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MOYA MILAYA









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The soft waves meeting the shore had long gone with the sight of the edge of the land she had found herself on. Sight of the True Sea widespread on the horizon behind her.

The blue waters had been abandoned in a sea of emerald. Grass and flowers painting past her fingers, wind flowing through the greens as the seas would with its waves.

There was no passage of time to her anymore, sun no longer beating down on her to measure it any longer. All that mattered now were to keep her feet ever moving as the shadows of risen earth before her came neither close, as too remained far.

She would've considered the sight and the environment's' peaceful character otherworldly and enchanting, if only it hadn't been for her eyes fighting to keep open, to keep her feet from tripping over the flat soil.

Even in a field to roam with trace of humankind left behind to communicate with, there was no fear that if the end came after a miracle awakening anyone would take her body to research her for her Science.

The blue with silver Kefta had long been abandoned in the chamber. Perhaps even been hidden or burned by the man she once knew for all she knew.

Emiliya only wore her Kefta to blend in unknowingly within the Little Palace or the Army but never on the streets. On the streets she had camouflaged to not stand out upon leaving the Little Palace. Replaced her Grisha image for a dark blue trench coat fitted with a black shirt and trousers, dark brown boots and a crimson scarf. Attire that had each made it out of the sea with miraculously little to no damage.

She had always been able to fit in where she needed, to adapt her into an environment that would keep her safe and if she were to go now the ordinary attire would.

And whether that meant the streets of Ravka or Kerch, she wouldn't stand out as a new face: if one weren't to stare at the mutilation received. Regardless she would stand out elsewhere, whether she had kept her mouth shut or not for not being able to speak their languages.

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