Chapter Text
Prologue
It was a beautiful autumn afternoon in Os Alta, with the trees slowly changing colour and transforming the palace gardens into a sea of green, yellow and red. The nights had already begun to carry the first hint of frost, but the days were still warm enough.
But as the general of the Second Army, Aleksander Kirigan barely had any time to enjoy the days and frolic in the sun. His desk full of paperwork, as the tsar graciously had given him a bit more wiggle room and a sliver of more freedom for his Grisha and the Second Army (but with that there also came a wagon load of unwanted work, that was to be loaded on him). The tsar was young, having only ascended the throne some five years ago and the carelessness of his princely days had carried over to his reign so far. Prone to focus on his own enjoyment, pushing important tasks towards others. In a way Aleksander was thankful for the loosened leash.
His current workload was easier than usual, the massive earthquake that had hit southern Fjerda and Northern Ravka in the year before, had lulled the conflict with Fjerda to a minimum. Occasional attacks by small groups of druskelle, but Fjerda was licking its wounds. Looking inward instead of towards Ravka. Even though Chernast had been affected, the Sikurzoi and most of Northern Ravka were not densely populated. Some mining villages were hit, but all in all not many casualties, only a lot of destruction.
Fjerda had been hit so much harder than Ravka, which now only had the conflict with Shu Han still stewing at the Southern border. In theory it would be the ideal time to attack Fjerda, to weaken it further. To expand Ravka into the North and have a way around the Fold. But with the tsar just having married a Fjerdan princess a few years prior, Aleksander suspected that this plan would be soundly rejected.
Maybe it was time to pierce more into Shu Han territory. The tsar would hesitate – but when did he not – but Shu Han would be a much more valuable ally than Fjerda. If they could be convinced to drop their barbaric experiments on Grisha.
Of course, the most pressing problem for Ravka, remained the Fold, dividing Ravka, making trade and prosperity so much harder.
But still something was brewing, Aleksander felt it like others might tell the changing of the weather. Something was coming and he was too old to assume, that it would be good.
With too many thoughts swirling through his head, none of them leading to something useful or requiring immediate action, Aleksander resolutely shut them down and went back to the stack of papers on his desk. Reports from the second army commanders, from his spies, requests for supplies, some drivel begging him or the Grisha to perform miracles, some propaganda handed out by the church or some believers about the coming of the Sun Saint.
As he was working routinely through the letters, and his duties towards the Second Army, his thoughts were suddenly pulled back into a sharp focus when he came upon a letter from one of his lieutenants, stationed just North of Ryevost. Sergej Petrov wrote of a new religious cult, worshipping the sun summoner that was to come. Nothing unusual at the first glance, but Petrov was disturbed by the violence these members brought upon themselves. Castigating each other until blood was drawn, until members passed out. All in the eye of the public, with their leader preaching on the marketplaces of some small mountain villages. Aleksander made a note to have this investigated further and penned a missive back to Petrov to keep an eye on the group.
His concentration was disturbed by a heavy knock on his study door.
“Come in.”
After his consent, Dimitri, his most trusted heartrender and current right hand (as much as he could allow it with everything in his life), stepped in. Aleksander waved him nearer, impatient to get this disturbance over and continue with his tasks. His thoughts still occupied with Petrov’s letter.
“Moi Soverenji….” Dimitri’s voices tapered off, his voice unusually unsure, nothing more coming after the initial address.
“Yes?” It did come out sharper than he wanted, but he really did not appreciate this hesitation. Not today. Normally Dimitri, was on point, rarely wasted his words on unnecessary information and was able to convey things as brief as possible.
His right hand gulped audibly, but Aleksander waved for him to continue, still not looking up from the missive in front of him.
“There is a woman at the gates. In a fine carriage with some servants.” Dimitri placed a weird emphasis on the last part and stopped speaking again. What an odd thing to emphasize.
“And?”
“She has given her name as Lady Kirigan.”
Aleksander’s head shot up. That definitely had his attention. Another senseless woman trying to lay a claim on him. There had been others in the past, claiming to be his wife mostly.
“Lady Kirigan.” The General’s voice was dripping with disdain.
“Yes, she claims to be your aunt, mistress of the Kirigan estates in Tsibeya, and wishes to speak to you.”
That was new. Too dumbfounded to respond, Aleksander stared at Dimitri for a few breaths before opening his mouth again.
“Bring her to me.”
Aleksander did not know what had come over him at that moment. Normally he would have women like that chased away from the gates.