Keramzin was set ablaze in the fall.

Not with fire, no. With color. Since the Darkling scorched the landscape of the valley all those years ago, a new forest had grown up through the ashes, bright and full with life. The trees were tall enough now to tower over the massive house, raining down their leaves in brilliant bursts each year.

And each year, Alina lay back in the meadow with Mal, and they watched the dying leaves make their final descent. It was beautiful, and for Alina, sad. The leaves which blazed so brightly reminded her of Inferni fire. This was one of the few time Alina missed the Grisha. This one time each year, she felt a little pull in her stomach, an ache in her heart. For a brief moment, she longed for the glittering domes of the Little Palace- for the rush of Squaller winds by the lake, the light of Bahgra's hut in the distance. The overwhelming opulence of every corridor, every room. But then she would blink, and the image would fade. That wasn't her reality anymore, nor did she want it to be. The Grisha had become a dream to Alina,a vague memory that lived in the back of her mind

. And she was fine with that. At least, that's what she told herself.

Alina was pulled from her reverie by a small tug on her skirt. She turned, shaking her head as if it would dispel of all her thoughts. At her feet stood a little boy of no more than eight years with a grin stretched impossibly wide.

"Sofya!" The boy called her by her new name- the name she had chosen to match her new life. "Come play Apple Bash!"

Alina smiled. She was familiar with Apple Bash- it was something Mal had invented one autumn when Alina had made one too many apple cakes. "Apple cake, apple cake, apple cake! All we eat is apple cake!" He'd yelled jokingly, just barely being able to speak through his laughter. "I shall dispose of these apples! No more apples!" He threw an apple up in the air and hit the fruit across the kitchen with a broom. It smacked into the opposite wall, spraying sweet juice and chunks of apple all over the room. "Be gone, foul creature!" Alina had laughed so hard she cried, and Apple Bash had become a fall tradition.

"Apple Bash!" Alina said excitedly "Yury, you always bring me the best news." The boy beamed up at her, and Alina couldn't help but laugh at the gaps where he had already begun to loose teeth. "Yury, I have a very important job for you. Are you ready for it?" The boy nodded earnestly, his face suddenly a mask of solemnity. Alina made of show of looking around the room, as if checking for intruders. Then she leaned it very close and whispered in his ear, "Run and tell the others."

The boy took off running down the halls, Alina trailing behind him. Together, they went around to every classroom door, every dormitory, banging on the walls and singing out "Apple Bash! Apple Bash!"

The children fled to the meadow. The teachers followed, but remained at the edges of the field, somewhat apprehensive, undoubtedly judgmental. Alina didn't care, she ran past them, her white hair flying out behind her. Mal stood in the center of the field- a broom swung over his shoulder and a basket of apples waiting at his feet.

"Took you long enough!" He called to Alina. She lifted her hands as if to say what can you do? Mal laughed.

"Okay, urchins! You know the rules! Hit the apple with the broom, you only get a point if the pieces hit me!" Mal twirled the broom in his hands, tapping his feet as if he were doing a little dance. "Ten points if they hit Sofya!"

Alina laughed. "You are rotten!" She picked up an armful of leaves and tossed them in his direction. They scattered in the wind, swirling through the meadow. Their laughter thundered through the air, restrained by nothing.

The game was messy, as it always was. The children lined up to take a chance with the broom, or scattered throughout the field, ready to catch flying chunks of apple. Mal's pitches slowly became more elaborate and less accurate, but the children didn't care. They howled with laughter as apples exploded into pieces overhead. Alina's hair was plastered to her face with sweet, sticky juice, and her dress was already covered in grass stains. At this moment, she couldn't remember ever missing the little palace.

"You can't, I already told you!" The child's voice rang out. Alina looked over to where one of the older children was holding the broom over his head, keeping a younger girl from getting it. "You're too little!"

"I am not!" The girl- Eva- protested. Her face was a mask of fury and determination, but the top of her head only reached the boy's chest.

"You are. You'll never hit it. We shouldn't waste the apples like that!"

"I can hit it." Eva's voice was deadly calm. She looked as if everything inside her was about to combust. Alina hadn't known such anger was possible.

She rushed over, snatching the broom out of the boy's hand. "Anton, don't say things like that. Apple Bash is for everyone." She knelt to offer the broom to the little girl. "Of course Eva can have a turn."

But Eva didn't take the broom. She didn't do anything. She continued to glare at Anton, her tiny fists clenched tightly at her sides. Her scowl was enough to quiet the rest of the group.

"He said I'm too small." The girl said, "But I'm not. I could do it, if I wanted."

"I know you can", Alina said gently. "Would you like to have a go?"

"I could, you know. I could hit it." Alina nodded once more.

Behind her, the boy snorted. "Please," he said arrogantly. "You're no higher than my knee caps. You'd be lucky if that apple caught you in the face."

Eva lunged for him. Even though she was a tiny creature, the force of her leap was enough to send both her and Anton careening into the grass. They rolled through the leaves, throwing punches and kicks, screaming at each other. Alina leapt after them, tearing the children apart. She pushed them away from each other, holding each of them by a shoulder. "Stop!" She yelled at them.

Eva was panting, her face still a mask of fury. "Eva," Alina said softly. "It's okay." That was when she noticed the little girl's hands.

They were covered in black. It looked almost like paint, but Alina couldn't imagine where Eva could have gotten ahold of black paint. "Eva, open your hand." She said carefully.

The girl gulped and then slowly uncurled her fist, finger by finger. Black vapors curled off the palm of her hand in delicate tendrils, mixing in with the breeze. They looked almost like smoke, but Alina knew better. No smoke could be so delicate, so dark. It had been years, but Alina still remembered the way the darkness fell from his fingertips. She still remembered what it could call down. The wind whispered Aleksander in her ear.

Alina realized she was not breathing. Shakily, she took a breath. "Mal," she called, realizing her mistake too late. Mal hadn't used that name in years. Not in front of anyone besides Alina. "Leo." He jogged over, still dripping in apple juice. He looked at Eva's hand and dropped the apple he was holding. Everything in the meadow was still.

"Saints." Mal breathed. "It's happening again."