw it with all my strength. The book hit the General’s head with a dull thud, making him stumble for a moment, his expression shifting from authority to surprise.

“Let her go!” I shouted, my voice trembling but firm as I stepped toward them, my fists clenched, the fear completely eclipsed by the fierce need to protect Alina. No matter how powerful the General’s darkness was, I wouldn’t let him take my sister.

I would no longer be the shadow. I would be the fury.

My eyes narrowed, locked onto General Kirigan. I could feel the surprised and frightened stares of the soldiers and Grisha around us, but I didn’t care. My fury was like tunnel vision, and the only thing that mattered was Alina. My sketchbook had fallen to the ground, and I stepped forward, fists clenched.

“Let go of my sister,” I said, my voice low and cold, each word laced with a rage I never knew I possessed.

Kirigan, who had recovered quickly from the shock of being hit by a book, looked at me. His dark eyes, which seemed to absorb all the light around them, scanned me from head to toe. There was a mixture of perplexity and a hint of cold amusement on his face. He released Alina, who stumbled back, her eyes wide, shocked both by the General and by my sudden outburst.

“Isabelly, what are you doing?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Mal, who had just run over, stood by Alina’s side, his hand on her shoulder, disbelief written all over his face. “Isa, are you insane? That’s General Kirigan!”

I ignored them. My gaze stayed fixed on Kirigan. He tilted his head slightly, a small, dangerous curve tugging at his lips.

“You attacked me, girl. No one has ever dared to do that,” he said, his voice velvety but edged with steel. “And for what? A... cartographer?” His eyes flicked to Alina, a spark of something unreadable in them.

“She’s my sister,” I growled, refusing to look away. “My only family. And you’re not taking her anywhere against her will.”

Kirigan stepped toward me, and the Grisha guards surrounding him moved as one, ready to act. I didn’t back down. Fury filled me, and for the first time in my life, the fear of shadows didn’t paralyze me—his shadows.

“And what are you going to do, girl?” he asked, his voice still soft, almost inviting. “You’re not a Grisha. You are... nothing.” There was a challenge in his eyes, an attempt to test me, to crush me under his presence.

“I’m a sister,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “And I won’t let you hurt her.”

One of the Grisha, a bulky man clad in dark armor, stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “General, I can handle her.”

Kirigan raised his hand, stopping the man. His eyes returned to me, and for the first time, I saw something beyond the coldness. A flicker of curiosity.

“No,” he said, his voice resonating. “She’s... interesting.” He took another step, closing the distance between us. I could feel the cold radiating from him, the darkness that seemed to seep from his very skin. “You have courage, Isabelly Starkov. Or stupidity. I haven’t decided which yet.”

Alina stepped forward, her voice trembling. “General, please! She doesn’t know what she’s doing! She’s just trying to protect me!”

Kirigan didn’t take his eyes off me. “It seems she knows exactly what she’s doing, Starkov. A rare kind of loyalty, even among sisters.” He paused, then a slow, predatory smile spread across his face. “Very well. Take them both. To the Little Palace.”