#languageofsuffering

A deep breath filled her lungs with the cold, crisp air of winter. The skies were so clear out in the country of Kerch that it left Inej longing for the widened rodes of Ravka. The endless trails the Suli caravans that followed from town to city to the borders into Fjerda and Shu Han. Her hand wandered to the knife sheathed right over her heart, Sankt Petyr, the name left her lips, escaping from her lips as a whisp of smoke. Her first protector, the first knife she ever named... the knife Kaz gave her when he taught her to fight. Her hand held the leather wrapped handle gently as the steady thump of Kaz's cane interrupted the silence between them.

The ground around them was frozen as they made their way to the top of the hill, fields lay barren, the trees had shed their leaves and the Saints left the land to sleep and rest, awaiting the warmth of spring. Despite the sun and bright blue sky, it was freezing, tufts of snow and ice glittered with the sunlight while the silence continued to stretch on between them.

Inej had arrived in Ketterdam to deliver a pair of slavers to the Council to recieve their judgement when a message intercepted her departure. Written in the neat scrawl that belonged to Kaz Brekker, he'd ask for her help on a job. The Suli wasn't one to deny him, especially now that they tried to be whatever they were. It still felt vulnerable and new, but Inej was glad to be close to him again. That, however, didn't explain why they took a barge to Belent and then continued on foot and wagon ride until they reached a small settlement sorrounded by nothing but farmland.

As they reached the top of the hill Inej stopped next to Kaz, who seemed to be frozen. In front of them lay miles and miles of fields, unkempt and overgrown by straw like shrubs and bushes who seemed too stubborn to give into the cold onset of winter. Gnarled fruit trees seemed to form a small orchard around a modest farm house and a spacious barn, but the fence was old and broken in places as if this place had been left unattended for a long time.

Inej took a step closer towards Kaz, her shoulder nearly touching his and she could feel his warmth through the fabric of her dark teal cloak. "What are we really doing here, Kaz?" She asked, her voice was soft as to not startle him from his thoughts. Whatever this place was... it held the ghost of the past and Inej was not about to let Kaz get haunted by old fears again. They both still struggled enough with their demons as it were.

Wylan didn't mean to stiff the shopkeep. He honestly didn't - this was the first stand he'd seen in ages where the price was written out instead of a sign with just normal numbers on, and he had asked the price, in his most casual, just didn't see the sign way. He'd asked!

He just didn't realize the man had said a rounded number, one slightly lower, while pointing to the sign. He thought he'd paid right, he did, he was just so stupid about it. Wylan had seen the anger build, didn't know what to say, until it burst into the shopkeeper's fist. It wasn't the first time he'd felt so pathetic, but it was a new low, in public, with Kaz around to hear him yelp and flail, fall to the floor - but it was Kaz, then, at his side as stoic as ever. And it was Kaz who jerked, chin jutting over just so with a jawstrike aimed for Wylan's eye.

"I - Kaz?" He whispered. "I didn't mean to, I really didn't-"

&. 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

accepting @languageofsuffering

Lark crossed her arms over her chest and gave a shrug of her shoulders. She knew very well that Kaz Brekker didn't need coddling, on the contrary--he seemed almost seething at the thought, but that wasn't why she was there.

" I'm sure you are." She replied as her emerald gaze surveyed the other in attempt to ascertain if there was any injury he could be hiding.

" You and yours have the run of the palace for the most part." She informed him as she smoothed out her Inferni kefka. It felt strange wearing it again, but with the Darkling running amok, the crown needed loyal Grisha and she would rally behind Nikolai.

“ If you want me to understand, you’re gonna have to be a little more specific, Wylan. ” Kaz’s patience was waning, rapidly, and if he had to ask Wylan the same question one more time only to receive the same vague, pointless answers, he might just go berserk and give whoever was threatening him a run for their money.

Granted, he already had a good guess as to what was going on, nothing escaped Kaz Brekker’s notice, but he needed confirmation, or at least some semblance of it, needed more details, something to go off before he could act, and if he couldn’t get it from Wylan, he’d get it elsewhere, through different means, but it’d be a significantly easier and faster feat if the merchling just spoke already.

Uneven steps carried him closer to the other, his cane a continuous thudding against creaky wooden floorboards, the serried lines of his brows furrowed ever so slightly in question, anticipation, deep brown eyes narrowed and lowering to catch Wylan in their line of sight, expectantly — it was clear that Kaz was done asking, he was 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 answers,

“ Who would kill you if you told me? ”

"I - I can't, they'll -" His mind had seen it all, seen enough to fill in the blanks. What they would do to him, or even worse, what they might do to Jesper, or Kaz, or Inej ... He shivered, slamming his fists to his temples to try and drive out the images. It was all more than enough. His body was already aching, sleeves stained with blood, and if his ribs took another hit? It was already hard enough to breathe.

His wrists were so red they were bleeding in spots, the dark bruising too covered by the welts for him to even notice at this point. His eyes were too tired, He wasn't sure where he was. He'd been moved, yes... perhaps by Jesper, maybe? He couldn't recall, only knowing there was a haze when something warm was there, and his mind gave up, darkening. Perhaps he had slept, or just blacked out, and now Kaz was there, talking to him in that way that left so little room for argument.

"I... stadwatch. They were dressed like stadwatch. But... their guns looked more like what Jesper uses, I.." He shook his head as wildly as the ache in his neck could bare, hands clutching at his temple. "You can't, they'll kill you, too. I can't, I can't anymore."

While it was true they could go anywhere — and Wylan was interested in visiting Novyi Zem at some point — he didn't particularly feel the need to do so right away. He wanted to be here to see the aftermath of their actions on Ketterdam. On his father.

"I'm done running away." It was a decision he'd reached a while ago; ever since meeting Kaz and the other Crows. Now that he had a group that he could confidently call his friends, his family, Wylan felt like he could do anything.

Turning his attention to where Kaz's gaze lingered, soft brown eyes — once considered too soft by some — watched the fog pass over the inky depths. When he first arrived in the Barrel, this very same sight would have set him on edge, reminding Wylan that he didn't belong here. It was too cold, too uninviting, a far cry from warm hearths, cushy armchairs, and hot tea at regular intervals. But now, even if it still wasn't a sight he felt fond of, he was used to it. He'd adapted. It was a scene that no longer sent a chill of fear to run up his spine or make him constantly lament every small comfort of privileged life.

"...Do you think it's possible to take everything from him? To leave him with nothing?" Wylan didn't have to mention that he was, of course, referring to his father; he was at the top of the list of people they needed to deal with. He shifted on the spot, a hand tugging down his coat sleeve, an action to keep him busy as he spoke.

Harij has grown used to Kaz in his own way. If he's honest, he'd disliked him when he'd first gotten to Ketterdam. But the more he'd observed him, the more familiar he'd gotten with life here, the more those feelings had faded. He can't say there's trust there, but he respects him. He hopes-- foolishly, perhaps-- that Kaz holds the same sentiment towards him.

"Stay here," he says. "As long as I can, at least. It's not safe for me in Shu Han. They'll be looking for me there. I'm hoping I can disappear here. I won't risk being caught and returned to Ravka. I can make myself useful to the group, if that's what you're worried about."

Inej regards Kaz with slightly narrowed eyes. She's known him long enough to know that he keeps his plans-- and his emotions-- close to his chest. To know them would be to know the true Kaz Brekker, the one without defenses, and it's not something easily given. Trust is earned, and while Inej is confident that he trusts her, there's a difference between trusting someone to keep you alive and trusting someone with your life.