Natasha Van Doren is a shadow summoner. She bides her time and resides in darkness, feared and esteemed by Ketterdam's civilians, a ghost . She cons Kaz Brekker into joining a heist he can't refuse and with thirty million kruge on the line, the crow...
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Natasha Van Doren's world was embraced by darkness. The voracious solitude of space, a void unfillable by light. She had learnt to cradle the abyss, manipulate the world with her powers, and command the essence of being.
For there can be no light without darkness.
Just as there can be no good without evil.
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MISFITS.
That's what they were.
A bunch of misfits, or in Natasha's words, fools. They were a group of teenagers tricked by the greed of humankind. Kaz Brekker could deny it all he wanted, greed might be his servant, but arrogance had chased him from his cradle and would stalk him to his grave.
"No mourners, no funerals."
The words were satin, lingering in the air like low-lying fog. The grey mist expanded across the polished water, small ripples causing the fog to explode like powdered volcanos. It reminded Natasha of stone skidding at night, waiting for the distant sound of a rock sinking into the abyss.
To Kaz, the words were the closest brush of good luck.
To Natasha, they were the words spoken in a eulogy. A reminder that no funeral would be planned for people like them. There would be no scattered roses or ivory headstones. Not even a tear. They were all wraiths - destined to be forgotten.
It was for the better, Natasha reminded herself. She would not dwell on what could be but rather focus on the life she wanted to create. She would not bother in self-pity or empathy only to find herself shouldered to the back of the crowd. She would not allow her life to be meanless.
If the world knew what she was, she'd be drowned in an ocean, similar to how a Grisha would be burned on a Pyke. Only that, Natasha had already swum through the torturous water and found herself dry land on Ketterdam's shore.
Natasha hated to admit she could already feel the water seeping in again.
The sickly smell of the reaper's barge coasted up her nose. The crackling embers of ash and scorched skin produced a nauseating feeling in her stomach. Greasy coils of bloody intestines bobbed on the water's surface, coiling around the limbs of rotting corpses.
Natasha wanted to creep her hand across the waters, encompass the bodies with darkness and allow them peaceful rest. Sour acid rose in her throat, causing her to choke on her words. She felt as if she would be sick if she looked a moment longer.
However, she kept her hands tight in her lap, avoiding the shooting glances of Kaz Brekker. The boy would stare at her silvered eyes, behind his stupid orange mask, before looking down at the withering pit in her lap. She bent her fingers back and forth, resisting the darkness yearning to escape through her fingertips. Natasha had kept the darkness at bay for too long.
"Are you alright?" His voice rippled with an edge like a knife slicing through the air. As he spoke, he had shifted to face her, his knee brushing against her leg. It seemed as if the notion was overlooked by everyone but Kaz himself.
"Fine." She said.
"Then stop blithering around like a fool. You'll capsize the boat," He turned back to stalk across the front of the small rowboat, his cane tucked primly beneath his shoulder. It swelled out his side like an additional limb, his shadow sprouting an extra arm. His silhouette waved into the stone-skimmed waters, fog drifting across the glass like a dulled soul.
Natasha scowled, flipping off the back of Kaz Brekker's slim frame. She fought to aim a spare ore at the back of his head, weighing the thin sliver of wood in her arms; as if Kaz could read her mind, he spun on his heel and snatched it out of her hand.
"Really?" he glared, almost amused.
Kaz left to sit beside Inej, their conversation escaping with the race of the wind. Light from the moon scattered across his face, his jaw glistening like the rough-cut edge of a diamond.
He looked like a boy who had escaped from the confines of a golden frame. The sort of painting she'd steal not to prove a point but simply because the portrait was handsome. Her cheeks crimsoned; Natasha thanked the saints that she had the silvery veil to cover the blush that passed over her face.
She had almost refused to wear the stupid costume. They were silks stolen from the backrooms of Tante Heleen's House of Exotics. Kaz hadn't bought her options, not as if she expected a wardrobe of choice. He had held the transparent glittering material to light, his eyes not deceiving a single emotion. Kaz twisted around as Natasha changed, not that it would matter as she had already circled her body with a mass of shadow.
She had swept out of the clouds moments later, the silks pressed against the curve of her breasts, and her long legs caused the dress to look even shorter. Kaz had eyed her up and down, rocking his cane between his palms before turning towards the boat.
The ebony sky held no star, darkness unfolding across its length. Natasha tipped her head to face the moon, wallowing in the soft opalescent light. Her slim cheekbones glowed pink beneath the veil - sparkling like diamonds.
Cruel beauty.
Those were the only words she could describe the night with, a sweeping robe of desolation, bearing no grief, no joy, absolutely nothing. In a sacrifice for life, the night rid itself of all emotion.
Because as foretold.
Light could not exist without dark.
A/N
-This chapter is so short, so apologies for that! I changed some parts of chapters one, two and three to match the new plot of Natasha being a shadow summoner. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please vote and comment if you did!
